i ask him sometimes even though i shouldn't and he tells me he does and to stop asking him and that i worry too much .

my throat hurts from choking back these words . my chest hurts , too . why ? oh . no big deal . i just have a little bit of a broken heart ... nothing major . i can feel the prickling behind my eyelids so i'm keeping my eyes closed so that nothing unwanted falls out before i go to sleep , saving the torrents for the first few seconds so that the suffocation is as painless as possible ( assuming , of course , that the pain is purely physical . which it is ) .

there's nothing better than blasting andy c. as i pull into my neighborhood at 6:45 a.m. , past all the kids waiting at the bus stop for the bus to take them to school , and knowing i get to go to bed when i get home . i fucking love college .

you can run as fast as you want , but you can never outrun nick lachey .

stop rehearsing alcohol and start performing narcotics .

is it me ? ... i have no idea what just happened , or why it keeps happening , or why i let it keep happening .

in my rearview mirror i see a pair of headlights that i am sure belong to no other than you , because who else is out on lyons at 4:10 a.m. ? my foot won't press any harder on the gas , though , even though the speed limit is 40 and i am going anywhere from 32 to 37 miles per hour but my brain is sending signals to MOVE MOVE MOVE faster and faster away from the headlights approaching from behind because i don't want you to see me like this . until you see me again , every time you think of me , i want you to remember me as composed , optimistic , even detached , in my goodbyes -- not this emotional wreck with bloodshot eyes and song lyrics for every situation . somehow you're next to me now and i mouth the words i can't do justice to before pulling up slightly ahead of you and moving into the left turning lane extremely in advance so the door panel blocks your view and i peel out to just get away before this explosion of ruined eyeliner runs down my cheeks ( continues ? ) . i hate you for doing this to me but i've never been so much more in love and wednesday is coming soon but there won't always be a wednesday and i don't know if i should appreciate what i have or curse myself for falling for a long-distance relationship . all i do know is that for once , i can arrive home with tears in my eyes and not have to explain or compose myself . i can sit in my room and think about anything but you , rather , lie to myself , and hope you're driving carefully because five days is long enough and even though i'd wait forever for you , i don't want to have to .

i have never been so much more in love in my life ... except once . <3

i love you .

ms. mary mack ( i haven't really heard a mac like this in awhile )
you lead and i will follow . even though i have to be up in four hours , this dance is far too sweet for me to abandon it so soon . i can hardly breathe in your embrace but it's still not tight enough , so i'll wrap my arms around you a little harder until i'm out of breath and gasping for air . if you trip and fall , you know i'll be here to catch you , but i don't think you will , because i knew from the start that you are a better dancer than me . regardless , i'll close my eyes and let myself fall ( in love ) , because although it's a risky plunge , i know you won't let me get hurt .

i'm so excited .
i'm so excited .
i'm so ... scared .

hahaha . whooo . finally legal . wanna fuck ?

life is too short
so love the one you got
cause you might get run over
or you might get shot

never start no static
i just get it off my chest
never had to battle with no bulletproof vest

take a small example
take a tip from me
take all of your money , give it all to charity

life is what i got
it's within my reach
and this sublime style's still straight from long beach

it all comes back to you
you're bound to get what you deserve
try and test that
you're bound to get served

love's what i got
don't start a riot
you'll feel it when the dance gets hot

lovin ... is what i got .

...


let the lovin , let the lovin come back to me .

your hand on the nape of my neck sometimes gives me a rush - maybe you can even call it a spasm ? - that i think you can relate to in the privacy of your own room , lying in bed , a pillow under the nape of your neck . it's the saltysweet mix of power and love , of frustration and trust , of understanding and comfort . there's nothing better than erratic stories and half-smiles at strange angles , except discouraging telephone conversations and self-opening doors . i wish i could explain it better but it's hard to form sentences because i keep stopping to do other things , like ignore the longing that's forming in my fingers and toes and my legs that have nothing to wrap around and the arms that have nobody to hold .