perhaps i'm frazzled because either something is over or something has just begun. both are fine...just FINE...but maybe not. after all the magic, he is just a man. after psyching myself out by looking at his pictures, he is just a man (in my opinion one of the most extraordinary men on the fucking planet), but JUST a man. i cannot blame him for not wanting a girlfriend. i can't blame him for being fucking gorgeous or sexy or good with his words.
this is what i get for tangling with a poet.
can i just tell him:
i regret this a little bit. i wanted to be special. i wanted to be above the others and not among the droves of women who try and get in your pants. i have a crush on you. i want dibs (super dibs over your mouth and your heart and your orange juice). is it too late now? wanna just be friends? let's have some juice.
what i've learned:
never to settle. that i'm perhaps more badass that i thought i was. i've learned what it feels like to want to drop everything for somebody. i've learned that i've never felt that before. i like it. plus freedom. i can do this for a while. i will keep my crush on my poet because i have nothing to lose.
stop thinking. just be. all this imagination right now will get you nowhere because what actually happened gets tacked on to "the best shit ever in my life" list. hahahah.
