he pressed his fingers against the foggy glass of the passenger side window. i peeked at him through the darkness and waited for him to speak. but we sat there for a good 10 minutes just not talking and i felt anxious. i wanted to crawl into his ear and listen to his thoughts and then crawl down to his chest and lay down on his heart. i reached for his hand and he let me take it.

"stay with me tonight?" he asked.

i gulped and i felt my hand go limp in his. he felt it too and pulled his hand away from mine.

"i'm sorry. i just wanted to ask."

"it's only been-"

"yeah it's only been what? a week? 5 days? 120 hours? i smell your hair and kiss your cheeks. it feels like i've been smelling you for years and kissing your cheeks for months. when i saw you sitting at that piano that night it was love at first sight. i know you don't believe in it. i know you think i'm just another wacky guy with a complex that he's trying to fix. but i'm not. i'm not going to hurt you. i'm not going to change my mind in three months and decide that this isn't working. when you enter a room my heart leaps and you send this energy over my whole body. god i sound like a f-ing psycho.." his voice trailed off and he pulled his hand away from me and sighed.

i didn't hesitate and i reached for his face and brought his lips to mine. we kissed, a full gentle kiss, and then we pulled away from each other. our lips hesitated, wanting to reach out for their new, warm, friends but we put them back in their opposite corners like fighting children.

"i'm scared," i whispered.

"so am i," he assured me.

he left my car, quickly, and i sat their, watching him through the foggy window. he looked back at me for a split second and if i could have seen his eyes i would have abandoned my car right there and ran for him. but i couldn't see his eyes so i stayed practical and in my car.

but what is so practical about what i did? what 'idea' was i trying to live up to? the only thing i was trying to protect was my heart because i wanted to see him as this monster just waiting to reach out from under my bed and drag me into his world of nightmares. but all he wanted to do was wrap his arms around me, press my body against his and love me.

love.. the only four letter word that actually scares me to death.

we watched popular tonight. ever seen it? it's that show on the WB. the show was about the three brunette characters going blonde and how it changed their status in their high school. the show is pretty outrageous and strange, but i know that it was the key of the directors and producers to just be crazy. i admired that. dawson's creek and felicity are just creating angst-filled, way too introspective 14 year-olds.

when i was 14 i giggled at boys and wore flannel. i didn't analyze life and think everything sucked and point and blah.

he humored me as i watched, glancing occasionally over his reading glasses to glance at the screen. he was going over case files [being a social worker that's kinda part of his job] and he was busy. but the silence between us and occasional comments between commercials was sweet and comfortable.

i thought, as i watched the strange teen drama, of changing my own hair color. but at that moment he casually reached over and touched the back of my head, pulling his fingers through my hair and i glanced at him.

he wasn't looking in my direction at all but instead was concentrating on the papers in front of him. his head tilted away from me and against his hand that was supported by his elbow that rested on the arm of the black couch. his left leg rested on his right knee and a folder rested on the upside down 'p' that his legs had formed. but there he sat playing with my hair while he was writing, just playing and touching.

he suddenly glanced up after feeling my eyes on him and smiled.

"i was thinking of changing my hair color," i blurted out as his eyes met mine.

"your hair is already a nice color."

i shrugged and diverted my attention back to the television. perhaps he was right. but i was looking for a change. i was looking for a spark somewhere.

"are you going to give me the thing for your website?" he asked as he pressed his fingers into my back, a tired attempt at a massage probably.

"what thing?"

"the address?"

"yeah sure," i sighed and took the pen from his paused hand and looked for somewhere to write it.

"here," he pulled out a date book that was under his folder and opened it for me.

i wrote down the address and smiled weakly. his eyebrows furrowed ,probably wondering what was wrong. his forehead was full of cute little wrinkles between his eyebrows and i gave in a blurted out what i was thinking.

"i just feel strange. i'm introducing you to a big part of my life. i say things there that i might not normally say. i get out a lot of frustrations there. i wrote about you there."

"hey, i'm not going to judge you. but i want to read your words, not just see them."

i nodded. i understood.

so..hey greg, welcome to my words. please enjoy them and please.. stay as long as you like. heh.. :)

------------------------------------
27.4.00

my eyes are quiet / watching the way your shoulders move / inhaling the scent of your breeze / i am slowly absorbing the essence of your soul

your lips advance on mine/ touching / touching / kissing / caressing / singing / knowing / swallowing me whole

you make me write poetry. you have colored my dreams. you have brought this sweet, yellow, gentle light into my once dark and sad world.

i watched you tonight. i memorized how you moved. i noted how your hands slightly accentuated your words as you talked. i made a mental note of how your sweater hung from your body just right and how your eyelashes brushed your cheeks as you blinked.

i watched you and remembered it all because.. if all of this ends up being nothing i'll be able to remind myself of just how perfect [at that moment..that brief, beautiful moment] you were to me.

'don't wanna be an actor, pretending on the stage
don't wanna be a write with my thoughts out on the page..
don't wanna be a painter cus everyone comes to look..
don't wanna be anything where my life's an open book..
a dream it's true.. but i'd see it through.
if i could be.. wasting my time with you.."

god.. what a good song

----------------------

"call him," sam told me, waving the remote at me like a warning as we sat on the couch watching the fox news channel.

i nodded, took the phone and exited to the empty bedroom.

i dialed.

i waited for four rings and as i went to hang up i heard something pick up.

it was a machine.

do i leave a message? i panicked. what if he had caller id? i gulped and listened to his voice blare out that 'he wasn't home' and that 'i should leave a message'.

"hey, greg this is yana. i was just calling to say-" as soon as i had started the message someone picked up.

"hi," a gruff, sleepy voice mumbled into the phone.

"hi," i choked out.

"what time is it?" he asked as i heard him fumbling in the background.

i glanced down at my watch, even though i knew how many minutes had passed since i had last looked.

"10:27."

"oh. ok. i thought it was like 8 or something," he yawned into the phone and i couldn't help myself from picturing him naked or in his boxer shorts or whatever he was wearing.

"i could call back if you want," i had that sudden feeling that i wasn't wanted at the moment and was looking for a way out of that feeling.

"no, i'm glad you called. just let me wake up."

it took him way too long to wake up and i played with the leg of my pajama pants as i waited for him to finish yawning and coughing into the phone.

"are you ok?" i wondered as he coughed loudly into the phone.

"yeah, the cold last night kinda killed my lungs."

"oh, i was wondering if you wanted to do something today but if you don't feel good..." my voice trailed off and i let out a long sigh.

"if doing something could include doing nothing i'm up for it."

i tried not to let a smile spread across my face. i tried not to tell him that he had made me swoon the night before. i tried not to say anything that made me sound pathetic.

"do you want to come over here or do you want me to come over there?" i asked, trying to sound mega casual.

"i have loud roommates," he hinted and i glanced into the living room at sam and oliver staring blankly at the television screen.

"i have oliver," i laughed.

"you still win. give me your address and i'll be over later."

i scrambled to find a letter of some kind that had brandon's address on it. i found an unopened visa card bill and read out the address to greg over the phone.

"i'll be over later. i'll bring a movie and i promise not to cough all over you," he laughed into the phone after i had read him the address twice, just to make sure.

i resisted the urge to say "you can cough all over me if you want." and ended the conversation with a quick good-bye. i then sat there on the bed staring at the phone and then glanced down at my outfit.

i was wearing plaid pajama pants and a transformers t-shirt. i looked 12. but what exactly did someone wear to sit around all day? at the moment i didn't care and i dragged myself to the bathroom and threw myself under the hot water. i stayed there for a good 35 minutes, washing away all the dirt from last night.

i stepped out of the shower and wiped away the fog from the mirror and stared at my naked body, dripping with water. i had lost five pounds since leaving santa monica but i still felt strange. my breasts weren't perky enough and my skin seemed so loose. i turned to glance at the tattoo in the middle of my back. it was dark against my pale skin.. it looked almost fake and it made me feel childish.

i glanced away from the foggy mirror and quickly dried off, hurrying back to brandon's bedroom without a glance from oliver or sam who were entranced in something on the television screen.

i threw on something 'cool and casual' but i didn't really know if it was cool or casual and i waited.

while i waited i pulled all the thoughts i had about him onto my site [if you didn't catch it it's here] and waited more.

soon oliver and sam were dressed and borrowing my car to go meet brandon at work. they were having a guys day/night out. i glanced at my watch and it read 1:30 pm. at around 2, after oliver and sam had been gone for at least 20 minutes there was a knock on the door.

i jumped at the knob and pulled the door open to reveal a not so good-looking greg. his nose was red and his eyes looked tired. he looked like crap.

i wanted to make him soup or put him to sleep or something.

"hey," he sniffled with a smile and handed me a movie. he also held a bag in his hand and he walked into brandon's apartment slowly, looking around.

"you ok?" i asked, glancing at the back of his head that looked uncombed.

he nodded and pulled orange juice from the bag under his arm and shuffled quietly to the couch. i followed him and pressed my hand against his forehead. he wasn't hot. it relieved me to know he know he didn't have malaria or something.

it was then that i glanced at the movies that i was holding in my hand. the top movie was das boot and i smiled and touched the top of his head.

"it's some german u-boat flick that-"

"i've seen it. i love it."

he smiled a weak smile and i quickly placed the movie into the vcr.

but it came to be that we would only be watching little bits of the movie.

and no we weren't making out or doing anything nasty like some of you sicko's are thinking so :P

we talked. for hours we talked. he drank oj and we talked. for a little while he napped i played on the computer and i watched him sleep on the couch. when he came to i abandoned the computer and fled back to the couch. there were occasions where we would glance at the screen and watch it, silently, only to start speaking again when key moments of the movie were over.

it was around 5 pm when we both fell asleep against each other. one of us was snoring and one of us was drooling but it was sweet. we woke up, ate, watched bat mtv and talked more. then at 12 am he escaped from my weak grasp, planting little kisses on my cheeks and my hands.

"i've only known you for 24 hours and i adore you," he told me as we stood in brandon's doorway, our eyes locked.

"yeah it's that 'honeymoon period' thing," i laughed, biting my lip.

"well..." his voice trailed off and he ran his fingers down the inside of my left arm, "i want you to know every bad and good thing about me before you go on your trip."

"umm why?"

"i hope it will give you a reason to come back and have more nights on the couch with me."

he talked like i did. he thought like i did. it as then that i had my first real hard urge to kiss him. so i did..

i pulled his head down to mine and i kissed his sick lips. they were still soft and i lingered there for what seemed like forever and then he kissed me back, dropping the movies in his hand to the ground to wrap his arms around me as if this were a bad romantic movie of some sort.

i can still taste him on my lips.. orange juice and cough drops.

mmhm.. orange juice and cough drops..

it tasted good and most importantly..it felt good.

it was 7:30 and kevin had directed me to some random house where cars were flowing out of the driveway and into the street. i parked at the end of the long line and felt my stomach start to churn. i hated going to places where i didn't know 98% of the people. i hated it with a passion.

everyone fell out of my car and i looked around to find sarah. she appeared to the left of me and i grabbed her elbow.

"i'm going to die," i whispered and she laughed.

we followed oliver and kevin as they treked up the long driveway and suddenly i was in a crowd of people. there was a flood light somewhere that was illuminating the driveway and i felt eyes on me as we made our way to the front door.

people here knew sarah and kevin so i felt safe as people acknowledged them. we eventually made it inside to a very nicely decorated living room and i leaned against sam who was drinking in the very loud situation.

"hey yana, meet greg," i heard oliver yell somewhere in the people around us and i turned to be faced with guitar boy.

he reached his hand out towards me with a smile and i accepted it. as his hand touched my skin i melted. it was the rough yet soft kind of skin a musician might obtain after years of abusing their hands with guitars and drums.

"i wanted to meet you," he leaned down and spoke directly into my ear, "because i figured you would never come and talk to me."

i glanced up at his blue eyes and realized he was right. i would probably have never spoken to him. he was gorgeous, he played music and he dressed well. i probably would have never crossed a room to engage him in conversation.

"yes i would have," i lied with a smile as he offered me his ear to speak in to.

he pulled away and smirked at me. he looked a lot older then i rememberd and he smelled like wool and granola. i swooned over granola boys. they were in abundance in my home town, the boys who ate lunch at provisions, the natural food store and wrote poetry on the backs of their thesis papers in college.

"you played really well the other night," he moved his body closer to mine as someone wished to move past us.

"thanks," i said, "so did you."

what a dork i am i thought. "thanks, so did you"? was that the best i could come up with?

we then stood there for the next half an hour talking. we babbled about nothing and laughed at each others stupid jokes. it was the typical 'pick up' conversations that i usually hated but his eyes were saying more to me then his lips were.

he then quickly excused himself and i found myself alone, surrounded by no one i knew. i didn't know if i should leave where i was standing, in case greg returned, or go off in search of oliver or sam or sarah or someone else i knew. it was then that oliver suddenly appeared infront of me.

"who is he?" i demanded, grabbing oliver's arm and cringing at the smell of alcohol on his breath.

"i knew him when i was in high school and when he graduated we kept in touch," he responded, way too loudly.

"how old is he?" i wondered out loud.

"24 no wait 25 no..i dunno." oliver laughed, obviously already drunk and stumbled away from me.

"I'm 24," greg said suddenly from behind me.

i spun around to face him with a smile planted across my face and he returned the smile.

"but i act 12," he assured me, handing me a glass of clear liquid.

i nodded and glanced down at the glass. i didn't want to smell it, for fear that he would think that i thought he was druging me but i didn't want to drink it and find out it was alcoholic.

"it's water," he nodded, sipping on his own glass.

i smiled and pressed the glass against my lips, glancing up at him as i swallowed. he watched me as we drank and suddenly glanced down at his watch.

"there's a band going to play outside soon, you wanna go watch?" he asked, motioning for us to move from where we were standing.

i nodded and followed closely behind him. it was then that i realized what a jerk i was. here i was with a crush on a guy i hardly knew. the only thing i knew was that he was interesting, very very very attractive and loved music. i always looked down on my friends who got quick crushes on random people, even boys/girls they never talked to. but i did the same thing. i was a jerk.

i let the thought fly out of my head as we fell into the crisp cool night and he reached behind me for my hand as we entered into a large crowd.

"take my hand. i don't want to lose you," he called, without looking behind him and searching over the crowd for a space.

the band on the stage were tuning up and as we pushed through the crowd i felt bodies pressed against mine, suddenly we stopped and i fell against him. i didn't want to move, he smelled so good that i wanted to keep my face in his back.

but he pulled away from me and let go of my hand. we stood there in silence, glancing at each other and suddenly the band started playing. they reminded me of elliot smith with a little bit more angst as they pounded out akward notes but i enjoyed them.

i felt greg watching me on occasion but i kept my eyes on the band and tried not to blush. but when i felt his eyes on me again the red flooded my face and i tried to ignore him as his face drew closer to mine.

"i would tell you you're very cute but i figure you're one of those girls who doesn't like it," he yelled into my ear over the music.

i nodded and smiled, not looking at him.

i was that kind of girl.

he was the first boy to ever realize that without me having to say something and well.. usually i don't say anything.

i wrote his number on the back of my hand a few hours later, a usual practice when i don't want to lose something or forget about something.

i had once written many boys numbers there. they all had faded into my skin by now and as i handed greg back his pen he smiled and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward him in the now-dark driveway.

in that split second he pressed my body against his, lifted my head to his and kissed me. his lips pressed against mine and they were soft. oh.. they were so soft.

i pulled away from him blushing and made my way to the car where everyone was waiting for me.

i felt so guilty as i drove away. i was a jerk. not because i didn't plan to call him and not because i didn't want him to kiss me..but because i felt as if i was using him to feel more free and that he was like this stepping stone to me feeling like the me that i used to be.

but as the car passed by the driveway and i saw his shadow standing there, alone and i glanced at his number on my hand i felt warm.

no longer did i feel cold like my usual interactions with men..

i felt..so..warm.

----written to dynamite hack's boyz in the hood. that i got from phishtail.com a site that is new on my 'sites that i adore' list.----

it's so hard to write lately. i can't make any sense of the thoughts in my head. they seem so trivial to the things around me. there really is no sense in what i write as of late.

boys, music, and being sad.

that's what i write about.

i had lost most interest with jack.. and i figured the feelings were mutual. i didn't even read his response to the letter i posted. how he felt about it wasn't exactly important to me.. it was just important that i got how i felt. jack just he reminded me of all the other boys i'd ever surrounded myself with. music, girls and perhaps another random obsession is what surrounds the boys that surround me.

oliver: music, girls, alcohol.
sam: music, girls, computers
brandon: music, girls, graphic design
george: music, girls, comic books [the expensive kind not the 2.00 kind]
joe: music, girls, his buisness
richard: music, girls, being an EMT
richard: music, girls, books
my brother, sean: music, girls, stock market
tom: music, girls, food

those are the boys i adore. and the top two sam and oliver sat me down to say they really wanted to stay longer in seattle because they needed more male companionship i understood. i had breasts and though they considered me a good friend and very close to them there is no substitute for penis talk.

and i don't have a penis.

i redesigned for the final time. i decided i really like this design. it reminds me of playing gee-tar. it reminds me of boys with shaggy hair and converse all stars.

it reminds me of this song:

i wanna see it when you find out what comets, stars, and moons are all about
i wanna see their faces turn to backs of heads and slowly get smaller
i wanna see it now
i wanna see it now .....
i wanna see movies of my dreams

what do your dreams look like? tell me