Tears form behind my eyes but I do not cry...

His eyes were shut tightly, his palms began to sweat,his hair seemed tohim to be growing and his legs turned to mush. What was this? What was happening? Why couldn't he move, why could his heart not lift his chest, why was he holding his breath?

Then he realized she was still kissing him. He lowered his head, ashamed of his bodily reaction to her. Ashamed that he couldn't find the strength to kiss her back. Ashamed that he hadn't though of it first. Now, ashamed tha he made her think that he didn't want to be kissing her.

"Sorry Young I guess I just got carried away..." As usually, surely he was embarassed for her impulsions.

"No, no, don't apologize, I just realized that I wasn't breathing..." No apologies needed. No. No excuses. She really did mean to kiss him and he really did mean to enjoy it and maybe now he had ruined his chances.

"Oh, well are you okay now?" How did she do that? How did she always make him most important in her thoughts? How did she always think of him first in all things and herself second? How was she not too shy, nor too embarassed nor too tired of boys and the things they say to girls to always wonder if Young was alright? Was it Young or was it just in her nature? Or did she like Young so much because of her nature?

A split second and a million miles later he responded with an all to passive "Yea..."

Young, why can you never speak to her the way you plan or the way she needs?

Talk is cheap any how. He leaned in, took a deep breath, and kissed her more passionately than she ever thought him capable of.

And with great joy, he was finally understanding how to love her.

So what if I have a celebu-crush on Chris Meloni?

What I think is most entertaining is that I have a complete and wonderful blog all neatly typed and double space in MLA format in my brain that has mostly nothing to do with Chris Meloni. It just occurred to me when I set out to write my thoughts to you that I love Chris Meloni. I don't nkow why, but I am inclined to share that with you right now. Enjoy.

Funnier still? I could have posted nude and full frontal views of Mr. Meloni. But I won't. Because A) I respect you and B) We're not like that. Mr. Meloni and I have a faith based connection. I never tire of watching him defend innocent young girls on Law and order SVU (With his equally delightful co-star, Mariska Hargitay) He's more like the ideal man than a sex object. One more picture and then I will be more pointed I promise...

It doesn't stop me from wanting to...

I don't use real names here, you know that. But occasionally I want to do formal introductions. Blog readers, meet The Boy. Boy, meet a big bright world.

I don't typically galavant around town until 3 in the morning, but when I do it's always worth the bags under my eyes and the coffee the next morning.

I haven't kissed or been kissed in a while, but I'm not going to compain if you want to knock me a wet one on the cheek every now and again.

I don't read books out of my genre of classical literature very frequently, but I trust your judgement.

I don't usually let young men drive me around towns I don't know when it is late and dark, but so far you've pleased me exceedingly doing so.

I don't usually speak in literal terms about my life, but just this once, Young can't say it as well as I can.

I usually like the rough, aggressive, fast paced insane things in life, but your assured, quiet, respectful musings have made me feel safe, warm, and invited. Amazingly.

Thank you, Boy. Thank you, Life. Thank you, Sweet Freedom.

Redemption

"I took it off, Young"

Just like that, eh? He thought.

But what he said was nothing. He should have told her he was proud of her. He should have congratulated her for her bravery and determination. But now she was free. Before, when she was married and scared and unhappy, she needed him. But now that she was strong and free and happy, would she leave him? Would she find someone to be free and loud and interesting with her? Would she remove her light from him and leave him to wither?

"Just like that?" A slow response with a heavy heart.

"Yes. Just like that I remembered who I was and where I am and that I'm not a slave and that Jesus bought my freedom from Hell, why shouldn't I be happy? And I took it off. And I feel... I feel again Young."

There she goes, he thought. There she goes, flitting away from me like a fairy on a midsummer night, there she goes like the sun behind a storm cloud, there she goes like a fish in a stream. Beautiful freedom, and so far away from him.

Then she leaned in and kissed him, soft and sweet. She kissed him more timidly than he ever thought her capable of.

And he put his arm around her and he was free with her.

With great joy, she was free.

Excuse me, do you hear that screaming child?

As if you didn't know, no one wants to wear your dirty underwear.

Man, this week has been pretty surreal. I have spent a full 11-15 days either in school or at work. When I am not engaged in those two activities I am typically to be found in my room, staring at a blank wall and disregarding all forms of life in and around myself. Just staring and musing and brooding over things that suck. And most the time, I don't even talk to myself in complete sentences. What's that about?

*** SOMETHING IMPORTANT IS ALWAYS DENOTED BY ***

"I have to get him out of my life, Young" She sucked on the end of the cigarette with an acute desire for something more beneficial. Without the means to create, she just destroyed her lungs and the burning end of her first fag in months.

"Well, do it then" He never really understood what she expected him to say, and he always felt like he kept her waiting too long to hear his unproductive response.

A glance, then a pause, then, a strange look seemed to creep outwardly on her face from the lower corner of her mouth, until her eyes changed before him.

Strange isn't really fair, he thought, for it has a negative meaning. Different? Queer? New? Yes, a new look. One he had never seen, atleast not when he saw her before him. It was a look that he imagined her to have a million times though. In dreams, he thought her eyes this blue and her cheek this flushed and her brow unknetted. Yes, But in dreams I can hear you name.

Elipses cover up a million and one unspoken words...

...

To prove that my last post was just farce, I will give you a new one. But I make no promises about content, originality, or literary worth.

DR playfully smiled at her and gave a quick wink, "That's what I like about you"

She didn't think she had ever trully blushed until then. She could feel her face getting beet red as he continued to look at her. His gaze wasn't piercing or seeking, it just lingered and made her want to kiss him softly and laugh and blush and do all those things a woman in love does.

All she was and all she said were always in contrary motion, pulling her to show and be two seperate things. She thought long about what had made him smile so sweetly and she concluded that it was what she said not who she was. It was what she meant, not how she was to him that made him feel such comfort with her.

What an extreme dissapointment. Becuase he of course made her want to be near to him and with him and loved by him and he only wanted a smile and a wink and a good laugh.

Geez Louise...

Thursday 13's

On Thursday the 13th...

How the heck did I miss that boat?

Thirteen reasons why I fully support under achievement.

1. When you do your best, you can still screw things up.

2. It's more fun when you have time to play.

3. Be cause i am not performing to my full potential, I feel no desire to define what "it" is.

4. Being less means EXPECTING less.

5. Trading in your values is harder than never having any to begin with.

6. I am more able to relate with working class people. Such as the ones a Graul's Gourmet food stores the refused to remake a sandwich today.

7. Lowering peoples expectations means you never have to say you're sorry.

8. When you do well, people continually expect the best. That wears thin after a while.

9. I would have to own a watch to achieve more and they don't really go with this outfit or any outfit I own as a matter of fact.

10. If I consistently under acheive, when I do well, people will admire my hard work and dedication.

11. Being more lame than I'd like means I don't have to finish this list. And I can still feel good about it because I did my best...

On this the day of your exes birth...

A short note, written, or what should have been written a long time ago, or yesterday, to DR, or someone very much like him:

Dear DR:

It has been a pleasure being associated with you these short months. I truly am fascinated by you and how well you carry yourself. You are a testament to decency and modern Christianity. Thank you for this experience. I hope that we can have future meetings, atleast of the minds, for yours is one highly regarded to me.

Thank you


A short, or rather long response that was never written, but the pain of omission that haunted DR acutely all the days afterwords:

My Darling:

Your Salvation has meant the most to me all of this time. I am flattered and in awe of what God is truly capable of doing in and because of you daily. You have come so far in your faith and through such adversity you have flowered and already begun to show fruit. I thank you for your kindness in noticing God's most humble servant, but your admiration, I feel, is more than I could ever accept. I merely spoke truth to you. A truth tinged with my passion for Christ and for you.

I love you and reccommend you in every prayer to my God. I hope that, one day, we will meet in more than just thought. My dear, all shall be clear in time, but know this: You will walk not a step without my careful prayer and God's watchful eye. And God willing, I will follow you and nurture you in Christ all your life.

Until the right time:
Yours and Yours truly,
DR, or someone like him

1st time 1st person from your Young.

"I just can't believe there will be someone out there lying about me for the rest of my natural life."

C'mon, don't be so dramatic, he might forget all about you." Wow, could I say anything more horrible?

She smiled at me with a wink and let out a soft laugh," You're right Young, as usual" her long pauses always worried me, but she redeemed me and my foolishness, "He might forget all about me and that would be a salvation of sorts."

I looked to the sky, blinded by the sunlight. Which, ironically, was hidden behind a looming white snow cloud. She shivered and leaned against me. I shouldn't have hesitated in wrapping my arms about her and drawing her tight to me. But such is my manner.

"Let's go inside." And with a whisper she was gone. Always gone with the wind.

Some day I will figure out how to love her.

67% of the time, when I wake up late, I feel like a failure.

Some stats on yours truly:


I am 250% more likely to hate you without ever learning your name if you drive without your lights on in a rain storm

37% of me thinks that one day, I will in fact meet Young John.

1 out of every 13 times, I find American shows entertaining (This statistic excludes the Law and Order Series.)

Recent statistics show that my ex told about 2,345 lies per quarter.

In an unbiased poll, I found that 13% of Americans might actually enjoy seeing pictures of my new vegetable garden.

8 out of 10 times that you may see me in a bar drinking, you can be assured that i would be 89% more satisfied at home reading or writing or taking a bath or cleaning Stacey's cage.

98.5% of my friends can't wait until I am divorced. The other 1.5% were unavailable for this poll.

Finding time to write a novel is 7th on my list of things to do. 9 Ran.

85% of people will have no idea what the above statement meant, only 11% will think that it was amusing.

2.3. The number of rings on the hood of my car from my coffee cups.

I drink 2.7 Triple Grande Caffe Mochas add Hazelnut add caramel a week.

I drink 4.5 Triple Grande Caffe Mochas add Almond add caramel a week.

I drink 1.3 "other" Caffe Mochas a week.

My phone rings 13.5 times a week, 65% of those times on tuesday and thursday mornings when Joe and I are both in class.

I think it is a 1 in 179 chance that other people will figure out who DR might be.

When I think of Mr. Future millionaire 73% of me wants to puke.

Size 10. My husbands wedding ring.

Size 10. My big feet.

48,598.53. How much money I plan to rake in a year after my schooling.

15,214.67. How much my schooling will cost.

56,214.28. How much my schooling will cost after 4 years of quarterly intrest at about 13%.

6 out of 10 pople think this blog is rubbish.

I hope the other 4 enjoyed it.

Thirteen things you never needed to know about me

My Thursday thirteen, which one day I shall rename my Friday thirteen only that is not catchy in the least. Besides I would probably end up writing it on Saturdays if I made that change.

Thirteen Reasons why I can't wait for my divorce to be finalized:

1. But I want you to understand that the head of every man is Christ, the head of a woman is her husband, and the head of Christ is God. Thank you, Paul. 1 Corinthians 11:3

2. My phone bill needs a rest.

3. Cute boys are often turned off by the fact that I am still married. Creepier is when they are turned on.

4. I am sick of worrying about my taxes, even though I paid a rediculously high single rate.

5. There are more important things to do at four in the morning than waking up with this kind of anxiety.

6. Baby Stacey craves stability.

7. Divorce parties are so fetch.

8. ANY party would be better than my wedding day/ evening.

9. I don't have to be related by proxy to Roald Dahl anymore.

10. I deserve a fresh start Damn it.

11. Fraud isn't cool, dude.

12. I want to have something better to write about because i can feel you all getting bored with me.

13. I am sick of getting the "Oh my god, you're married?" response from people.