Monday, February 02, 2004
the fall
i always trip on the 8th step up. tripping up is hard to do, but it never fails, and always in front of FJ. he never talked to me after that first time. he told me i was the best he had ever had, and i told him that i didn't believe that kind of bullshit. he laughed and lit another cigarette. flattery will get you nowhere with me, but a homemade valentine card got me in his bed. i'm not bitter but it's that blank stare. the way he stares through me. i move on.
first day of classes. it's not cold yet. so there is still plenty of time to look cute. for myself, i have learned. as myself has gotten me this far. you are never alone on those first few days. at breakfast, someone i don't know sits next to me. not across. he puts his hand up my skirt and i let him. with his other hand he writes on a napkin.
"room 409, see you after class" and then he looks up and winks. that a man thinks he owns me after one feel-up in the dining hall. but i'm curious and after intro to fiction, i go look him up. i realize i don't even know his name, but that has never stopped me before.
i look at the door. Shawn. i am a sucker for a man named Shawn. how did he know? i have stopped believing in conincidences. everything happens for a reason. that's mostly why i'm here. i'm not interested in getting laid. i can have that any time i want. seriously. it's all about the eyes.
his eyes are blue. he's into film. but so is everyone else at this school. there are movie posters on the wall. is this Dawson's room? i think of a sadistic Joey Potter running out of the closet with a knife at my back. Shawn reads my mind, "I don't like Spielberg. What an amateur." i nod.
he plays me "Pet Sounds" because what else do these types of guys play for these types of girls. i am not impressed. i'm not fuckin' 15 anymore. i grew out of this. i yawn.
he grabs my elbow as i head for the door, but i pull harder. i hear the sound of paper as it falls gently to the ground.
Seth comes around later that night. Seth is gay. Seth has an S name and i like that. he tells me about this boy named Pablo, and that he almost ended up in jail. something about stalking. i have done that too. but he claims he was set up. that the boy is paranoid. that doesn't surprise me. so is every man here. which is why i'm still alone. undersexed. and bored.
sometimes i think about transferring. but i could never find my type in the midwest.
¶ 5:41 AM
|
i always trip on the 8th step up. tripping up is hard to do, but it never fails, and always in front of FJ. he never talked to me after that first time. he told me i was the best he had ever had, and i told him that i didn't believe that kind of bullshit. he laughed and lit another cigarette. flattery will get you nowhere with me, but a homemade valentine card got me in his bed. i'm not bitter but it's that blank stare. the way he stares through me. i move on.
first day of classes. it's not cold yet. so there is still plenty of time to look cute. for myself, i have learned. as myself has gotten me this far. you are never alone on those first few days. at breakfast, someone i don't know sits next to me. not across. he puts his hand up my skirt and i let him. with his other hand he writes on a napkin.
"room 409, see you after class" and then he looks up and winks. that a man thinks he owns me after one feel-up in the dining hall. but i'm curious and after intro to fiction, i go look him up. i realize i don't even know his name, but that has never stopped me before.
i look at the door. Shawn. i am a sucker for a man named Shawn. how did he know? i have stopped believing in conincidences. everything happens for a reason. that's mostly why i'm here. i'm not interested in getting laid. i can have that any time i want. seriously. it's all about the eyes.
his eyes are blue. he's into film. but so is everyone else at this school. there are movie posters on the wall. is this Dawson's room? i think of a sadistic Joey Potter running out of the closet with a knife at my back. Shawn reads my mind, "I don't like Spielberg. What an amateur." i nod.
he plays me "Pet Sounds" because what else do these types of guys play for these types of girls. i am not impressed. i'm not fuckin' 15 anymore. i grew out of this. i yawn.
he grabs my elbow as i head for the door, but i pull harder. i hear the sound of paper as it falls gently to the ground.
Seth comes around later that night. Seth is gay. Seth has an S name and i like that. he tells me about this boy named Pablo, and that he almost ended up in jail. something about stalking. i have done that too. but he claims he was set up. that the boy is paranoid. that doesn't surprise me. so is every man here. which is why i'm still alone. undersexed. and bored.
sometimes i think about transferring. but i could never find my type in the midwest.
¶ 5:41 AM
|
