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2002-06-02 - 11:39 p.m. two of hearts...i need you...i need you - stacey q s'wonderful..s'marvelous...that you should care for me - no idea..gershwin? cole porter?....you tell me.. firts of all, i'm ever so slightly tipsy, so you shou[d know thta. i am feeling much better today. the cold is finally subsiding. 2nd, the matt thing is getting better. we had amazing....how you say...make up sex...this morning. i know it's olny been 1 day, but he did things, and said things, adn stuff. good stuff. private stuff. my stuff. we went to friday's to watch the laker game w/ the gang. goddam, it was a good game. i just wanted to choke tha life outta the kings. motherfucks. i love matt. if i could tell you how sorry i am for hurting him, and what we have...if i could tell you w/o bieng super duper embarrassed...then i...might. i'm jsut drunk and tired enough to open up...sooo....i cried thatt night i told him about brent, and stuff. he made me cry. i slept on the couch....in my own fucking house!! he came over kinda late, adn i didn't want him to drive home all pissed off, and i told him to take the bed. he told me to get in, but ididn't. not becausse i didn't wanna, but because i DID. confused? well....good. i want to make myselfg suffer. i wanna like not let myself off the hook. see, i got to feeelup a lovely boy, AND , keep my beautiful boy, i got to have him completely this morning. i'll get to have him completely tomorrow, and the next day, and etc.......and i can't help but think thast i don't deserve it cuz i almost threw it away. fucking pissed it down the toilet like...well..piss. why? cuz i'm jsut not an asshole enough to still get the good stuff? i am a dick. i always say thet, like by admitting it, that it excuses when i prove it time and time again. i'm not fgeeling sorry for myself. fcuk feelig sorry for yourself!! i'm seriously asking. i am asking a serious fucking question. why do I get to have my cake and eat it too? don't wroory, i'm not patting myself on the fucking back for asking, but i am curious. i guess i'm half afraid thta one of these days my luck(?) is gonna run out. i guess it would be mcuh easire to not ask, and to just say fuck it, works for me, but i'm not one to let the good stuff come, adn not be more concerned w/ the arrival of the bad. to the point where i may even miss the good stuff, or ignore it, step right over it, pass right the fuck by it just to look out the windwo for the bad stuff. ooh look at me, i'm the pensive, deeply feeling guy. i'm os tired, and i'm just a little bit tipsy. tonuight matt told me he loved me, and he's telling me the truth. he does love me. matt loves me. i wonder though, when i say it back, can he believe me now? does he belive me? or just wanna believe me? how many people go through thier lives just beliveing cuz tehy wanna, because it's easier than accepting the reality. how am i gonna convince my angelito, mi corazon, that i do love him? when is he gonna hear the words come out of my ugly mouth, adn beleive them in his perfect heart? |
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