mainsqueeze's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Happy, Stupid Happy Being in love is weird. And I'm not trying to imply that my brand of love is unique or different from anybody else's, it's just... weird. I do the infatuation thing a lot. I'm an effing pro when it comes to hardcore crushing, the obsessive, painful kind, but I don't have much experience when it comes to LOVElove, you know? I was going to write this poetic, rambling entry in which I talked about Matt's eyes and his hands and his smile but when I tried, it just seemed trite and dramatic, and that isn't the way I feel right now. I'm beyond the poetry, which sounds bad, but isn't. Matt isn't a crush anymore. He isn't some far off, impossible object of desire-- he is sleeping in the next room, and he leaves his dirty socks in a pile next to his desk, and he polished off an entire box of Cheez-Its in ten minutes earlier tonight, and I love him. I can't write flowery descriptions of how beautiful he is any more than I could write about the shining glory of my Mother or my legs or my right hand. He is part of my life now, and I would be lost without him. I think I was accidentally poetic just then but this quiet, peaceful love thing is good. Much better than the turbulent kind I've experienced in the past. I think that the fact that we have just recently had our first real fight has something to do with it-- because we made it out okay, you know? He didn't bail, and I didn't bail, and we raised our voices and swore and we made it out okay. So. Ahem. 1:01 a.m. - 2008-02-08 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||