Then Holding Hands
...written on 2007-02-07, @ 8:33 a.m.
my little one is a confusing doll...
sometimes, her stories are so harsh, i can hardly believe her.
like today...
she says her dad is shutting her phone off and taking her to some juvenile center...
now she wont even txt back.
i wonder about her.
i even worry about her.
i'm worried about her relationship with michael.
i don't want her fucking with his heart.
she's prone to do it...
she's young.
i don't see them lasting.
she sees he and i lasting.
she wants to be my little one.
she is.
i love going home to him.
i love waking up and having his body heat keeping me warm
i sit on the edge of the bed
tying up my chuck taylors in the dark
trying not to bother or wake him
when he puts his arm around my side
pulls me in for a kiss
i love to admire him
i adore him
our bodies can't resist eachother.
we went to bed with the intentions of sleeping
nothing else
and yet, we fall asleep
hours later...
so that i struggle to get up for school.
i like the way he gets when he's concentrating...
i watch his hand as he writes
admiring...
his nearness is so comforting
that i cannot even begin to express with all these words
how i feel.
four words
please don't leave me
because this...
well this is my goodness.
this is what i've been waiting for.
i dont want there to be another.
and life was perfect
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