There's This Girl
I'm going to tell you all about her over here because this is the only place that isn't seen by anyone who goes to my college. (Why, oh why did I add K on tumblr? I love her but my last haven of secrecy is gone- all anyone has to do to find my LJ is use my twitter handle. God, I am an idiot.)
Here goes nothing.
Last week she cut her hair. It really shouldn't matter like it does but, you see, I'd just gotten to the point where I could safely look at her and not want to avert my gaze for fear of being caught looking. I was on the verge of that 'just friends' feeling. Somehow, this haircut changes all of that- or maybe I never wanted my feeling to change to begin with? It isn't as if I want them to go away entirely because they feel absolutely beautiful, if a little melancholy.
(Let it be known that she knows. Oh, how she knows, even though she may have forgotten or brushed it aside. She claimed not to like long distance relationships but she's recently acquired a boyfriend who lives in Canada. I don't mind the boyfriend- they're happy together and it's grossly cute. I mind being lied to. Holy fuck, if you learn nothing else about me, learn this and remember it: never lie to me. It is wrong. I will not trust her now thanks to that.)
Back to the hair.
It's short in back now with barely-bangs and with a little off of the sides it could be a fauxhawk with leftovers of last month's bleach making it reddish at the tips. I don't know how to say it with proper words, but that does things to me. It doesn't help that she's got pseudo-military posture (thank you, NJROTC, thank you so very much) and gives really good hugs. All of this setback because of her bloody hair.
I really want to touch her hair. Run my hands through it, maybe pull without hurting- just to see what kind of reaction I'd get. I want to hold her hand because she radiates heat, okay? She's a human space heater and it's as wonderful as it is odd. I want to do these things without feeling uncomfortable about with. Without her knowing just how much it makes me think (which is to the point when my brain shorts out) when I spend too much time looking at her. Sometimes I wonder if she can see my eyes dilate because I'm pretty sure I can feel it. Then, if she does pay that much attention, is she watching because it is genuinely interesting to her or because it's just a fun game to watch me squirm like some pinned insect?
This is a little ridiculous. I waste these feelings on people who don't appreciate them.
Here goes nothing.
Last week she cut her hair. It really shouldn't matter like it does but, you see, I'd just gotten to the point where I could safely look at her and not want to avert my gaze for fear of being caught looking. I was on the verge of that 'just friends' feeling. Somehow, this haircut changes all of that- or maybe I never wanted my feeling to change to begin with? It isn't as if I want them to go away entirely because they feel absolutely beautiful, if a little melancholy.
(Let it be known that she knows. Oh, how she knows, even though she may have forgotten or brushed it aside. She claimed not to like long distance relationships but she's recently acquired a boyfriend who lives in Canada. I don't mind the boyfriend- they're happy together and it's grossly cute. I mind being lied to. Holy fuck, if you learn nothing else about me, learn this and remember it: never lie to me. It is wrong. I will not trust her now thanks to that.)
Back to the hair.
It's short in back now with barely-bangs and with a little off of the sides it could be a fauxhawk with leftovers of last month's bleach making it reddish at the tips. I don't know how to say it with proper words, but that does things to me. It doesn't help that she's got pseudo-military posture (thank you, NJROTC, thank you so very much) and gives really good hugs. All of this setback because of her bloody hair.
I really want to touch her hair. Run my hands through it, maybe pull without hurting- just to see what kind of reaction I'd get. I want to hold her hand because she radiates heat, okay? She's a human space heater and it's as wonderful as it is odd. I want to do these things without feeling uncomfortable about with. Without her knowing just how much it makes me think (which is to the point when my brain shorts out) when I spend too much time looking at her. Sometimes I wonder if she can see my eyes dilate because I'm pretty sure I can feel it. Then, if she does pay that much attention, is she watching because it is genuinely interesting to her or because it's just a fun game to watch me squirm like some pinned insect?
This is a little ridiculous. I waste these feelings on people who don't appreciate them.