10wordsorless.

When are you coming home? I miss you.

...

Sunday was slipping into the horizon when I knocked on your door. Your door was always open but I still knock every time. You always ask me why I do, and I always shrug you off. I made myself comfortable as conversation drifted to church and religion. I told you about my morning spent at church.... and you told me how you didn't approve of any of it. I told you I was skeptical myself. 

You pounced.

"Well, why do you go?"

I thought about it a moment... searching for the right words.

"Because... I figure maybe one day I'll get saved, and I'll be happy. Have you ever noticed how happy they are?"

You thought about it a moment, glancing towards your computer. You have a way of making such complex thing so simple. So simple that you put them in a way that I never seen before. You looked back at me, with that familiar mischevious glint in your eyes. A smile spread across your face.

"I am happy... don't I look happy?"

I shook my head, trying not to smile. 

"Besides," you continued, "What do I have to fear? The Almighty Forgiving?"

I snicked uncontrollably.

"Seriously. If He forgives everyone, why do people still go to Hell?"

"I never thought of it like that..."

"Never? How!? It's the basis of the religion!"

For a spilt moment I felt ridiclously mindless. I didn't have an answer... only a sudden feeling of uneasiness.

I wish I was as witty and unyielding as you are. You form your own opinions without giving a second thought as to how things should be. I wish I shared an ounce of your carefree nature. For a second I would like to walk in your shoes and see the world as simply as you do.

Maybe then I'd really be happy. 

proxemic patterns.

I piled on layers of warm clothes in an attempt to keep myself warm. Gathered up blankets in my arms in an effort to trick my body into sleep. My mind was too clever... too stubborn to let me go for the night. Intent on reminding me of how easier it is to fall asleep with someone close by. Reminding me of how the breathing patterns of another make the perfect background noise.

I try to get out of my mind but it isn't long before sleep is snaking past third base, and there is no way that I can catch up.

I'm stuck behind, desperately wanting to get lost in a mess of limbs and skin. Wanting to run my hands along familiar scars and hear him recall the stories behind each. Floating closer to sleep on every word. Whispering because I'm too tired to raise my voice.

Too tired to raise my voice but afraid to close my eyes because this moment, this skin, this feeling... it's all too amazing.

people are so lame.

People never cease to amaze me with the things that come out of their mouths.

I wish I had someone to talk about it with.

"raaaarwrrah"

"I kicked the door in..."
"Really?"
"Yeah. The professor was like, "raaaawrrra""

We both hunched over, holding our sides from laughter. Minutes ticking by. Class had started ages ago, neither of us motivated enough to care. Laziness was our excuse today. Too lazy for class, not nearly lazy enough not to spend forever talking.

"Have you ever noticed he never takes the elevator? He walks all the stairs"
"There's a reason for that,"

I could see the smile forming at the corner of your mouth, your eyes glinting in that familiar way. The punchline was coming. I started to laugh as you tried to suppress your own.

"No, seriously"
"Why?"
"He had a heart attack about 3 or 4 years ago"

The news was horrible, but you laughed anyway. I bit my cheek, trying to stop myself from falling out. I was finally able to utter a response.

"Why are you laughing? That's not funny"
"Then why are you laughing?"

"your mask is awesome"

kids shivered outside the small venue, crowded around the tour bus hoping to catch a moment with the weary performers. they shivered, too, eyes red with beers and cigarettes tucked in their cold hands. still they posed for pictures, signing anything the kids thew at them. one pregnant teen squealed as a guy scribbled his name across her protruding belly. band members smiled widely, wrapping their arms around fans and joking like they all were old friends.

we finally got our chance to get close enough to one of the pale faced band members. his dark curls were hidden by a brown a blond haired mothered held out a t-shirt for him to sign.

"why the masks?" the mother asked.

his voice was raspy in a way that would make indie girls swoon. marked with an LA edge, a tone completely unique to all screamers. he mumbled out a response as he scribbled his name over the shirt. i watched his hand glide across the shirt, his name etched out across his face.

"your mask is awesome," i heard myself say.

he glanced up at me, tired eyes sparkling. "thanks"

keys.

well, what do they look like?

the question was innocent enough, I thought. if I'm looking for something, I want to know what I'm looking for. you didn't bother turning in my direction, only snickered a response over your shoulder.

they look like keys.

I narrowed my eyes in embarrassment and anger, wondering if you knew the many varieties of keys. there are house keys, car keys, mailbox keys... keys with lanyards, keys on rings... all kinds of keys. I didn't bother explaining this to you, as you saw the look on on my face and sobered up apologetically. I made a mental note to dislike you in the future.

I saw you a few weeks later. the incident was still fresh on my mind. you smiled, I scowled. you laughed at me again.