Will he hold your tiny face in your hands?

I keep trying to write and it's not coming out.

I want to write about him.

Want to be able to express what I feel in words.

And I can't.

And I know why I can't.

It's because I can't let go.

I don't want to let go.

I don't want to say goodbye.

Not yet. And I really don't have to. But I know. I know what I should do. For my own damn good. But I don't care if it's for my own good or not. I just want. want want want. Want time to be kinder. Want to steal time. Want to really get to know him before I let go. I am not ready to let go and yet I have to be. C'est la vie and I can't do anything about it. BUT

To answer my title question, yes he did.

He held my face in his hands. Many, many times, countless times. Just such vibrant memories of it, of him doing it. And knowing that is all I'll have now.

Just memories, turning bittersweet in time as the pain kicks in.

It was crazy. Insanely different, fast, just wow. Took my breath away. I didn't realized how it could be.

But it just was. It was just being.

Being me. Being him. Being together.

And now we will just be. Be us. Be apart. Back to being not together. Back to him being just him. And I'll just be me. It'll be just me.

but like the song lyric echoes in my mind, "yeah you're better off for leaving. You're better off for leaving..."

It's my mantra. What I keep telling myself. That he is better off for leaving. Not because I want him to but he is. He'll be a better person without me, he'll be able to find that person meant just for him. I would have ruined it anyway. It's better this way.

And if it's not one song, it's another which haunts me. Acoustic version of it right now, I can't stand the angry original one right now.

"If I'm strong enough, I will give you up, and if I stay away, you'll find the girl who'll make you great. A girl who will make you great. A girl more like you."

Who won't be me.

"So why did you have to go and pick me when you knew we were different completely?"

It just all comes back full circle, doesn't it?

I need

to write about him. My lover. My summerboy. My... 2nd boyfriend. Soon to be ex boyfriend by mutual agreement.

It wasn't for long, not long at all but these past few weeks have felt like I could have been months with him. Such intensity that mixed with our passion and concentration of each other and our temporary serious relationships has me into a whirlwind. BUT

I can't write about this now. Not because it's not the time. I should be.

But because I don't have time for it >_>

BOO.

& I really need to write about him.

But if I do then I might miss you, babe.

unexpectedly found myself wanting to lose the game.

Guess he wants to play.

He wants to play our lovegame.

Don't think too much...

Just one thing.

Adonde?

Where is all this anger coming from?

I was pissed off. Again. Briefly today. I don't think anyone noticed but for ten minutes, all I wanted to do was break something beautiful. I wanted to mutilate and pound and just fuck the shit out of anything that was considered beautiful, including myself. I just got very angry during class & so I wrote.

I wrote in my book, and gave my anger to my main character, poor pitiful little fuckshit geek younger brother Jules with an asthma problem and pimples coming complete with thee yearning for a girl he could never have who will always be living in the shadow of his douchebag older brother who will never be more than a jerk. I gave it to him and read what I wrote and then laid back in my chair and thought...

I am writing a VERY violent book in terms of suburbia and urban settings. No swords. No shields. No epic battles. No royal treachery here. It's all about the losers and winners of high school and how certain choices just rippled through out your whole life. it's about the pummeling and hate between two brothers, even if one is not aware of it and how a little glass jar which holds your brand name coffee brand can become the object of a fight fantasy, a key to winning a fight.

& all of this macho things coming out of me, I think it is me. I've always been neutral in terms of being either girlish or boyish in personality, never super girly (& now only in terms of appearances because I will never squeal over the latest vogue magazine.) And yet all this coming out, it's just because I"m not denying it anymore. it's not I'm becoming a tomboy. it's because it is me. Since I was little, I would read these "male authors", never was into the babysitters club, was into survivor stories and fantasies. This having a motorcycle as my cell wallpaper, and reading palahniuk, bolano, it's just me. Coming to terms of all aspects of my personality. This anger, by taking it out via working out, This is how I deal with things, and fuck society for labeling it male or female. I'm not about to sit down and boohoo over a dish of ice cream. I am stronger than that.

& I still don't know why I've been so angry of late. It just occurs. I guess because I don't go easily into mood swings & control my temper that it is only alone that I let my feelings out. Either through writing it out or through exercising it out.

It's me. I get to know more about myself every day. I tend to look for those self actualizations which can make me into a happier person. & this is a self actualization. I do have male traits to my personality & I accept them. I just hope that one day my family will accept me for me.

My sexuality. My love of bikes.

I won't find out or risk it till I'm on my own.

Which I hope will be very soon. Because I think a girlfriend would be very sweet to have at this point because guys are just confusing me.

Everything except for their cock.

One day, I will come out. One day I will be me. & to hell with what everyone thinks.

But that day won't be today or until I can support myself. & this will be soon. Soon. I will be that person I dreamed of being and be honest about it.

I guess it all worked out

The reason I'm not blogging much these days is because happiness with little trivial complications that are nothing, has decided to visit me.

I am happy.

This is my secret blog that turn into my rant against what the fuck is up with my world & what the fuck am I doing? But the longer I don't blog, the longer my happiness has decided to stay. I only hope that everyone else feels the warmth of what life can be too.

& that this feeling stays, and this blog should turn into my nauseating happiness as I gush about books, movies, and all the good stuff that life has to offer like funnel cakes and inside jokes. Memories. Beautiful memories that make up our lives, that make up our daily happiness.

Now all that I want to do is go back to my writing, it beckons me, and I have answered its call. So I'm happy.

Just play it how it is.

If I just follow my own rules. I should be fine.

The more I talk to guys the more I'm reminded of the reasons why I should play and not become involved.

Seriously, married men. Like what the hell, you have your wife at home, and she's beautiful. You said I do to her, back it up! Idiots!

Older, much older divorce men. Yes, we know you went through a painful divorce. yes, you are single and available and are ready to play because your divorce left you scared. BUT, must you go after girls young enough to be your daughters? Seriously? You're how old? And you're looking for girls in what age? I know, I know, you don't want to discriminate in age but really, now you're just being perverted.I know they joke about me and going after youngsters, but I don't go for guys a decade younger than me at least. Perverts!

And then there are the "single" men. How the hell do you think you're kidding? And are you that dumb? Or do I play being the dumb blond too well? Do you really think I'm that stupid. *roll eyes*. It's obvious you have a girlfriend. If not here in the city, that you're attached to someone, but long distance or not, she's still your girlfriend. You're just losers for being scared of your own relationship. Either play the field right or have enough balls to break up with her before you get caught. Because you will get caught. the game will only come back to hunt you. Cowards!

Then there are actually single guys. Le sigh. I understand that at this point, you're all have been attached at one point with someone pretty serious. But just because you had bad experiences means that shouldn't try again. Grow some balls guys, there are plenty of single girls who would love to have you.

Me included eventually. As soon as I find that the hand that mine fits into. That and when I stop thinking of that guy I met through my hookup. That'll fade out, I hope.

Rules:

1.No playing with guys who are married/engaged/are boyfriends (attached)

2. No one older than 6 years or younger than 4.

3. No one shorter than me. No one of a smaller body frame (to an extent)

4. No latinos. Sorry, don't do my own race, I know them too well.

5. No one into drugs. (smokers okay. drinkers not so much.)

6. No fucktards. No creeps. If you give me the weirdo vibe, bye.

7. No one too good looking because they know how well they look and I don't need to feel that you're thinking you're having sympathy sex with me. Um-no. Also because you're so good looking, I know you're taking advantage of that and your numbers tend to run double digits. No thank you on the STD's either. Average guys are better anyway.

8. No dorks. Just because I tend to get attached to you. (case in point: hookup's best friend >_> goodlord why do I keep thinking of him?! -_- Boo. Just thumbs down. Is it bad that I'm hoping to bump into him when Spring semester starts? I've never blogged this much about a guy. Why him? he probably has a girlfriends. Dorks like him always do. And besides I played with his friend. -_-

The retracted rule that was formerly rule #9: No hooking up with friends of hook ups.

It gets weird fast. But only if your original hook up is a douchebag. I'm better playing this by ear and see how it develops because sometimes this opens up alot of guys :P But a must is keeping it to yourself unless you want drama by comparison. Sometimes it's nice to be known as easy and sometimes it's not.

Just see how it goes.

Have you no shame, unfaithful heart?

Why him? Is he another one of those bajillion crushes I had on campus this semester? How many guys, just how many did I check out and developed a physical crush for? And then not counting them, I also crushed on many of my classmates, girls and guys.

And then this week comes along. At one point or another I have been smitten, became fascinated with four guys, (guy)Number 9, guy in class, librarian, and now him. Am I just going to think about him and forget all about him tomorrow? Just anothe bypassing interest.

He's a bit different. I talked to him for awhile, we connected in that sort of connection you have once in awhile with a stranger. He spoke to me in Spanish at one point, completely took me by surprise. I like him better than Number 9 because he didn't have that edge that Number 9 does. The edge of a player, of a too selfish guy. Maybe because aside from classmates who treats me like a girl and not a lovegamer. Maybe I just like the idea of him.

But guys like him always have girls, pretty petite indie girls with braids in their hair and quirky music taste.


But I'm distracted and I'm thinking tomorrow or something Sunday if I'm still thinking about him I will resolved this. I will text Number 9 & either ask him whether friends are offlimits or ? at least his name.

Last day of the semester

I just came back from school.

I had a lovely time just doing nothing and having lunch with Mikko and Joey. Then talking in the SU while we randomly listen to snatches of music as we tested Lady Gaga's Heartbeats, with me checking out all the cute guys of this semester, with plenty of perverted jokes, and randomly singing Beatles songs. Just a perfect way to end the semester.

I only hope that I can make next semester will be even better :D

Nothing crazily extraordinary happened today

so why am I blogging again? especially since I have an essay due in t-minus 24 hours. I don't know, whatever. I got it.

I had a nice day, one of those days I wished I had more of. Not exciting but still pretty good. Had a scrumptious breakfast of a shrimp omelette with a side of plaintains and banana with hot chocolate, talk about mixing up a culture.

Got ready for school, felt pretty good about how I looked, went to school.
Saw two of my best buddies, talk, gossip, ate with one of them, Dana, walked the other, Mikko to his bus but not in that order. Went to the library, finish my presentation, gave my presentation (I taught the class, woot woot), established the start of a new friendship, her name is Christina and I am so looking forward to getting to know her.

I could feel her loneliness for friends. Just like I felt Brandon's long ago in high school, and maybe Mikko's too, which is why I walked by every morning, because the mexican clique was a clique but there were other places I could have gone so easily. But I still went to sit down next to the panda every single time.

When I saw Christina, working the desk, and was like Hi :) and started talking to her, and this is only my third time talking to her but I just knew that I had to do something. So I did. I gave her my number. My email, and she got this HUGE grin on her face. The type you get when your friend calls you up to meet you at school, and when you do, surprise they brought you homemade italian sausage, just for you. (Still want pumpkin pie though xD)

I don't think she makes many friends, or easily but I see no biggie in it. And guess what, rigth after I left to walk Dana to her appointment and headed back to the library to finish my presentation, I open my email and there was Christina, already emailing me. Saying hello, how are you, and whether I lived here (in state), and how were my finals, and yeah totally new friend there.

So I answered and started doing my presentation, finish it, went to class, taught class. Everyone is real encouraging in that class, I love it, the only thing I would change is him. He looked wonderful today. Wearing a dressy shirt, freshly shaven, just looking real spiffy, and I guess I look better than I thoguht I did. I kept catching him staring at me. BAD. BAD.BAD. Just NO. As much as I want to, N-O. he has a girlfriend, and their serious, and he talks about her all the damn time, and it's probably just the fact that's he's a reader, and that he's Italian, and that he's a writer, and the way he writes, I just want to. But I won't. And he reminds me of Christopher in a very male reader, dork manner, and NO. Maybe. No. How many times did I catch him looking at me? And every time, I pretended disinterest beyond academic wise. And I don't know why this is bothering me so damn much. I thoguht I put him out of my head because he's OFFLIMITS. I know that. It's not even physical attraction, it's mental. And I was nervous presenting, because of him. Sure Stephanie, be nervous around him, but not around any other guy who you can just fuck and leave within a day, withing an hour, withing less of knowing them. You can play the game real well, but love, forget it. And I have to forget him. I think i will after I'm done purging. He's a reader, I'm reader, he's a writer, I'm a writer, and it will never happen.

That! That is what's bothering me. >_> >_______________< Blah, hate stupid no-sense at all crushes. I'll forget. I have to.

it's just a stupid longing for that person just for me.


Yesterday I held hands with the guy I hookup with on campus. Our hands didn't fit. His too short and thick, mine too long and thin. Emotionally our hands won't fit either, anything more than a hookup/friend, and I know that after a few months, I will get tired of his bullshit and bolt. That and add the fact that before I met hookup guy I met his best friend who I talk to easily, too easily. I hope I'll bump into him on campus in the spring or that my hookup guy will text me to bullshit around so I can ask him if friends are off limits. Even if his friend is just another hookup, it's just some people you just have to try out (when single ONLY ofcourse!)

And that what brings me to another thought that nags at me. I was reading Glass by Ellen Hopkins (finished it) don't ask me why I'm reading and writing when I have an essay due like a huge academic essay with citations due on Friday -_- ugh whatever. I'll do what I want. I got it. But I was reading Glass when I came across:

I want to ask if he's been with other girls.
[Don't] Need to ask.
[No.]
I have to know. [No, you don't]

And when I was in the middle of hooking up, I started biting his neck. He told me now. it's alright. I back off, there's only two reasons why guys don't want hickeys.

1. They either are huge players and don't want their other game to see hickeys (Hookup guy is NOT a player. That I can read. he can play the game, but he's not the type to have a museum of lovers)

and 2. They have a girlfriend to go home to.

It's over. I hooked up.

Hello, let's meet, hello, let's play, you got yours? I got mine, allrighty bye.

I shouldn't care. But I do. I almost asked him right there and then, "do you have a girlfriend?" but I didn't. I don't want to know the answer. I might have hurt him because of what my ex did to me.

And when I read that today after having hookup yesterday with a guy who possibly has a girlfriend (more than willing to bet about it) waiting for him to go home for winter break. That question unnerves me. I want to ask [but I won't] because I really don't have to know. I don't want the guilt of knowing that once upon a time, I hooked up and he already had a girlfriend. Made that mistake already with a fake. liar. cheat. guy who gave me my first kiss years and years ago. He had a Long time girlfriend, they got married, they didn't have kids. they're now divorce. And I, me, I was the other woman. And she, I knew who she was but I believe him when he said it was over, but it wasn't and I dropped him and it only hurt me one day and I was done. And knew that he was nothing to cry over about and within 3 months of getting my first kiss, I started playing the game. No need for attachment. & I'm not attached to hook up guy (maybe just a bit his cutie friend who I like a bit too much) but BUT the suspicion of being the other woman, the guilt of it is there too.

And all I have echoing in my damn head is need to ask. {NO} Have to know [No, you don't] but like the song in the concert version.

But I should of have thought of that before we fucked! FUCK!

If he texts me, i promise that I will only make it right by asking about his friend (because I owe myself that, non-hookup or otherwise) and before I say yes to hooking up, I will ask if he has a girlfriend. IF we hookup again. He wasn't a spectacular lover. he ranks 3rd. it was rough, and I suspect the alcohol and cigs (maybe the nervousness about cheating? hope not) are taking a toll on his performance (I learn WAYYYYY too much in sex education and know way too much about sex and the body to not noticed. other girls might not but I did. I know)

He ranks 3rd. Out of um... UHhh. can't count. xD Mostly for durability and willing to the get-go. As well as being a gentleman hookup if there is such a thing. Hmm.

But is he really a gentlemen when he has a {possibly} girl (HOPE NOT) at home?

And all I wanted was a simple kind of life. I don't know how it got to this point.
When I envision myself as a lovegamer back in high school with loser self dreaming about it. i didn't realized how complicated, loving and leaving could be. sometimes.

The longer that I wait (for a special guy) the more selfish that I get (meaning I don't want one as much, will he (if I ever get there again, in a relationship) hurt me?)

Just another reason to keep writing, it's better that way, just going back to my writing now. And another reason to dream of him, the boy of my dreams, in all his unglamorous wardrobe, and geeky little square glasses, and eager "Oh boy!" lingo.

One day.

Rules

" Game?


Game.


Play.


The Game


Play It Well. "


Page 81 of Glass- by Ellen Hopkins. Truth.

Can't believe I did that.

I saw a Matt Damon/Ethan Hawke lookalike Blond at school.

He was sitting not too far away from me in the student union.

I was writing and when he left. I did too. But not before writing a note. With my number in it.

Yes. I did it. I gave it to him. At first I wasn't going to do it and wrote it just to prove to myself that I can do it. I was going to toss my note. So to make this more coherent for whoever really reads this, which is probably no one, seeing as the end of the semester tends to make us a bit crazy with all the homework and upcoming holidays.

But I'll give you the story straight now, just so I can come down off my rush.

I walked into the union. I need a place to sit and to put down my stuff. I go to the 2nd floor bathroom first and scout out the first floor for the best spot to sit at. (meaning where I would get most noticed...Yes I admit that because today I feel wonderfully confident. Beautiful even, and I want everyone to see me. & If I don't enjoy these days, then when I get old. I will regret not being like this.

SO anyhow, I scouted out the first floor, got out of the bathroom, went downstairs, walk, sat down from the cutie. I took out my writing and wrote while I glanced over occasionally to see him. Creepy, stalkerish much? yes, but it's only because I was so shy of myself, so self conscious in high school that to talk to a boy who I liked was impossible, among other things impossible were wearing anything that was below my collarbone,and I hid behind my books, baggy clothes, and more books.

So I am making up by missing all those years of never going out. Never having anyone to talk with. never having friends. I am determine to take over the world now and make it mine. One cutie at a time.

So He left and I packed up my stuff and I lost him. I didn't know where he went. So I continue walking around went outside, saw the night rolling on by. Then realized it was too early for me to leave still so I made a U-turn back to the union. I was walking in the walkway when I see him. Coming at me, going the opposite direction. It was now or never. Now or forget about it. Now or spend the whole semester to keeping an eye for him and going HE's CUTE! to Mikko and just whining about how no guys ever notice me and bitching about how I miss making out.

Not tonight. I said hey, he gave me a random look, and I gave him the note, and he reached out to take it. yahoo face. I smiled and said bye.
I left, walking walkign walking, ducking into the nearest building and that was that. And then I truly smiled at myself. I caught a reflection of myself on the doors, saw how I look, and thought, how far have I come, I have developed as a person. And I know that in a few years I will look back at myself now and think that I have developed myself more as person too.

No regrets. Not anymore.

I don't expect him to call. or text. It's okay. it's up to him. it's his call now, really it is, and whether he does or not won't affect me. because I know who I am now, and I have the confidence to be that person that I always wanted to be when I was a teen. I have the courage to be myself now, and I won't let myself lose that again.

If I see him around, I'll wink at him.

;)

Are you in the game?

........

It's all in good fun and games. Loving, lusting, with no abandoned. Not caring to get to know someone else beyond their bodies and gorgeous faces. Sexual crushes, turn realities, saying goodbye after a little bit of play and never hearing from them again and not wanting to. It create a sense of power, a sense of freedom, a sense of edginess, to contrast with the softness. It creates sway. But too much sway leaves one well alone. in times of solitude, in times of reminiscing, the game become dark. The lust, the allure, the intimate strangers, the pretty faces, the sculpted bodies, all lose their luster, their charm, the kisses become vague in memory because there is no meaning behind it either than the temporary passion that fueled it. The needs become satisfied and it loses it appealed. It becomes a reflection of the self, of being inadequate. Of not being the norm in a relationship, not wanting a relationship, being too selfish to want to get involved, and too selfish to give oneself to another, the only person worth that is conveniently unavailable. Contrasting how in a relationship, the self, takes a back seat to the relationship. How in a relationship, every game rule is thrown out the window, the countless chances of infidelity present and slapped away chastely least they threaten the relationship. And when not in a relationship, how different life is not being loyal to one person. How much more do guys and girls available for play are more present, are just there, where before they were just other people, part of the background, because the one and only took up my vision. Now returned lingering glances, little smiles, slightly provocative stances take on a whole new meaning, and don't because it's just lust. Just a game, really a love game. Lady Gaga got it right when she summed it up, because sometimes it is about lust, and only that, most of the time, but other times, it's just haunting. The lovegame for all its sway, power, haunts. It follows you down your exploits, the thoughts of doing it again and again, of being a slut, a whore, a lover, of affairs, haunts. It follows you up and down in the halls, in every time you dress, just swallows you up in the power and loneliness of it all. Follows you as you put on your makeup, as you chose your outfits for the day or night, and just think to yourself, I wonder who will I end up kissing, making out, frenching, biting by the end of the night, and then that last thought, Doesn't matter that much, I'm not going to see them tomorrow or any time soon after tonight anyway. The games makes you take a good look at yourself. In what you're doing and asks you every time, do you really want to play?

I know that's why I loved this remix of lovegame. When the original song came out, it was thrusted at me, force on me, the song never hearing it before, I got it sent by my friends, by those who know me best, saying, wow, Stephanie this song reminds me of you. It's so you! With that chorus of being on a mission, of wanting to kiss, of playing that damn game always, never turning down a ride on the disco. Complicated and stupid indeed. The original displays all the power of the game, all the gun, the lust, the sex. But the remix. The robots to mars remix. The remix has my heart. It shows the other side of the game. The side rarely seen but felt by all those who frolic. When I heard it, I was skeptical, and as I heard it more I appreciated it more for its contrasting melody with the lyrics. When I saw it paired with the original video. For me, the first 40 seconds of the video showed the distorted reality of it, I could hear the echoes of the original as Lady Gaga danced, but I saw the vulnerability of hers through this new sounds, seen especially in her fleeting looks of her jewel encrusted body. Vulnerability seen in the heart of the game, but only for three seconds.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZrCDPZB_nkw