(no subject)

finally feel like i'm really breathing again. he's here, and he's calmed, and i've gotten to fall apart on him as well. bad week, with good bits.

i'm feeling more and more bound about what i can and can't talk about in here, which is ludicrous, because really, if my audience thinks that the strength of my feelings for light makes me weak, or dismissable, or wrong, then i really don't imagine that i'm going to want to care about their opinion one way or the other, and limiting myself to keep from appearing as x or y to someone's eyes seems as backwards. i put what i am here, that's the point of it. i may curb my tongue not to offend, but that is entirely different than curbing my tongue not to appear to be completely myself. because that's what it's beginning to feel like.

thai food and sex and insanely cute cats and caving and buying the thessaly comics (okay, he bought them for me) and it's half that i can touch him now and know he's okay, that the strain that is in his voice will lessen rather than continue to mount now, and half that i need him here.

i try to explain to junkyard that i want to listen, that isn't not obligation, or something he's taking from me, and i'm never quite sure why when i want to be at my most convincing, all my words fly from me and i'm left with little more than stuttering uh-s.

full band nields tonight.

i keep winning.

(no subject)

finally feel like i'm really breathing again. he's here, and he's calmed, and i've gotten to fall apart on him as well. bad week, with good bits.

i'm feeling more and more bound about what i can and can't talk about in here, which is ludicrous, because really, if my audience thinks that the strength of my feelings for light makes me weak, or dismissable, or wrong, then i really don't imagine that i'm going to want to care about their opinion one way or the other, and limiting myself to keep from appearing as x or y to someone's eyes seems as backwards. i put what i am here, that's the point of it. i may curb my tongue not to offend, but that is entirely different than curbing my tongue not to appear to be completely myself. because that's what it's beginning to feel like.

thai food and sex and insanely cute cats and caving and buying the thessaly comics (okay, he bought them for me) and it's half that i can touch him now and know he's okay, that the strain that is in his voice will lessen rather than continue to mount now, and half that i need him here.

i try to explain to junkyard that i want to listen, that isn't not obligation, or something he's taking from me, and i'm never quite sure why when i want to be at my most convincing, all my words fly from me and i'm left with little more than stuttering uh-s.

full band nields tonight.

i keep winning.

"i choose you"

cute show, even if i wanted to go punch the soundguy for subpar mixing skills.

and light says i should tell all my friends who are feeling fat to come over so we can tell them they're not. and all i have to do is snake a hand under his shirt and touch the small of his back and everything settles down out of the patterns that it stirs itself up into.

my reactions are all out of phase, and i can't even tell how i feel about the different stages of divorce, i'm not expecting anything to change as a result of it, but i'm not sure that that's a valid statement, because if it has that much effect on him, that effects me, even if i don't know or understand what the story actually is.

almost silly high score on what was supposed to be a veryvery hard vocab test. and This Town sometimes makes me wonder if i only spread my wings to fly into a picture window.

and he buys me books because i won't let him buy me a skirt i really want, and i use stupid reasons to dissuade him, and then i feel like an ass, because i did want it and i won't purchase it for myself.

"i choose you"

cute show, even if i wanted to go punch the soundguy for subpar mixing skills.

and light says i should tell all my friends who are feeling fat to come over so we can tell them they're not. and all i have to do is snake a hand under his shirt and touch the small of his back and everything settles down out of the patterns that it stirs itself up into.

my reactions are all out of phase, and i can't even tell how i feel about the different stages of divorce, i'm not expecting anything to change as a result of it, but i'm not sure that that's a valid statement, because if it has that much effect on him, that effects me, even if i don't know or understand what the story actually is.

almost silly high score on what was supposed to be a veryvery hard vocab test. and This Town sometimes makes me wonder if i only spread my wings to fly into a picture window.

and he buys me books because i won't let him buy me a skirt i really want, and i use stupid reasons to dissuade him, and then i feel like an ass, because i did want it and i won't purchase it for myself.