capturing moods.

Just goes to show you. I went away after my last post for a few hours, just spending time with my family, being the little organizer, reading away, and yet in the back of my mind the rules where there.

The rules and the point of them was to prevent what I fear the most.

Ruling out the dorks just because I could get attached to them. Ha. The problem with rules is that they're rules and who wants to be determine by them for the rest of their lives?

I had a dream, two nights ago. I was in a warm bed, being held by strong arms, intertwine so comfortably, breathing in his smell. It was my stupid ex and he was murmuring to me that he was still sleepy bunny. calling me bunny. I woke up and thought it was real for a splint second when I felt how enveloped I was, how my body just seemed to be held tight. I was in a spoon cocoon that I built out of those massive blankets I use for the winter. The heavy ones that they make in Mexico with the huge flowers on them. I was under two of them and my coverlet. The pillow leaning against my back . Ofcourse I would dream about being held by him because it's the happiest I was ever because I thought he loved me.

It's been a year and I still dream of him. How fuck up is that? I fear that that I will become my cousin. That the only love she had, she threw away and I let mine go. I know I could have had fuckface back. I could have brought him back to me, with enough pleading and grabbing his hair, he would be with me. But he would hate me and I will hate him and any trust gone.

Is this why I dream of Christopher so badly? Because I see him incapable of hurting me? Is this who I will be? A spinster who's greatest love left her bitter before she turned 25.

I'm bitter. jaded. People label me as too happy, ask me if I'm ever sad. They don't know about my blog. They don't know how sometimes I wake up with a bad taste in my mouth. How some songs I still can't sing because they hold too many memories, even though I miss them because they're by my favorite band/singer.

I still have trouble painting my nails. Just because it was a treat for him, how he would delight in my hands, in the color of my nails. How I would call him and ask him, what color bunny? what color? and damn me if he wasn't excited by the time he came to pick me up, asking to see my short stubby little nail bitten hands before even a kiss on the mouth, rather kissing my hand and calling me his amore.

I'm afraid of that. And yet it's what I want.

So much of myself and him went into our relationship. We forgot to be ourselves and in a way it was beautiful. Unhealthy for damn sure, no space between us, but it held an intensity that both us brought along to burn with no limits. Within 3 years, we knew everything about each other, he even had my cycles better calculated than I did. He knew my body and I knew his. What I didn't count on was his mind to burn through me and away. There was no reason but I should have known, with his background, with his present, and no hope for a future, all he had was a thrilling present as much as an adventure as he could make it. Should have known as his first anything and everything that he was going to want others. I allowed him to play, but to always let me know and he still did it behind my back. Had to say goodbye because of that but the truth is he dumped me. He left me. And as the lover spurned, I was left dying, just dying for him to come back. I still don't trust myself like I did before. I still know that if he wanted to come back, I would let him. I'm too weak and it makes me sick. makes me seek out power in any form I can get. Letting me sleep through guys without any attachement because to get attached was to be the ultimate weakling. I'm afraid I will never be able to put him behind me. It's a been a year and why am I still dreaming of him?

I should just call it all quits. The game. everything. Just become a nun, funny, just like in high school. Me and my books and that was fine for me. Only this time I have memories and memories of the guys who wanted to be with me and I said no.

And then this stupid crush on #9's friend. forget about it. I'm going back to my writing and my books. And the best I can hope for is a dream where he isn't in it.