nothing seems to be coming out of my fingers.

i've become someone i despise you know? i've become the girls in the corner with the cat like grins and the evil nail polish that taunted my ability to be unique in high school. i've gained attributes of the jealous girls in film class who wanted to be oliver's girlfriend and touch his milky white skin. i've become the girl who wants you to look at her because she thinks she's so amazingly beautiful.

but i want you to look at me because i don't even know what i look like anymore and i want you to tell me.

it's all because i was suppose to be on the east coast by the end of may. i wasn't suppose to actually fall for anyone. i wasn't suppose to want him so much that i can't even express words to him anymore. i'd fucked up great guys before by saying what i didn't mean to say. now i'm about to fuck up a great guy by not saying anything.

i feel lost inside my skin. i am a woman. i am a person. but lately i feel like a little girl watching in through a window at the rest of the world working, thinking, loving, and conversing. i want to take part in that..

i just want to get inside again so i can be warm. warm like that night i wrote his number on my hand.

...complete...

conversations with my mother lately just seem to bring me into this deep, wallowing, hole of sadness. my simple questions about my grandmother, brother, father and various other family members is nothing but bad news.

"mimi's memory is getting worse," she sighed. mimi was what we called my grandma due to a slight slip by the oldest grandchild and my cousin, laura.

"should i call her?" i asked, pulling agnew's little warm sleeping puppy body into my lap.

"to be honest honey, i don't know if she'll remember who you are."

i choked back the tears and nodded.

"your uncle asked me to ask you to call him."

"is he ok?" i sighed.

"he's lonely."

so am i. i thought, petting agnew as his little puppy eyes opened.

i pressed the off button on the phone, after we had said our good-byes, so very, very, slowly. as i heard it shut off my eyes erupted into tears and i sat there, a tiny and fragile puppy in my arms just crying. my lips were shaking and my head began to throb with the all too familiar pain of crying.

i never got to say good-bye to my grand mother before she started forgetting all the big important things, like her grand children and even my grand father.

i tried to dial brandon's apartment, hoping oliver or sam was around to talk. but the numbers flooded together, swimming in a pool of my pain and i let the phone slide out of my hand and onto the floor. the beeping began soon after, the phones way of trying to remind me that i didn't hang it up. that's when i screamed, ever so quietly, causing poor agnew to shy away from me.

the older i get the worse it all seems. the younger i was the easier it was to not know anything because no one told me anything. life was so easy when i lived a life of blissful education and friendship. it was all so much easier before i met boys and before i was considered an adult.

i never asked to be an adult. i never wanted to deal with all of this. but everyone looks to me for some sort of answer as if my iq or my education can answer it all. but why now? why me? why this?

i just wish that i had all the answers.. do you? tell me.

there are no special words to be said today.

for me, life usually just puts her pen down and writes for me. i don't think when i write i just do. i don't notice what i write it just happens but i sat down tonight and nothing came out.

i guess life has taken the day off today. i don't blame her.. she probably needs one.

note: to all the people who come here and read my life. thank you. your words, links, e-mails etc are much needed encouragement. you know there are times when you think no one is watching and you start to think that no one cares. then suddenly you realize.. someone does and that it's more then one person; that really makes my day, week and month. thank you

"he's a really, really, nice guy," sarah nodded, scraping the last bit of popcorn from the bottom of the bowl and nodding toward the direction of where "the boys" were hanging out.

she was talking about greg. everyone, as of late, was always talking about greg. my mother, who had spoken to him on the phone a total of twice e-mailed me to say how nice and sweet he seemed. i was getting e-mails from random, nice, interesting people to tell me that i had potential with greg and not to blow it.

'not blowing it' had become my latest endeavor. i had blow it before with nice, sweet, interesting guys and i wasn't about to fuck it up with this one. no. i wasn't.

i watched him sitting there, on his piano bench with his wrinkled white cotton shirt and dark blue jeans. he wasn't wearing shoes and his white cotton socks rubbed against the pedals of the piano. i watched him so much lately. he is like watching a movie, even when he's just milling over paper work or waiting for the water to boil. he's the perfect movie.

for me at least.

you come to realize that at a certain point if you're able to watch someone who is watching water boil, you're in too deep to get out. you know that if they said to you "hey, look this is fun but i need to go to alaska and live like an eskimo," you would go and live like an eskimo with them. but the problem for me,as i thought about this, was that i realized i have only known him for two weeks.

they say age has no bearing a relationship but does time? did the fact that we were still toddlers as far as time goes but old geezers as far as knowledge [about each other] make a difference?

later on that night, after our guests had gone and the apartment was quiet and i watched him sleep i realized the answer was in a simple quote that, years ago, i adored:

"two people can live under the same roof for years and never truly know each other but two people at first meeting are old friends."

simple as that