mainsqueeze's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Junk Food What's funny is that if you had asked me at any other point in my life if I was a romantic, the answer would have been an immediate and emphatic yes. Yes, yes, yes. Today-- the past several months or even the last two years, if we're being completely honest-- I feel decidedly unromantic. There is not JUST a lack of romance but ANTI-romance these days. I'm not entirely sure what happened along the way to turn me into such a hardened cynic. Maybe twenty years in this city has finally caught up to me, twenty years in this glittering city. Twenty years of strip club billboards. Twenty years of bright lights and slot machine sirens. Ten years of crash diets and eating disorders. Ten years of shallow and short-lived friendships. Five years of fifty hour work weeks, five years of "Are my shoes shiny enough?" and five years of fake smiles and feigned interest. Guess that kind of kills the romance in a girl. I am currently infatuated with a near stranger, which is my standard M.O; I will say I'm in love for weeks or months and it will hurt like the real thing and then it vanishes. Phantom love, love hypochondria. This stranger, his name is traced on my bathroom mirror , I stood in the shower steam and wrote his name with my fingertip and that one magical syllable was on my lips and all over my body. See? This kind of I-love-you-but-not-really is not romance; It is psychotic and painful and dangerous and I am fully aware of this but I guess fake love feels better than no love at all. I can't seem to find the person I want, so I build my own. He is kind and friendly and funny, he is a whirlwind, he is scarred but still soft, independent but not distant, he creates, he shares but has beautiful secrets, there is a physical heat, he sets me on fire with his skin and his eyes and his mind and his mouth. I took that moment back on Halloween and built it into this, made it into something strange and wonderful. Yes, everyone I have loved has been imaginary, but this boy, this one, right now, I can't stop thinking about how I swear I could feel the warmth of his body through my clothes and his, through the space between us, I could feel that it would shake the fucking earth to feel his bare skin. And it stil isn't the real romance I want but I'd do anything he asked if I could have that. 7:23 p.m. - 2009-12-21 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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