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Apr. 13th, 2008 @ 03:24 am And what of your heart?
Current Mood: awake
 

I left my heart buried deep inside; safely covered from prying hands and minds.  I was not a stranger to embarrassment and flourish.   Although, I became quite good with it by falsifying my existence by being something (and the reason I say something not someone, is because something is plural, and I stole from a lot of peoples personalities) I wasn’t.
  In fact, I had a firm discontent with any person’s ability to see more of me  'than the average bear' (Yogi).  

But I said it; last night.  Those three little words.  
How IS it 
     That those can be coaxed out of me?  
Persuasion's of the utmost sort.  It included scoffing, loathing, and a degree of us being insationable of each other.      We were each others 'off' limits' person.   I knew him through my boyfriend, and his grilfriend whom I knew better at school than him.  After a few years away from the confomity hell whole we shall call school, I came back from college with a budding new view of life and a willingness to meet peple I had been apposed to before.Each dating another and knowing each other through that person's date, found us in ones company quit often after a rocky start being skeptical of each other. 
    And with his feistiness of spirit and my inability to back down to him, on my 'viewed important' stuff , that soon turned us to slowly prepare for the double split-up of double year relationships.    I teasingly- but seriously- busted his balls over dinner and conversations with both my boyfriend and his girlfriend sitting by as witness to our over envolvement.  We were too absorbed in each others' views to allow our signifcant other any time to interject.  And yet, under fire, he sat back and smiled.  And raised his cocky-ass chin lifting smile and eyebrow and confidently lean back in his chain, constantly battling me for more intellectual stimulation.  


He was the first person I told about breaking up with.
My boy-toy was mad, and I didn’t even care.   -If I really care for someone; It eats me up inside.


And then one day... during Christmas break, I showed up.  And he says "I expected you a season sooner"
  With a smile on my face and babbling some excuse, I entered his domain.
 
Now Josh is the total bachelor.  No couch; he has his chair. Fresh supply of drinks and the sweetest stereo system I’ve seen a guy pay for on his own.  HE was hot.  He was any girls pick, He’d tell you so himself.  And even though I thought of him as someone who was off limits, due to high school recommendation,  I was shocking giddy driving over to his house.  I even took extra care to look extremely plain.  You know- The jeans and a white t-shirt.  It worked or something did because by the end of the night we found out what would happen if both of our restraints were lifted.
The odd thing is  I don’t know how it changed.  That is to say, Although I do remember that one look that said come hither, this whole time... I like him more.  So much more than I gave him, or myself and my feelings credit for.     But it was all in a look.  Just one look; once.  After a full four months of not seeing each other, he still caught the sparkle in my eye.  

The overall story ends here, for tonight... but below, is other thoughts I’ve had.


Apparently it’s his father I have to impress upon greeting.  And yet ,first impressions are either absolutely agreeable or wretched upon disbelief, and usually portray how you and that person will meet and socialize with each other on appearances afterwards.  Only, the times thereafter are usually slight muted with overt cynisism.  Oddly enough, I was more worried about me meeting his little brother, Ryan, who’s only 8-or so.   Reflecting back, I would want him to think me a good mom, because I hope he would already think of me as a good mate.  
          Yet- guys don’t really think about this stuff.  It’s more implied.

Whereas if I met his dad, I could be as charming as I can be, and not be comforted in the idea that anyone can find faults in others.  This, although more terrifying than an eight year old, can be explained by his own bad behavior.  I know I am well spoken.  I know I present myself in a pristine, precise, and pleasant fashion.  I only hope that he will do the same.  And I only hope I don’t give him a provoked reason to disagree with me.  
   Although I have no problem disagreeing with someone and still remaining their friend; some people find it hard to separate themselves in an argument from an overall friendship.      I don’t think I should be aborted in a relationship because ones dad doesn’t personally agree with my view on politics or issues like pro-choice. 

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