A Sign I Couldn't Let Slide

I'm a big believer in signs.  I feel that when something pops out at you and catches your eye because of something on your mind, that wasn't there coincidentally.  Especially when it happens time after time after time and again.  And there have been plenty of signs over the past few weeks that keep pointing me to Drifter, but this one was pretty blatant.

It was two nights ago and I was taking a walk down a street I'd never been on before.  I had just left my place and had contemplated writing that last post over and over.  I wanted to get it out, put it down somewhere, and of course, stay true to my mission statement.  But I didn't want to curse myself, jinx anything, or just generally be too pathetic in a public sphere.  So I took a walk to listen to some music, see some New York, and gather my thoughts.

As I strolled, my mind was just flooded with Drifter.  How everything seems to be pointing towards something more, but I could just be horrendously misinterpreting it all and forcing myself into an unnecessary emotional roller coaster.  How he and are I surprisingly perfect for each other and more compatible than anyone else I've ever had an interest in, but is that just my gut and heart trying to convince my mind?  What on earth are his intentions?  Does he understand what my intentions are?  Am I being too aggressive and pressuring too much? Oy, my mind was just reeling.

I came across a bit of construction and the thinly walled wooden border had been doused with graffiti.  I love graffiti, so I made sure to take note of as much as I could as I passed by.  Walking down, there was so much to see, so much overlapping and so many pieces competing for their space to be noticed.  But there was one spot where no one was competing--there was one sentence in an open space, completely unobstructed by anything else.  As if everyone else had decided to respect it.  As if it was a supreme word.  It simply read:

"Write about love."

And my Lord, I was struck down to my bones.  I had been thinking of Drifter all day, but I didn't want to call it love (I still don't), and I didn't want to jinx the magic I was (and am) feeling.  Yet here it was, staring me in the face.  "Write about love."  I couldn't help the feeling that the universe had brought me here to see that, that this wasn't a coincidence.  So I went home, thought some more, got a good night's sleep, and woke up with a crystallized story to tell.  And that's why you see yesterday's post--because I couldn't let that sign slide.

Taken from http://bvswimmer33.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d2v0cjm

Writing about love because

"I may already love you,"

The A.S.S.

He makes me want to burst. Seriously.

I don't want to be alone any more.

I've been fine for the past few months after my last big rejection, and I decided, "Fuck it. I'm single and I can't change that right now."  And somehow, that worked and I didn't care about being single.  It was just what I was and that's how my life was.  No big deal either way.  But now, now that there is a prospect and there has been even the slightest form of reciprocation, I'm getting butterflies all the time.

I think about Drifter more than I should--we still barely know each other.  But we've had a few dates now and every time, the hours just fly by as we talk and tell stories and just laugh with each other.  Believe me, I know how corny and ridiculous I sound when I say this, but I honestly and truly feel that he and I have a deeper connection I've never formed with someone so quickly.  It was there as soon as I met him.  Right from the start, we understood each other.  And it took a lot of finagling and walking on eggshells to get the ball rolling, but it is now and I can't believe how I'm feeling.

I don't think I felt this way even when my first boyfriend kissed me for the first time!  He makes me smile constantly and I'm so incredibly comfortable with him--I tell him stories I would never tell a stranger and he reciprocates.  We're moving slowly, but there are definite steps being taken and my heart is flying.

I was fine being alone.  I was content.  I walked down the streets, singing the music in my headphones, and smiling for no reason.  Things were working.  But now there's this wrench in the situation--I smile wider, I play my music louder, I sing more strongly, and I dance.  I was fine being alone, but not anymore.  I just want to be with him.  I want to hear another story from him, I want to order him another cup of coffee, I want to hold his hands and turn them over as I trace the lines in them, study the way he sits in his own skin, laugh at his ridiculous stories, show him that scar on my shoulder, lose myself in his eyes, and I want to melt into his smile.  Even as winter approaches and the sun disappears into the haze, there's this new part of me that's shining so brightly I want to burst.

Yeah, he literally makes me want to burst with joy.  I won't say I'm in love, but I think this just might be the precursor to it.

Taken from http://porcelainteacup.deviantart.com/#/d2xkc2b

Dancing on clouds,
The Amplified Shadowed Side.

Gratuitous Boy Talk

Time to talk about boys!  As much as I hate to dump this out on a blog, I promised to do just that.  And what blog of a college girl would be complete without boy talk?

So!  There are three I'd like to tell you all about.  One of them you already know!  You remember Peachy Keen?  Cool.

Let's begin, yes?  We'll start from what we know.

And NOW It's Rejection.

The weekend is over, so NOW it's rejection.  Here's the story:

I met a guy at a party a few weeks ago.  I thought we had really hit it off, talking extensively, enthusiastically, and understandingly.  I felt this deeper connection from the get-go, which basically never happens to me.  I couldn't help it, but there was this great sense that he actually understood me.  And few people understand me--hell, I barely understand me.  So when we hit it off so well, I was intrigued.

I wanted to talk for hours, but he had to leave.  So I waited a few days and my friend who had introduced us encouraged me to keep in touch with the guy.  My friend insisted he was one of the greatest guys he knew and I should absolutely go for it.  So, with the guidance of my friend, I facebooked him and waited a few more days to send a message.  The message expressed my interest but left it an open-ended question--I gave him my number and told him to contact me anytime.  The ball was in his court.  And then came the waiting game.

I sent it exactly a week ago.  I figured maybe he would be quick to send a response with few details but a clearly illustrated interest--nothing.  My guy friends said to wait it out over the weekend, because that's when you would actually do something, if anything.  So I waited.  I waited and avoided using the term.  Well, it's Monday now.  And not a single word from him.  The weekend is over, so now it's rejection.

And cue the standard emotional struggle!  Do I pursue further, do I try to just be friends?  Is he a douchebag for not even saying a damn word to me, do I just push him from my mind and move on?  Oh, the politics of flirtation.  I really just don't know how to play the game at all.  Another plunge, another rejection.

Put it on my tab.

http://silvermercury.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d10iyru

Alone once again,
The A.S.S.

Summer of New Love

Well, hello there! Fancy seeing you here! What has it been, half a year? Well, not quite. But, I'M BACK.

And I'm sorry that it took me so long to do so. The past few months have been a whirlwind or work, emotion, time, friends, family, everything. It all raced by and I'm still struggling to keep up with Father Time as he races onward. Who knew such an old dude could run so fast!

But, I know no one cares about this blog, so I won't dwell on apologies. I'll just pick it back up where I left off--sort of.

So where were we? Ah, yes, springtime in New York. Well, with lovely springtime comes not-so-lovely finals. So that was a black hole that I couldn't escape. And then came summer. And soon, I was completely enveloped with the fact that I ACTUALLY had FREE time to do nothing and NO responsibilities, and I was enamored. It had been so long! So I literally laid around ALL day, EVERY day, just enjoying the calmness of nothingness. But you can just call me a lazy shit. That works too.

And next? Well, what happened next changed my life irrevocably.