Posts tagged writing

I want to tell him that
• I like him
• I like everything about him
• his laugh is beautiful
• he makes me smile
• he has great taste in music
• I miss him everyday
• I wish he lived closer
• if he knows how much he means to me
• I like him
• he gives me butterflies
• I stay up thinking about him
• he’s so rad
• I love getting his random texts
• I’m glad he’s in my life
• I like him
• I love it when he writes about me
• I love his hugs
• I love his kisses
• I wish he were here now
• I like him
• I like him
• I like him
• I like him

But how?

And then he kissed me the other night. I fully expected him too. I wasn’t caught off guard, quite the contrary. I readied myself the entire night.

“I want to live here, love here, and die here.”

It was terribly sweet, his kiss I mean. So was he when he held my hand. I could sense his nervousness, much like animals can sense fear. It only drew me closer to him. I wanted to hold him, to caress him, and tell him I wanted him just as much as he said he wanted me. But I didn’t. Because that’s not what girls are suppose to do. Right? I coyly kept my distance, discreetly kept my staring to a minimum, and hid my longing for his touch.

“I think that possibly, maybe I’m falling for you.”

It was the end of the night when he finally, miraculously found his courage pool. Without words, he reached over and intertwined his fingers in mine. I looked over. His eyes were on the road, but his smile said it all. And it felt natural. The night sky, the gentle, warm air blowing, his thumb tracing light circles on my skin. Him, just him. He stopped just outside my apartment. I knew he would kiss me, I had that gut feeling. I mean, he wouldn’t have driven all the way to just leave without kissing me. Right?

“Kiss me beneath the milky twilight.”

I don’t really remember what all was exchanged before or after. All I remember is him leaning in and me doing the same. My stomach dropped and my breathing stopped. To be honest, I had been looking forward to it all night. He leaned over and pressed his soft lips against mine. I felt his lips and his warm skin and his facial hair on my face. That was all I needed to know that this was right. I felt him sigh in those five seconds that our lips were one. Perhaps a sigh of relief? A sigh of happiness? Regardless, it was filled with tenderness and sweetness and words that I cannot fathom.

“You were dancing in my mind, singing love songs. It was parallel love. You bring me to life, and sing me to sleep.”

I was on break and sitting at a table not being used. I usually read on breaks, but last night I stuffed my book under my pillow and forgot it in the morning when I left. I sat there looking at people. I have to admit that I’m an voracious people watcher. I like to see people as they are, whether it be by themselves or with their family or friends. I don’t usually people watch at work, because watching people eat is a little odd (even for me) and sometimes it gets disgusting. I feel as though when you are talking to someone you don’t necessarily know that well, they are presenting someone they want you to think they are. Does that even make any sense? And I know everyone is out to make a great first impression, but I’d rather get to know a person for who they really are than someone they pretend to be. Then later be surprised to realize your new friend is nothing like you thought they were? No thanks, color me not interested. 

So I was looking around for people to watch (that sounds a little creepy when I put it that way) when I noticed a couple walk in. They’re a young, attractive couple. Attractive enough to star in an overly cheesy, quirky romantic comedy that makes you cry at the end. They walk in and look around, taking in the ambiance I assume and I’m betting it was their first time in the diner because I’ve never seen them there. They’re holding hands and he guides her to a table where he pulls out a chair for her to take a seat. All the while she is smiling ear to ear. When it came time to order the waitress asked them the usual, what they want to drink, eat, etc, and he motioned to the girl so she could order first. Then I heard him say, “That sound good. I’ll have the same.” The menus were taken away and they were left to themselves. At first they sat talking about who knows what, then he reached over and held her hands. It was all too romantic and perfect. She’d avert her eyes and bite her lip and laugh quietly at what he was telling her. He never once took his eyes off of her. The gaze was true, in a way that I can’t find the perfect word to describe it.  Never have I seen a couple this in love in real life. I’ve only read about it or seen in acted in films. They were truly immaculate. 

I’m not the touchy-feely type, but what girl doesn’t want to have that? 

At one point she dropped one of her utensils and he quickly got up and retrieved her a new, clean one from the front counter. When they were done with their meal, he paid for it and they left hand in hand. He didn’t hold her in a possessive way, a way that I’ve unfortunately seen before, but rather in a proud way. Like he was proud that she had chosen him, that he was proud to say that he was hers. When they were about to exit, he was in front and for a second I thought he was going to walk though first, which would’ve completely shattered the illusion of perfection, but I was wrong. He swung the door open and stepped aside so that she could walk though then he walked out behind her. 

What I saw today is sadly something that is not too commonly seen in this day and age. People that are truly happy in life and are so in love with each other that everything around them tends to disappear and nothing exists but them and the love they have for each other. I admit I was jealous. Jealous that they had something beautiful, something I wish I had: genuine happiness and true romance.

There were the type of couple that people wish they were. I hope they never see the day where they are not as in love with each other as they were today. I hope they never suffer heartbreak. I hope they stay together and make each other happy until the day they are both old and grey. 

Camp NaNoWriMo, that is.

I will be participating in August and I could not be more excited! I never attended camp as a kid, and I’m too old to go now, so what better way to say that I’ve attended a camp then with this online idyllic writers retreat?

This will be my first NaNo experience. It’s a little daunting, but I think I’ll do fine. I opted out of doing the June camp because it gave me no time to plan what I would write about. By August I’ll at least have my plot, outlines and everything else I need so thing will go smoothly. August won’t be too busy for me as June will be.

I also have a pretty clear idea of what I want this novel to be. This is exciting!