The "Draft" box of my email reads (9)
I wish I could speak eloquently and say these things in person
Sometimes when I speak, I close my eyes --
It makes things easier. Is that wrong?
I can't look you in the eyes when I talk about how I really feel, or when...
I don't know what it is about them
Maybe it has something to do with the fact that they are honest and mine are not.
That look you gave me in the kitchen that day --
I was wearing my blue sweatshirt and you came in scruffy, smelling like drinks, bloodshot
We were both hesitant.
I tried to act as normal as possible, jabbed you with jokes
but you looked at me like you... I can't even describe it. But I know that look... Something about it looks timid, searching, careful, true, hopeful.
And when you look at me that way I try to ignore you or blink or look away
I don't know why. I don't know what i'm afraid of.
That maybe that look -- when you look at me that way --
I feel it hard and heavy, It is ambitious and direct, moves quickly. I feel it in my chest, and then deep. It hits me. It hurts.
And I don't know why it hurts because it's mine.
Maybe it's because I know (or think I know, how foolish we are, I am) that it's ill-fated, that it won't work, that it can't work, that you won't let it work, that He won't let it work, that it's fleeting, that you looked at her and her that way and felt the same wayl. But I wonder if you really did and if they still believe it too and hold on to see it one more time. Sometimes I look at you and hope to see it.

I'm sad a lot these days. I figured it out last night, where it comes from. And it's not just you. It started from long ago. I picture myself: bangs, small eyes, dress, skin on face, knees pointed inwards, twisting at the hip holding my skirt, lip bit, acting, while inside I worry and am anxious. I don't think this really happened, I just picture it. As with many things.

The roots run deep, it began long ago. Started with my family --
my parents, my sister.
And last night I realized my ability to hate. No, not just my ability, but that it does exist within me. I never thought it did... Came close, but never thought it was that.
But last night I realized it was there and it's still there, right now (It didn't go away.)
I asked the Lord what to do with this,
that I knew I was depraved but didn't know it was this bad
and I knew the answer and know the answer (J-e-s-u-s), but didn't think it was enough
(but told myself it was, asked Him to help me believe it was, to take me to the cross (generically), and finished my prayer)
I should know better, and I should be better. I do know better.
But it's harder than I thought it would be. Actually, it's not.
With you, I knew it would be this hard. But
it's about many things, not just you.

Do you remember that day on the couch? The day I stopped sitting on my side and you on yours, and when we talked all of this through and I told you that you probably couldn't give me what I needed? And you responded with, "You don't think I can give you what you need? You don't think I can make you happy?" And you do, but I knew you wouldn't and can't.

I hate that I'm so consumed by all of this these days. There's so much more than this.
But I can't seem to get outside myself. I keep reeling myself back in. And I wonder if you feel the same. Or if you're waiting
for a time that's convenient

call me sketchy

You know what I miss about Korea?

the dvd bangs.

yeah, everyone told me they were sketchy and that people did dirty things on those bed/couch thingies, but i loved it nonetheless. I loved going with friends, having the whole room to yourself, sitting any which way you wanted, surround sound, big screen, movie of choice, munching on snacks from LG mart... Everytime someone said, "what do you want to do?" i'd be like, "DVD BANG!!!" and then the jokes would come. but i took them and still would.

they need to get one up in my area. if you know of one, let me know