s$ .d""b. impulse reality press no. 185 [-- $$ $$ $$ -- ------------------------------------------------------ --] $$ $$ "Sometimes" $$ $$ written by noxious et candor $$ $$ released 4/21/02 [-- $$ $$ ------ ------------------------------------------------------ --] dBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBb BP YBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBb dB YBb BLAKE YBBBb dB YBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBb Yb YBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBb Yb YBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBb Yb YBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBb Yb YBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBb Yb YBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBb Yb dBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBb Yb dP=======================/ YbB=======================( Ybb=======================\ Y888888888888888888DSI8888b "Sometimes I love you," I said to her. Well, I didn't quite say it. I thought it. This was an important step for me. I had resolved to be uncertain at all times. After my 17 years of life, making decisions and sticking to them, I realized that it was time for a new direction. I looked in her eyes and wondered if I should try to figure out what was on her mind. I'd always known how soft her brown eyes were, but this time I sank through the surface. She once told me that she had the power to change men's ideas about what they want. I didn't see this at the time. I didn't see anything. But I saw everything. I don't know. I spoke, not knowing if I expected her to understand. "Sometimes my thoughts become so muddled that I'm not sure that they're really even thoughts. But I feel like they are." What was that expression on her face? Did she understand? I wanted to kiss her, but decided not to decide. Somewhere, I knew, inside me I had a big pile of decisions that were probably made, at least partially. Somehow I'd misplaced them. I looked down at my hands, swearing they were three shades lighter than the last time I'd checked. I imagined touching her, resolving never to let go. "Sometimes, you know, when you're gone, it's like, you know, and then when I see you again, it's like..." She smiled, taunting me. "It's like what, B? What's it like?" She knew what it was like. She knew what I couldn't say. And furthermore, I knew she couldn't say those same things. Deciding not to decide was my way of making things easier, but the practice was different from the theory. As soon as I lied not to decide, I knew that I had actually decided. Or was it me? I fought, fought hard to hold it back. But I had to admit, at least to myself, that I was addicted to her. I couldn't let her go away again. Not like this. I needed to say it. I needed her to know as much as I needed to say it. "You know, sometimes I love you," I blurted, fighting to retain consciousness so as not to swoon at her feet like I always believed I would. She smiled. "You mean sometimes as in always?" she asked. I bit my lip. Yes, as in always! As in I've always loved you! As in you are the best part of my life and I can't imagine why I thought life was ok 20 minutes before I met you! I blinked, unable to say a word. "I thought so," she said, grinning. Seeing her cute little dimples was more than enough to satisfy me. dBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBb BP YBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBb dB YBb JANE YBBBb dB YBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBb Yb YBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBb Yb YBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBb Yb YBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBb Yb YBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBb Yb YBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBb Yb dBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBb Yb dP=======================/ YbB=======================( Ybb=======================\ Y888888888888888888DSI8888b He was staring with a look like he was about to confess my dog had been run over by a car. I felt uneasy. Then as his gaze drifted form the floor to my eyes, I could tell this was something not serious at all, but merely embarrassing... He mumbled something inaudible and clumsy, and I IMMEDIATELY realized this was about love. For a writer he sure wasn't having a way with words. Then I remembered I was a girl. The almighty woman. The sex with power. The one who was known for having inexplicable control over HIM! I composed myself and let him dig himself deeper. There was no way I would let this guy know I felt even an ounce for him. Never... "Sometimes, you know, when you're gone, it's like, you know, and then when I see you again, it's like..." I had to smile. What are you SUPPOSED to do when someone is capable of saying exactly how you feel? I bit. "It's like what, B? What's it like?" I had to tease him, couldn't let him know it was THAT easy. He knew all about my 90% theory. He knew I wouldn't admit a thing. Still, I was afraid. Then he admitted it... I dont think I rememeber the next thing I said. It was something like, "You mean sometimes as always?" Uh oh... I was letting the guard down, the infamous guard that had protected me from ever feeling... well, feeling more than I could handle. Yet I felt like I had crossed that line already. I had to cover up any possible insecurities that were seeping through my hard shelled exterior, so I coyly remarked, "Thought so." Deep inside, I hoped to keep him guessing. That meant he would never grow bored, or know he had me in the palm of his hand. That way I was safe, safe from totally looking like a fool in love. He would never know that side of me. Never. Yet as I looked at him, I knew he knew too much. [-------------------------------------------------------------------------] the clever thing to do here would be to put some sort of copyright. no. http://www.phonelosers.net/ir [-------------------------------------------------------------------------]