Babelore
Chapter 1:
Scarlette and her four best friends all turned 17 in May, right at the end of their Sophomore year of highschool and the beginning of what should have been a fabulous summer. They all lived in big, spacious houses in a small suburban town just south of Tampa Bay, Florida. Their city was called Tillipeneigo Shores but everyone Scarlette knew called it T-town. It wasn't a commercial village but it still got some tourism here and there. But not enough to hinder everyone's carefree vacation.
Zenna's birthday was first, on the 7th, then Hanley's on the 11th, Scarlette's on the 12th, Cat's on the 20th and Persephone's on the 23rd. They all had their own individual parties that each and every one of them attended, but as a bonus, this year at the very end of July, Hanley's parents took the girls out into the bay to dolphin watch. Hanley's little brother Chipper came along, but he was very mildly irritating so no one really minded.
It was hot and they'd all worn bikini tops and fleece shorts with flip-flops. Zenna, naturally, looked the best, her chestnut hair freshly highlighted and her tanned skin sparkling radiantly in the afternoon sun. Scarlette wondered often why Zenna hadn't yet tried to be a model. She had considered it a year or so ago but her schedule had been so demanding that she'd almost instantly let the idea slip by to focus on school and her delciously handsome boyfriend, Harris Meaning. He was in their grade but often hung out with some older college football boys and scored all the girls passes into some of the hottest frat parties around (that their parents had no idea they attended, of course).
She leaned over the railing of boat and applied a fresh layer of lipgloss. "I haven't seen a single dolphin," she whined, her eyes sheilded behind huge designer sunglasses. "Where are they?"
"I'm sure we'll see some soon," Scarlette's cousin Hanley said, sipping a Capri Sun and scratching a bug bite on her left shoulder. Hanley always looked kind of hardpressed when Zenna complained, as if she was the soul person in charge of keeping her entertained. "It's still early."
Zenna Lorenholder was kind of snooty. Well, in all actuality, she was completely snooty. But then, she always had been so it was no reason for the other girls to dislike her. They were used to her better-than-thou attitude, and considered it entirely rewarding if they were able to get her nose out of the air at least every once and a while. The group was all very close, but everyone, for the most part, had their secrets.
Scarlette Thetcher ran track and drew colorful sketches in her free time. She was constantly dreaming of artistic escape and found herself twirling strands of her dark, honey blond, medium length hair around her finger as she daydreamed. She liked to have a good time, but understood the boundaries of what was in good taste and what wasn't. Her parents constantly scruinized her every mistake and so she spent a great deal of time just coming up with ways to impress them. She entered drawings in the community fairs and worked hard to gain first string on the track team. Her grades, too, were exceptional. However, she didn't exceed at everything; she had a secret that found its way to the front of her mind, way more than it should have. And she wasn't exactly brave enough to share.
Hanley Redding was Scarlette's cousin on her father's side. Scarlette's mom and Hanley's dad looked like twins. They both had round faces and pink cheeks and had the upper body strength of Paul Bunyan. Thank the lord that hadn't passed down to her or Scar. Hanley wasn't athletic at all but still maintained an almost Barbiedoll physic; instead she read quite a bit and played a mean piano. She could sing, as well, but didn't do it in front of anyone but Scarlette and the other girls on occassion. She listened to the other's problems with extreme, intent interest and was regarded, possibly, as the sweetest and most caring of the bunch. She wasn't afraid to share her problems either, and trusted her friends not to tell. There was only one thing that she hadn't disclosed, not to anyone, not even Scarlette, though she wanted desperately to tell her. It was about this new boy she had met, and his strange likeliness to a gorgeous, undead beast.
Persephone Shinks swam. Not on a team, but for fun, all around the bay and in the pool in her backyard. She was quiet and thoughtful and very shy. She didn't like to talk about things that bothered her and after the summer three years ago and the car accident that had killed her father, she found it easier to keep all of her problems inside rather than reveal them and blubber all over her friend's shoulder's. She lived with her mother and three younger siblings, who she often had to babysit. Her mother was intent on keeping the house and had since taken a time-consuming promotion to make extra money and afford her presitigous membership at the local country club. Persephone missed the time she used to be able to spend with her Mother but was grateful for her friends and for the small stretches of time in which she was submerged in the salty water below the dock, in her own underwater world. At least, that's what it seemed like- like Persephone lived beneath the waves and returned to land just to go to school and do normal teen things like having icecream at Carla's Cones on James' Pass and turning her chemistry papers in too late.
It was Cat Jennings however that kept all the girls from losing it. She was outgoing and fun, sweet and energetic and entiterly lovable. And though sometimes she made rash decisions and acted on instinct rather than logic in situations that required deliberation, the girls loved her unconditionally. She was a tad immature and flighty and goofy. She put her hair up in side-ways pony-tails and wore those half-shirts that looked stupid on all the rest of them (except maybe Zenna, if she ever deemed the article of clothing worthy of wearing), danced and sang along with practically any song that came on anywhere, without a shred of embarassment, and ate Twizzler's like they were the last thing on Earth. She couldn't keep a boyfriend longer than a week because they just couldn't keep up with her and she had absolutely no idea what she wanted to do with her life. But it didn't matter. Even though her outgoing, inane ideas landed the girls in hotwater on several occassions (such as last April's springbreak escape to Sea World with Cat's older brother Carlos which wound up getting them all drunk in a hotel room in Georgia and nearly ended all of their relationships after it got out they kind, sorta, all made out with the Swedish poolboy Borg, who pronounced all of their names wrong but looked really cute in a Speedo.) they all still seemed to love her the best. It was hard not to; she was just so...sweet.
Persephone laid on the wooden bench beside the cock-pit of the boat and fidgeted with the little seahorse necklace she had on. "Dolphins aren't that fond of boats," she heard herself saying. "I mean it's a huge machine and it makes a really loud noise and goes really fast. They're scared." She knew from personal experience that when she stayed still, underwater, the dolphins came much closer and seemed much more at ease. She'd even half way ridden one once, a few months ago. It had came up to her, nudged her shoulder and made a small clicking noise. The way they communicated fascinated Persephone and as much as she wanted to stay underwater with it and listen to its chirping forever, she knew she had to breach the surface for air soon. She'd started to wiggle her legs and cup the water with her hands, making her way back up to the surface when it slid between her legs and gave her a quick push up. It'd felt extraordinary as she ascended, ten times better than it ever felt when she'd taken horseback riding lessons in eighth grade.
"Oh!" Zenna squealed, pointing. "There!"
Scarlette who had been in the steering room with her slightly tipsy uncle and her aunt and younger cousin popped back out into the sunlight, adjusting the strings keeping her navy blue top from falling off of her pale shoulders. "Where?"
Hanley touched the railing and stretched her back to look behind the boat, to the left. There, crashing into the waves created by the boat, headed up towards the bow, were three shiny skinned dolphins, breaking the surface. Persephone had seen plenty of them but she still didn't want to let the chance of seeing a real group of them pass her by. For the most part, she'd only experienced loners, which she'd heard was rare, looking for a companion. They'd all approached her, curious by her ability to swim without goggles- the saltwater just didn't burn her eyes like it did everyone else- and hold her breath maybe just a little bit longer other people, and brush by her waist and let her touch their noses. These three looked excited to be alive; the way they constantly exposed their fins made Persephone think they were showing off.
Cat appeared beside Scarlette who, not expecting her entrance, jumped a little. The thin brunette laughed, her chocolate eyes reflecting the sun and sparkling with light. "Calm down Scar, I'm not going to hurt you."
Scarlette's heart always sped up when Cat was this close to her. It was part of her secret...the way Cat made Scarlette feel was not normal. She took too much interest in the way Cat's lips were shaped (her upper lip much more dipped than any of the others and her bottom lip full and pouting), or how long and shapely Cat's legs looked when she sat down and stretched them out before her. She liked Cat's smooth, sultry voice a little too much, and worried if the others knew that she had more pictures of Cat saved on the harddrive of her Teal netbook than any of the others in her Bestfriends Folder. But it was only part of the secret. The feelings weren't new. She's always felt this way.
"Oh," Scarlette said, chuckling, "I guess I forgot you were here or something."
Cat pretended to cry. "Way to make a girl feel noticed," she pouted.
Oh I notice you, Scarlette thought, pushing a strange of her hair off of her forehead, maybe a little TOO much. "You know what I mean," she told her, and stuck out her tongue.
The five of them stood in a single file line along the edge of the boat and watched the dolphins dance off into the sea. One of them jumped out the water, for a second, none of it's seemingly slippery body touching the waves. Even Zenna looked impressed for a moment, though that quickly faded and she went and sat on the bench Persephone had been laying on and texted her boyfriend.
It was common knowledge that Zenna and Harris were the it-couple, but Zenna had just told the others that she had practically fooled around with Ty Ulrich last Friday at the skanky-get-together they'd all attended. Harris however, knew nothing and Ty, who was intimidated by Harris's large, quarter-back shoulders bulging beneath his polos, had no intentions of telling him. Zenna didn't either. Sure she'd thought Ty was hot in this I-pluck-my-eyebrows-and-file-my-nails sort of way, but Harris, with is wavy blond hair and beryl eyes was the guy that every girl at Bayview High wanted to call theirs. Well every girl but Cat, Scarlette, Hanley and Persephone; they had a code- they couldn't covet or date one another's boyfriend. They had a lot of codes and they'd drawn up a list in their secret hiding place in seventh grade so they wouldn't forget them.
There was a clearing just inside the forest behind Cat's house where the girls often sat and discussed problems. Cat's house connected to the more grown over stretch of shore along the bay that bordered their neighborhood, so the clearing had a sandy floor and was made up of a wall of tall, hardy Queen Palms, and much shorter Areca Palms. The only thing that grew within the wall was a short, fernlike plant that thrived yearround and bloomed dark purple, almost lily-looking flowers at night. They called it the Lavender Lily, though none of them had been able to find any references to such a plant online growing in that area, or at all really, and didn't tell anyone about it, scared they would want to move it or, worse, pick the blooms and hurt it. Hanley was the first to find it, when, in the fall of their fifth grade year, they'd gone exploring into Cat's forest and found the area.
"Look!" she'd exclaimed, kneeling down beside it, "Isn't it pretty?"
They'd all agreed that it was the most beautiful flower any of them had ever seen, even more beautiful than the blood red roses that Scarlette's mother grew in her front lawn, or the pale yellow daisys that Persephone's first boyfriend, Jameson, who had moved away to Kentucky a month before, had bought her on Valentine's day. Hanley deemed it their goodluck flower and they buzzed with excitement over the discovery of it, and their new hangout.
The list of codes they'd come up with two years later spoke of not stealing each other's boyfriends, taking proper precautions not to get pregnant like that skank Julia in eighth grade had done, promising not to let each other get fat or fail algebra, and swearing to each other that if ever they had a secret to share, they'd do it there, in that clearing, beneath the palm fronds and in absolute confidence that it wouldn't leave that stretch of turf.
Hanley had a secret that she'd been needing to tell the others for a long time now. It wasn't incredibly juicy but she had a feeling (and hope) that it could get that way. It was about a boy. His name was Remington- no last name, or at least he didn't disclose one- and he was devilishly good looking. His hair was as black and shiny as ebony and his eyes were an entrancing shade of navy. Not only did he appear to be chiseled out of granite, but he was tall, very nicely built and had this michevious grin that made Hanley weak with lust. He'd come sauntering into her life at the beginning of May.
She remembered it with such detail that more than once she worried if she'd just envisioned it and it hadn't happened at all. That was, until, she'd gotten his note. When she met him, she was sitting outside, finishing "The Chosen" by Potak, getting a start on her summer reading list for Honor's English Three. It was dusk, and bugs had began to bounce against the porch light above her head. She heard him first, making his way through the forest, but she hadn't taken much interest. A lot of her neighbors had dogs and cats and they were so often getting free and roaming the streets and everyone's backyards that she was sure that it was just the Patterson's hyperactive scottish terrier or one of the Lawson's malteese's that she didn't even look up from her book. Not until he spoke, anyways.
His voice was so smooth and his accent was so fluent, "Hey, Girly," he said, the words floating up her yard to her, as she lounged in the lawn chair, "Come here a minute, would you?"
Sure, it startled her, but as soon as she'd whipped her head around and saw him standing there, at the end of her yard, one hand on the trunk of a tree, the other motioning her towards him, she was enchanted. She placed her plastic Harry Potter bookmark between the pages of her novel, laid it on the table and drifted down to him.
"Yes?" her voice almost seemed a plead, begging for him to speak more.
His eyes bore into her and replied, "Could you, perhaps, tell me how to get to Kennar?"
Kennar was two cities east of T-town and pretty unsettled as far civilization in Florida went.
"Oh," she said, "Yes. Just go back out through there," she pointed down the side of her yard up towards the road, "Follow the road to the highway and the streetsigns will take you East, through Lorncaster and into Kennar."
He nodded, polite. "Thank you very much," and bent forward, placing a kiss on her cheek. His lips were icy and left her skin tingling. She placed her fingertips to the place he'd kissed and looked down at her flip-flops, blushing. It wasn't normally like her to be so blundering, but he was just so CUTE.
"I'm just passing through," the stranger explained. "And I appreciate your help. I'm Remington."
Hanley smiled at him, wondering what it was that made her trust him so quickly, and not worry that he wore all black- a tight-fitting black t-shirt and black jeans and boots- and stood in her yard, after the sun had gown down. "I'm Hanley," she said.
Remington gave her another magical smile and said, "That's a pretty name. Hanley," he repeated, trying it out with his Northern accent. "Very pretty."
A noise had caught her attention and she thought it had been her parents. Her heart raced, and she was unsure what to do- she felt safe with this guy, but her parents, no doubt, would not understand her instant trust. "My parents," she mouthed, turning back around. But he was gone.
Three and a half weeks had gone by, leaving her dreaming of his eyes, and formulating a myriad of reasons why he was sneaking down her block trying to get to Kennar- on foot, no less- and wishing he'd make another appearance just to answer some of her questions, before she saw the little white piece of paper sticking out of the curling bark of the same tree he had touched that first night. She got it, curious, and unfolded it.
"Stopped by to see your beautiful face," the note said, written in carefully scripted cursive, "sorry I missed you. Hope to see you soon, Hanley." And it was signed with an elaborate R. She'd refrained from telling the other's about their meeting, almost postive she'd just dreamt the whole thing, but now she knew it'd been real, and she desperately wanted the other's opinion on who (or what) he was.
The thing was, his confusing existance also provided another problem- Hanley had a boyfriend.
Now she stood beside Cat who stood beside Scarlette, who looked a little frazzled, like she always did when Cat was near her, and read the three texts she'd gotten since they'd boarded the boat an hour ago. Tory Wilson was cute in his own dorky way, with close cropped, sandy brown hair and normal, crayola crayon, green eyes. He played baseball just like her little brother Chipper and joked around too much but she loved him. He'd asked her out last year after the Spring formal and they'd been going steady ever since. He was the shoulder that ever girl wanted to cry on, and the guy that every mother wanted to find out their daughter was dating. He was polite, charming and ate all his vegetables. Never in a million years did Hanley consider him lacking in any way, whatsoever. Until Remington. Remington was everything Tory wasn't; he was mysterious and sexy instead of open and boyishly good-looking, he was pale and had the most intriguing accent. Tory had a tan that dipped down into the the v-neck of his baseball jersey and said things like "I reckon that'd be fun" when she invited him out somewhere and "Oh Boy!" when her mother made mashed potatos. In no way did Hanley dislike any of those things about him...but she couldn't help but imagine what Remington would say instead in such situations. She'd only spoken to him for five minutes, at that, and already he was her favorite thing to think about.
"Anything interesting?" Cat asking, motioning to Hanley's phone. "Tory missing you?"
Hanley nodded and read the first text: "Hey Babe, have a good time on your boat ride. Tell the girls hello!" She read, the second one: "Just Paramore's new video and thought of you." She read the last one: "I miss you."
Scarlette said, "Aww," and looked genuinly impressed. "He is such a Sweetheart. It's hard to find a guy like that. I'm lucky if Leslie remembers to text me all day. I swear he's only dating me because I help him in English."
Cat shoves her playfully. "C'mon, he adores you. You're the only person he talks about more than himself."
Leslie Fissure was the wide reciever for the Bayview Barracudas and sported a head full of black curls and a set of stunning amber eyes. Yes, he was sort of narcissistic and kind of pigheaded when it came to sports, but overall he was nice guy and had a soft spot for Scarlette, at least. Sometimes he would even tell her she was pretty, or buy her flowers to say it for him. Unfortunately, Scarlette wasn't as into him as she wished she was. She knew he was gorgeous and hot and she noticed the way the other girls in her grade looked at him when he met her outside her classes, but she didn't feel any particular spark. And lately, he'd began to bring up the subject of taking-it-all-the-way and, honestly, the idea kind of made her feel sick.
Cat's last boyfriend had been one of her older brother Carlos' college buddies named Redmond, though everyone called him Red. They lasted nine days and then he tried to have sex with her in the back of his Blazer after a movie one night and she told him that she'd sooner die a virgin than lose her virginity behind Cinemas' Eight on a Wednesday night. None of the girls blamed her. Red was good looking in a tall, maybe a little too boney way, but he totally wasn't worth THAT.
Truth was, all the girls were virgins. Zenna had fooled around a few times with different guys but the threat of teen pregnancy scared all of them enough to keep their pants zipped until the right guy (with the right condomn) came along. And truth was they had too much on their plates right now to think about anything that life altering. Zenna had told the girls about her fling with Ty, but not about her make-out session just two days ago with Carlos. Persephone had started taking a stop-watch with her when she went swimming and just recently she'd clocked herself at able to hold her breath for a whopping twelve minutes (that wasn't normal AT ALL). Hanley distinctly remembered Remington's canines and actually considered the fact that he wasn't, you know, exactly human. Scarlette recognized the fact that she had a huge crush on her friend, but couldn't exactly share that with the group. And Cat herself was beginning to have feelings that none of them were normal. Least of all, her.
XXX
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Friday, December 16, 2011
Coming Soon [Poetry]
Coming Soon.
to express how I feel-
there is a candle and there is a flame
I am neither
I am the wick
between passion and pain
love is explicit
and exploitation is abundant
I am tired and dry
yet I remain hers and she remains his
so nothing is really mine
I am implurable and sultry
but my sex appeal does not offer hope
because I know in the end when she leaves me
i'll be reduced to nothing but a burning rope.
to express how I feel-
there is a candle and there is a flame
I am neither
I am the wick
between passion and pain
love is explicit
and exploitation is abundant
I am tired and dry
yet I remain hers and she remains his
so nothing is really mine
I am implurable and sultry
but my sex appeal does not offer hope
because I know in the end when she leaves me
i'll be reduced to nothing but a burning rope.
Exit Key [Poetry]
[sorry for the bad language]
so now you've given me definition
i have this horrible love sick condition
i've fallen in love with you so fast
that you're just so damn sure that it won't last
i'm sworn into the office of your eternal worship
by making shows of love that just aren't worth it
you're shoved up the ass of that stupid bastard
who only says he loves you when he's totally plastered
you've decided that i will never walk away
that my undying affection is some sick buffet
and maybe i don't have that kind of power
and maybe i feel like without you i'll flounder
and maybe fucking you makes me feel alive
and your touch sets me on fire inside
but don't stand there and pretend like i'm tamed
like i was a lost possession and now i've been claimed
i have a life beyond your embrace
i dream of more than just the contours of your face
i have dreams and shit and i want more
i don't lie in wait for you to knock on my door
what pisses me off the very most
is that you allow your boyfriend to boast
like he alone gets to see you naked
like when you have sex you don't fake it
like you haven't told me that i'm the one you desire
like you told him he's the one you require
i'm not proud of what i feel
that you've trampled me and i want you still
i'm not okay with my unconditional affection
because it just feels like a useless obsession
so i think that it is time for this to end
so that i can actually have space to mend
so fuck you and you're indecisiveness
you've made a warrior out of a pacifist
i get so angry when i make you cry
because i know it's just another lie
you're crying because you are weak
you say you care much more than i think
but i am aware that is nothing but bullshit
you're just upset that i don't find you worth it
but how can i compete with heterosexuality?
people like me strive to survive, actually
and when a girl is with a girl who's with a guy
and she says she'll leave him- it's always a lie
you never had any intention for cessation
you provided his loves continual incubation
i'm sure that you'll figure out that you're my soul mate
but the realization of it will simply be too late
so i'm meant to grow old by your side
that's just too damn bad. it's over. goodbye.
so now you've given me definition
i have this horrible love sick condition
i've fallen in love with you so fast
that you're just so damn sure that it won't last
i'm sworn into the office of your eternal worship
by making shows of love that just aren't worth it
you're shoved up the ass of that stupid bastard
who only says he loves you when he's totally plastered
you've decided that i will never walk away
that my undying affection is some sick buffet
and maybe i don't have that kind of power
and maybe i feel like without you i'll flounder
and maybe fucking you makes me feel alive
and your touch sets me on fire inside
but don't stand there and pretend like i'm tamed
like i was a lost possession and now i've been claimed
i have a life beyond your embrace
i dream of more than just the contours of your face
i have dreams and shit and i want more
i don't lie in wait for you to knock on my door
what pisses me off the very most
is that you allow your boyfriend to boast
like he alone gets to see you naked
like when you have sex you don't fake it
like you haven't told me that i'm the one you desire
like you told him he's the one you require
i'm not proud of what i feel
that you've trampled me and i want you still
i'm not okay with my unconditional affection
because it just feels like a useless obsession
so i think that it is time for this to end
so that i can actually have space to mend
so fuck you and you're indecisiveness
you've made a warrior out of a pacifist
i get so angry when i make you cry
because i know it's just another lie
you're crying because you are weak
you say you care much more than i think
but i am aware that is nothing but bullshit
you're just upset that i don't find you worth it
but how can i compete with heterosexuality?
people like me strive to survive, actually
and when a girl is with a girl who's with a guy
and she says she'll leave him- it's always a lie
you never had any intention for cessation
you provided his loves continual incubation
i'm sure that you'll figure out that you're my soul mate
but the realization of it will simply be too late
so i'm meant to grow old by your side
that's just too damn bad. it's over. goodbye.
From Here [Excerpt]
I wasn't attracted to her because she was beautiful- well that wasn't the only reason. I think the very first thing I noticed about her was her length. She seemed to go on forever. She was extraordinarily long, tall, thin... And yet there was nothing awkward about her. She was gorgeous. Graceful too, moving with practiced elegance and poise, almost as if she was a dancer and not a poet. But she wasn't graceful like a swan. As light as she looked, I didn't imagine her extending her wings and flying away. She was grounded. And dark. Not her skin, because it was much paler than mine, but her hair and her eyes and her clothes and the words she spoke that very first night. She was heavy, I guess and her poignant portrayal of a graceful creature trappped in the bounds of a heavy darkness had me drawn to her.
It wasn't love at first sight. I could never be that cliche. Besides, there wasn't anything about her that I loved. I think I almost pitied the sadness in her eyes, or how she folded her piano-player's fingers around the microphone and leaned in to read her poem. She almost appeared tortured in this muted, teenage way. She looked about seventeen too, so I guess it really fit. I found out later that was actually a year older than me, but she still seemed adolescent in her art.
But I was attracted to her. I hit me hard me too, the attraction. She was only the second girl I'd ever felt this for. Oh the things I imagined doing to her while she was standing on stage. Nothing too perverse, but it wasn't innocent admiration. I don't know, it seemed like for a moment, when the room was quiet and we waited those few seconds between her name being announced and her voice filling the silence with literary devices, every molecule in my body wanted to combine with hers. She was wearing this short, black dress with one strap and the strap was falling down her shoulder and although she was pretty flat-chested, the dress gave the illusion of cleavage and it was obvious that she had a nice ass she was just...really, really pretty. When she spoke I watched her lips move and I imagined what it would be like to kiss her. It feels funny to admit that here, but yes, that was a thought that passed through my mind while she read.
I didn't have a date that night but I'd sat down at a table with a guy I'd seen before and pretended like I wasn't totally awkward and unlovable. I remember I leaned over to him when she made her appearance and asked, "Okay, who is that?"
He wasn't paying attention, but instead running the tip of his index finger around his coffee cup and checking his facebook on his iphone. He turned his head to me but kept his eyes on his phone and said, "Who?"
I pointed, casually. "Her."
He looked. "Oh. Um, she read a few nights ago. You weren't here. Her name is Jack or Jackie or Jacqueline, or something. She's totally hot, but I think she's emo or something."
Jack's poem was about a boats and water and love and clouds. I wasn't focusing on the words. I'm sure it was a really good poem because everyone clapped afterwards, but I was much too distracted by the woman reading the poem to actually pay any attention to what it meant. Embarissingly enough, my heart actually started to beat a little faster as I listened. I wanted her to look at me. Of course she didn't. She kept her eyes on the piece of paper in front of her and remained focused on the lines of text. But I wanted her to look at me. The entire performance took about four minutes and then she nodded at us and turned and stepped down from the raise stage and walked back to her seat.
She didn't know me from Eve. I mean, I'd never even seen the girl before then and I was almost positive she didn't even know I was there. But I was intent on introducing myself and telling her who I was and deciphering exactly what sort of force was making me crazy over her. The guy at my table, Daniel, got up to read and in the hub-bub of him standing up and sliding behind me to make his way up front, I lost sight of her. When I looked back she wasn't siting at her table anymore and I decided I'd lost my chance and listening to Daniel talk about shopping carts and empty aisles.
Poetry night, every Tuesday at Porcelain Doll's Coffee House was one of the only things I looked forward to. My life wasn't glamorous. I worked at a used record store that smelled like peporoni all the time due to it's proximity to a particularly smelly Subway and lived on the thirty-second floor of an apartment outside New York's City's city-limits.
I wasn't in a very good place mentally. I was living an extremely repetitive pattern and even though most of what people shared at Poetry Night was cliche and cheesy and kind of, sort of dumb, I liked it. I mean, I didn't attend the get togethers so that I could experience this grand talent...I was happy just to be reminded that there were people that had far more complicated lives than mine.
I moved to New York City the summer after high school graduation. And I moved because I was in love with my best friend. It wasn't a spontaneous decision either. I knew that if the feelings we're requited by graduation, I had to get away before I spent my life pining and eventually withered away into nothing but a bitter being lacking the ability to be happy. Maybe I was too late. Maybe I was already bitter. Maybe, maybe not. All I know is when I saw Jacqueline I was very aware of my want to be fulfilled.
I wasn't innocent by any means, but I considered myself generically good-natured. I was pretty, too, I guess, or at least that's what men told me. Some even called me stunning with my tan skin, my wavy, chocolate hair, my deep ivy-colored irises. But I wasn't. I could dress up and look the part, act the part, make people believe it to be so. I had the ability to cake on the charm and I knew that if I over pronunciated my vowels just so my tongue would touch my lips when I spoke, I could drive a man wild. I knew just the shoes to wear to make my legs look longer and make my ass look bigger and I was just as good at putting lip gloss on my lips as I was at purposely touching a man's arm to make him think I was interested when I was really just wanted some attention. But I wasn't stunning. Sometimes it was all too obvious when I looked in the mirror and pulled and wrinkles that just suddently showed up on day and crawled out of the corners of my eyes, that I couldn't even to begin considering myself stunning. I was mediocre at most.
I guess I'd never really had the greatest self esteem. I grew up comparing myself to my gorgeous, pagent winning mother and my well-endowed, creamy-skinned, veluptuous, blond best friend. I knew people thought I was cute. But being cute next to my mother and Verena Mozart was like being a firecracker next to crate of dynomite.
You see, Verena was the love of my life. She was my best friend, my neighbor, my science partner, my confidant, my shoulder to cry on...She was the reason I got up in the morning. She's the force that kept me going. When I felt hopeless and beaten down, she was the one that held me and told me to get back up and keep going because I was amazing and she was going to kick my ass if I gave up now. I met her when I was twelve and she moved to Buckeye, Maine from some place in New Hampshire. We borrowed each others clothes, slept in each other's beds and as we matured, I developed feelings for her. very real, very intense feelings. And I'm not gay. I know that's a stupid thing to say considering what I've just admited. But, I mean, it was just her. Yes, I was in love with her. Absolutely, unequivocably in love with her. But...I didn't consider what that meant. Because, well, I just thought it was Verena. I just thought it was her and she was the reason I felt that way. I'd read about people being pansexual and I thought, Okay, maybe I'm just in love with her as a person and it doesn't matter what gender she is, and that doesn't make me gay...it just makes me... I don't know. I didn't have a word for it. I couldn't come up with reasons and I couldn't justify the way I felt because I couldn't even understand it most of the time anyways.
But essentially that's why I ran.
Verena Mozart turned eighteen the December of my senior year of high school, shortly before I followed that January. A month my elder but an entire lifetime my predessesor. Everyone wanted to be her and if she hadn't been so damn sweet I'm sure people would have killed to be in her place. Not only was she a sight, she was also powerfully polite, dilligently driven, stunningly selfless and radically romantic. She sported naturally white-blond hair, powder blue eyes and the smoothest, most St. Ive'sy skin I'd ever seen stretched over a body. And everyone just thanked their lucky gods that for some blessed reason, Verena was bisexual and so she wasn't off limits to any gender. Just to me. Because, I was past her boundaries. I was too far in to see the whole picture and when she referred to me as her sister my heart just plumeted into my stomach.
While simultaneously breaking my heart, she was also keeping me together. We had this thing where she would come over before she went on a date and give me a present. She'd go "I'll be home later Beautiful. This is for you."
It always went the same way. I'd be sitting on my bed with my mouth kind of drooping on one side, thinking about her with someone else and she'd appear at my side and wrap her arms around me and kiss my temple. She say something absoluetly adorable like, "Why so glum Gummy-Bear?" And I'd just sigh and give her my big, watery, brown eyes.
"Don't look at me like that," she'd say and shove me, playfully, "I'll be thinking about you the entire time."
The presents were usually stuffed animals or flowers. I'd go, "You don't have to buy me something everytime you go on a date. It's not like I'm some shallow desperate thing that needs material things to remain happy."
She'd chuckle and say, "Pish posh," or "Rubbish," or "Nonsense," and then tell me that she didn't buy the things, she'd stole them and her eternal love for me had turned her into a hardended criminal and I should be grateful that she was on my side so when the time came I could be the Thelma to her Louise or the Bonnie to her Clyde or something just as ridiculous.
I'd laugh, of course and roll my eyes. "You just have horrible taste in dates," I'd say, surrendering to her peristant, pathetic pouts. "Seriously."
She's squeeze my shoulder or tackle me onto the floor and remind me that she'd chosen to sit beside me at lunch that fateful day in the cafeteria and I'd remind her that it wouldn't have mattered anyway because her family moved next door to my family and we were destined to know each other anyways. This was a trap and she'd go "See?" and leave me unable to argue.
I hated it when she went on dates. But, though it happened regularly, she never had a boyfriend, or a girlfriend longer than a week. It always ended the same way. It would boil down time. She chose me to hang out with over them and they'd get jealous and she'd go, "Listen, you're really amazing but I'm loyal to Jod, and if you're not okay with that, we can't be together." They were never okay with that.
It was loyalty that really did me in. Verena was...Well, she was the only one in ther world that mattered to me. I had other friends, sure, and I genearlly loved my mother, although we barely got along and I avoided her a large percentage of the time. But Verena was "the one". I swear, if she had asked me to, I don't know, set our high school on fire, I would have done it. I would have went to the 711 off our main road, bought some matches and some gasoline and just went right to work. I was that devoted to her. I lost sight of what life had been before she carried her Powerpuff Girl's lunchbox over to me and said, "Hey, can I sit here?" I decided, quickly, that life hadn't existed before she came along and it wouldn't if she ever left. Our live's just simply entertwined. Everyday after school I'd trudge over to her house, rummage through her closet, put something "trendy" on and follow her out, behind our family's property to these two, smooth rocks and we'd sit, dangling our feet above the chalky water.
She'd doodle on a drawing pad, and sketch different poses of me from various angles, trying to get the shading right. Among everything, she was an artist. Senior year the varisty girls finally persuaded Verena to try out for the cheerleading squad. She begged me to join her, but my deeply rooted hatred for cheerleading only allowed me to attend the games and watch her jump around in a short skirt with pom-poms and remain convinced that she was so out of my league it was comical. Because with the cheerleading came a long string of courting football players and one love sick cheerleader that just begged to take her to prom. Verena actually quit cheerleading so she could focus on making the decorations for prom, that she ended up being the queen of. We went together and she bought me a corsage and danced with me. This guy she used to date named Tony Jameson won the king's crown. Everyone decided that Verena was much more of king than he was and there was this comical overthrow where a group of our class surrounded Tony and took the crown and placed it on Verena's head. The theme was Midnight in Paris as voted on by the Student Council and so she had this long silver gown on and with the crown she was almost a dead ringer for the statue of liberty. She pulled me out of the audience and awarded me with the Queen's crown and we paraded around the rest of the night acting foolish and teasing Tony, who wasn't too beat up by the issue after Verena kissed him as a cosolation prize.
Anyways she did this huge mural for prom on a gargantuan piece of canvas of the Paris skyline and it was so beautiful that the art teacher submitted it to this artfair and it won. Verena's mother Loraine owned the local artisan center off the rocks and they framed Verena's mural when prom was over and hung it over the check out counter, beneath the high vaulted ceilings. Standing in the lobby, looking up at the painted buildings and richly colored sky I made my decision to leave. I thought, someone that could create something that beautiful could hang the moon and someone that could hang the moon didn't need someone like me holding onto their feet, keeping them from flying.
It all comes back to poetry. I didn't tell her goodbye. I wrote a sonnet and handed it to my mother. I said, "Mother, this town is small and quirky but I don't want to grow old without having lived in the big city."
She returned with, "You're just going to leave then?"
I nodded. "I'm moving to New York and getting a real grasp on high paced life a cultural melting pot."
She wanted to know how I was going to pay for it and I revealed the five thousand I'd been saving for community college and she shook her head and told me to let her know right away my new address so she could wire me some money if I needed it. I said it wouldn't be necessary, that I was getting a job the instant I got settled and thanks for having faith in your daughter. She wanted to know what the letter was and I told her it was for Verena and not to read it because she wouldn't understand the metaphors anyways and it would be nice if she respected my privacy for once.
Ironically enough, this is the poem that I chose to read the night I met Jack. I was two people after Daniel and I got up, carried my sheet of computer paper up to the mike and I read,
"The hardest part of anything is the beginning
Or in this case, and ending to simplify goodbye
So, V is for vertigo and how you keep my head spinning
And E is for escaping without telling you why
R is a letter to signify the rational thought I lack
Another E for entropy as I fall apart at my seams
N represents nothing because without you I have jack
And A is for absolution that meets me even in my dreams
I don't want to come out and admit how I feel
Just understand that me leaving you has to be done
Because love is but passion and a solving of wills
and it's easier to end something that has never begun
I think one day you would have pulled me onto the shore
I never want to be your damsel; I wanted to be your world."
It wasn't love at first sight. I could never be that cliche. Besides, there wasn't anything about her that I loved. I think I almost pitied the sadness in her eyes, or how she folded her piano-player's fingers around the microphone and leaned in to read her poem. She almost appeared tortured in this muted, teenage way. She looked about seventeen too, so I guess it really fit. I found out later that was actually a year older than me, but she still seemed adolescent in her art.
But I was attracted to her. I hit me hard me too, the attraction. She was only the second girl I'd ever felt this for. Oh the things I imagined doing to her while she was standing on stage. Nothing too perverse, but it wasn't innocent admiration. I don't know, it seemed like for a moment, when the room was quiet and we waited those few seconds between her name being announced and her voice filling the silence with literary devices, every molecule in my body wanted to combine with hers. She was wearing this short, black dress with one strap and the strap was falling down her shoulder and although she was pretty flat-chested, the dress gave the illusion of cleavage and it was obvious that she had a nice ass she was just...really, really pretty. When she spoke I watched her lips move and I imagined what it would be like to kiss her. It feels funny to admit that here, but yes, that was a thought that passed through my mind while she read.
I didn't have a date that night but I'd sat down at a table with a guy I'd seen before and pretended like I wasn't totally awkward and unlovable. I remember I leaned over to him when she made her appearance and asked, "Okay, who is that?"
He wasn't paying attention, but instead running the tip of his index finger around his coffee cup and checking his facebook on his iphone. He turned his head to me but kept his eyes on his phone and said, "Who?"
I pointed, casually. "Her."
He looked. "Oh. Um, she read a few nights ago. You weren't here. Her name is Jack or Jackie or Jacqueline, or something. She's totally hot, but I think she's emo or something."
Jack's poem was about a boats and water and love and clouds. I wasn't focusing on the words. I'm sure it was a really good poem because everyone clapped afterwards, but I was much too distracted by the woman reading the poem to actually pay any attention to what it meant. Embarissingly enough, my heart actually started to beat a little faster as I listened. I wanted her to look at me. Of course she didn't. She kept her eyes on the piece of paper in front of her and remained focused on the lines of text. But I wanted her to look at me. The entire performance took about four minutes and then she nodded at us and turned and stepped down from the raise stage and walked back to her seat.
She didn't know me from Eve. I mean, I'd never even seen the girl before then and I was almost positive she didn't even know I was there. But I was intent on introducing myself and telling her who I was and deciphering exactly what sort of force was making me crazy over her. The guy at my table, Daniel, got up to read and in the hub-bub of him standing up and sliding behind me to make his way up front, I lost sight of her. When I looked back she wasn't siting at her table anymore and I decided I'd lost my chance and listening to Daniel talk about shopping carts and empty aisles.
Poetry night, every Tuesday at Porcelain Doll's Coffee House was one of the only things I looked forward to. My life wasn't glamorous. I worked at a used record store that smelled like peporoni all the time due to it's proximity to a particularly smelly Subway and lived on the thirty-second floor of an apartment outside New York's City's city-limits.
I wasn't in a very good place mentally. I was living an extremely repetitive pattern and even though most of what people shared at Poetry Night was cliche and cheesy and kind of, sort of dumb, I liked it. I mean, I didn't attend the get togethers so that I could experience this grand talent...I was happy just to be reminded that there were people that had far more complicated lives than mine.
I moved to New York City the summer after high school graduation. And I moved because I was in love with my best friend. It wasn't a spontaneous decision either. I knew that if the feelings we're requited by graduation, I had to get away before I spent my life pining and eventually withered away into nothing but a bitter being lacking the ability to be happy. Maybe I was too late. Maybe I was already bitter. Maybe, maybe not. All I know is when I saw Jacqueline I was very aware of my want to be fulfilled.
I wasn't innocent by any means, but I considered myself generically good-natured. I was pretty, too, I guess, or at least that's what men told me. Some even called me stunning with my tan skin, my wavy, chocolate hair, my deep ivy-colored irises. But I wasn't. I could dress up and look the part, act the part, make people believe it to be so. I had the ability to cake on the charm and I knew that if I over pronunciated my vowels just so my tongue would touch my lips when I spoke, I could drive a man wild. I knew just the shoes to wear to make my legs look longer and make my ass look bigger and I was just as good at putting lip gloss on my lips as I was at purposely touching a man's arm to make him think I was interested when I was really just wanted some attention. But I wasn't stunning. Sometimes it was all too obvious when I looked in the mirror and pulled and wrinkles that just suddently showed up on day and crawled out of the corners of my eyes, that I couldn't even to begin considering myself stunning. I was mediocre at most.
I guess I'd never really had the greatest self esteem. I grew up comparing myself to my gorgeous, pagent winning mother and my well-endowed, creamy-skinned, veluptuous, blond best friend. I knew people thought I was cute. But being cute next to my mother and Verena Mozart was like being a firecracker next to crate of dynomite.
You see, Verena was the love of my life. She was my best friend, my neighbor, my science partner, my confidant, my shoulder to cry on...She was the reason I got up in the morning. She's the force that kept me going. When I felt hopeless and beaten down, she was the one that held me and told me to get back up and keep going because I was amazing and she was going to kick my ass if I gave up now. I met her when I was twelve and she moved to Buckeye, Maine from some place in New Hampshire. We borrowed each others clothes, slept in each other's beds and as we matured, I developed feelings for her. very real, very intense feelings. And I'm not gay. I know that's a stupid thing to say considering what I've just admited. But, I mean, it was just her. Yes, I was in love with her. Absolutely, unequivocably in love with her. But...I didn't consider what that meant. Because, well, I just thought it was Verena. I just thought it was her and she was the reason I felt that way. I'd read about people being pansexual and I thought, Okay, maybe I'm just in love with her as a person and it doesn't matter what gender she is, and that doesn't make me gay...it just makes me... I don't know. I didn't have a word for it. I couldn't come up with reasons and I couldn't justify the way I felt because I couldn't even understand it most of the time anyways.
But essentially that's why I ran.
Verena Mozart turned eighteen the December of my senior year of high school, shortly before I followed that January. A month my elder but an entire lifetime my predessesor. Everyone wanted to be her and if she hadn't been so damn sweet I'm sure people would have killed to be in her place. Not only was she a sight, she was also powerfully polite, dilligently driven, stunningly selfless and radically romantic. She sported naturally white-blond hair, powder blue eyes and the smoothest, most St. Ive'sy skin I'd ever seen stretched over a body. And everyone just thanked their lucky gods that for some blessed reason, Verena was bisexual and so she wasn't off limits to any gender. Just to me. Because, I was past her boundaries. I was too far in to see the whole picture and when she referred to me as her sister my heart just plumeted into my stomach.
While simultaneously breaking my heart, she was also keeping me together. We had this thing where she would come over before she went on a date and give me a present. She'd go "I'll be home later Beautiful. This is for you."
It always went the same way. I'd be sitting on my bed with my mouth kind of drooping on one side, thinking about her with someone else and she'd appear at my side and wrap her arms around me and kiss my temple. She say something absoluetly adorable like, "Why so glum Gummy-Bear?" And I'd just sigh and give her my big, watery, brown eyes.
"Don't look at me like that," she'd say and shove me, playfully, "I'll be thinking about you the entire time."
The presents were usually stuffed animals or flowers. I'd go, "You don't have to buy me something everytime you go on a date. It's not like I'm some shallow desperate thing that needs material things to remain happy."
She'd chuckle and say, "Pish posh," or "Rubbish," or "Nonsense," and then tell me that she didn't buy the things, she'd stole them and her eternal love for me had turned her into a hardended criminal and I should be grateful that she was on my side so when the time came I could be the Thelma to her Louise or the Bonnie to her Clyde or something just as ridiculous.
I'd laugh, of course and roll my eyes. "You just have horrible taste in dates," I'd say, surrendering to her peristant, pathetic pouts. "Seriously."
She's squeeze my shoulder or tackle me onto the floor and remind me that she'd chosen to sit beside me at lunch that fateful day in the cafeteria and I'd remind her that it wouldn't have mattered anyway because her family moved next door to my family and we were destined to know each other anyways. This was a trap and she'd go "See?" and leave me unable to argue.
I hated it when she went on dates. But, though it happened regularly, she never had a boyfriend, or a girlfriend longer than a week. It always ended the same way. It would boil down time. She chose me to hang out with over them and they'd get jealous and she'd go, "Listen, you're really amazing but I'm loyal to Jod, and if you're not okay with that, we can't be together." They were never okay with that.
It was loyalty that really did me in. Verena was...Well, she was the only one in ther world that mattered to me. I had other friends, sure, and I genearlly loved my mother, although we barely got along and I avoided her a large percentage of the time. But Verena was "the one". I swear, if she had asked me to, I don't know, set our high school on fire, I would have done it. I would have went to the 711 off our main road, bought some matches and some gasoline and just went right to work. I was that devoted to her. I lost sight of what life had been before she carried her Powerpuff Girl's lunchbox over to me and said, "Hey, can I sit here?" I decided, quickly, that life hadn't existed before she came along and it wouldn't if she ever left. Our live's just simply entertwined. Everyday after school I'd trudge over to her house, rummage through her closet, put something "trendy" on and follow her out, behind our family's property to these two, smooth rocks and we'd sit, dangling our feet above the chalky water.
She'd doodle on a drawing pad, and sketch different poses of me from various angles, trying to get the shading right. Among everything, she was an artist. Senior year the varisty girls finally persuaded Verena to try out for the cheerleading squad. She begged me to join her, but my deeply rooted hatred for cheerleading only allowed me to attend the games and watch her jump around in a short skirt with pom-poms and remain convinced that she was so out of my league it was comical. Because with the cheerleading came a long string of courting football players and one love sick cheerleader that just begged to take her to prom. Verena actually quit cheerleading so she could focus on making the decorations for prom, that she ended up being the queen of. We went together and she bought me a corsage and danced with me. This guy she used to date named Tony Jameson won the king's crown. Everyone decided that Verena was much more of king than he was and there was this comical overthrow where a group of our class surrounded Tony and took the crown and placed it on Verena's head. The theme was Midnight in Paris as voted on by the Student Council and so she had this long silver gown on and with the crown she was almost a dead ringer for the statue of liberty. She pulled me out of the audience and awarded me with the Queen's crown and we paraded around the rest of the night acting foolish and teasing Tony, who wasn't too beat up by the issue after Verena kissed him as a cosolation prize.
Anyways she did this huge mural for prom on a gargantuan piece of canvas of the Paris skyline and it was so beautiful that the art teacher submitted it to this artfair and it won. Verena's mother Loraine owned the local artisan center off the rocks and they framed Verena's mural when prom was over and hung it over the check out counter, beneath the high vaulted ceilings. Standing in the lobby, looking up at the painted buildings and richly colored sky I made my decision to leave. I thought, someone that could create something that beautiful could hang the moon and someone that could hang the moon didn't need someone like me holding onto their feet, keeping them from flying.
It all comes back to poetry. I didn't tell her goodbye. I wrote a sonnet and handed it to my mother. I said, "Mother, this town is small and quirky but I don't want to grow old without having lived in the big city."
She returned with, "You're just going to leave then?"
I nodded. "I'm moving to New York and getting a real grasp on high paced life a cultural melting pot."
She wanted to know how I was going to pay for it and I revealed the five thousand I'd been saving for community college and she shook her head and told me to let her know right away my new address so she could wire me some money if I needed it. I said it wouldn't be necessary, that I was getting a job the instant I got settled and thanks for having faith in your daughter. She wanted to know what the letter was and I told her it was for Verena and not to read it because she wouldn't understand the metaphors anyways and it would be nice if she respected my privacy for once.
Ironically enough, this is the poem that I chose to read the night I met Jack. I was two people after Daniel and I got up, carried my sheet of computer paper up to the mike and I read,
"The hardest part of anything is the beginning
Or in this case, and ending to simplify goodbye
So, V is for vertigo and how you keep my head spinning
And E is for escaping without telling you why
R is a letter to signify the rational thought I lack
Another E for entropy as I fall apart at my seams
N represents nothing because without you I have jack
And A is for absolution that meets me even in my dreams
I don't want to come out and admit how I feel
Just understand that me leaving you has to be done
Because love is but passion and a solving of wills
and it's easier to end something that has never begun
I think one day you would have pulled me onto the shore
I never want to be your damsel; I wanted to be your world."
Beekeeper [Short Story]
The wind whistled through the trees as she walked, wafted really, through the tall, seeding grass. She met the girl in the center of the field, where the ground bellied up to create a mound, and the grass gave way to dirt and rock.
"Do you know who I am?" she said.
The girl shook her head, one hand on her shoulder, the other flat against her side. She didn't speak, just waited for the woman to explain her prescence.
"Don't be afraid," the woman said. "Take my hand."
The breeze tousled the teenager's hair and she put her hands on the back of her neck and gave the other woman a steady look. "Where are we going?"
"I can't tell you a specific place," was her answer. "Someplace. Somewhere."
The teenager frowned. "Can't you tell me? I can't stay all day. I have to get back. There's people waiting and I have things planned for today."
"It's your time," the woman said, and looked at her with this clean expression; a gentle smile. "Take my hand."
It wasn't enough of an explanation for her. She shook her head. "No. I can't just go with you. They'll wonder where I am."
"They know where you are." The woman said and slid her hand into the girl's, clasping her fingers around her palm. "You're with the Beekeeper."
XXX
"Do you know who I am?" she said.
The girl shook her head, one hand on her shoulder, the other flat against her side. She didn't speak, just waited for the woman to explain her prescence.
"Don't be afraid," the woman said. "Take my hand."
The breeze tousled the teenager's hair and she put her hands on the back of her neck and gave the other woman a steady look. "Where are we going?"
"I can't tell you a specific place," was her answer. "Someplace. Somewhere."
The teenager frowned. "Can't you tell me? I can't stay all day. I have to get back. There's people waiting and I have things planned for today."
"It's your time," the woman said, and looked at her with this clean expression; a gentle smile. "Take my hand."
It wasn't enough of an explanation for her. She shook her head. "No. I can't just go with you. They'll wonder where I am."
"They know where you are." The woman said and slid her hand into the girl's, clasping her fingers around her palm. "You're with the Beekeeper."
XXX
Love Letter Romance
Love Letter Romance
By Gwendolyn Liam Vincent
& Zoe Elaine Pinkerton
XXX
Dear Diary,
Zoe came over today while my parents were gone and we watched a movie. She was so understanding and polite. And cute. She kissed my hand several times. And the side of my face. And she was just so cute. (:
When we went outside she kissed me. Well it was a sloppy kiss because I am a horrible kisser that's only been kissed once before by a stupid boy. Grr.
But Zoe's not a whore. She's so great. *sigh*
And I miss her already.
Gwen
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Dear Gwen,
Every moment with you is LiKe wAtching the most BeAutiful sunset over And over Again and eAch second.
I could not Imagine life without you Now. You have showN me What the true meaNiNg of happiNess is. Every dAy that I Am with you is the greAtest day of my Life. I wish thAt those dAys would Never eNd. ThAt I could Be with you in thAt moment forever.
ONe dAy there wAs horses... Just kidding. But, one dAy we will Be with eAch oTher EverydAy.
Also, I know that we hAve oNly Been together A short while, But It feels As if I've KNowN you my whole Life, my whole existAnce. It's scAry to thiNk About, But exhilArAting At the sAme time. I reAlly do wAnt to grow old with you. ThAt would Be a dreAm in itself. A dreAm thAt I hope thAt I Never wAkeup from.
Yours Truly,
Zoe E. Pinkerton
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This boy in my class assumed I was writing a love letter!! But I was not. I was writing a story! Now I am writing a love letter!!
I love you!!
Didja know it? I do!!
~~lay your head on my shoulder...love me like a... *some words i don't know*~~
Aren't you happy you're here? You should hug me now. I desperately need a hug!
Love you,
Gwennie
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Dear Diary,
I wish I graduated because out of the house mom wouldn't give my hanging out with Zoe a second thought.
It peturbs me how she refers to her as a "24-year-old ruffian". The "ruffian" is just thrown in because Zoe wears leather, no doubt.
I really like Zoe though and I really like how she holds my hands and kisses my hands and makes normalcy unimportant. Like, if something weird were to happen, she would just shrug and push it aside. I like that about her. And I like, basically, touching her. I like having someone to hold and that can hold me.
And she makes me feel grown-up.
Gwen
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Zo,
I called you but you might probably be asleep. You have to work tomorrow so it's understandable. That's where I'd be if I had to wake up as early as you do. (:
Anyways... I've been thinking lately about how wonderful we are together. Well... How PERFECT we are, in reality. I can never stop thinking about it. Our relationship is unlike any relationship I've ever heard of. It's fallen together like a rewinded video of someone shattering glass. You know, the glass goes together instantly without the smallest fault. And it's smooth and beautiful. Like marble. Or glass, which is what it is. Only we are not like glass in the way of it being fragile. No. We are strong and unbreakable, as we always will be.
It's so wonderful to me how my future is so dependable. Like steal. It'll be a while before we are in each other's arms constantly, but the beauty of it is that I want to wait. That it doesn't bother me to wait. And I don't think it bothers you either. I read somewhere that lovers don't finally meet somewhere, but they're in each other all along. I guess that sort of makes sense considering I wrote you into my story before I'd met you. I told you before that we were destined to be and I believe it more and more each day. With every word we speak and everything we do.
I've never seen a more caring, wonderful person than you. And I see me in you and you in me. We're so similar. And I have all these plans and you have all these plans and they fit together as if my plans WERE your plans and your plans WERE my plans.
What drives me crazy is never being able to tell you exactly how I feel for you. I can't even describe it because I get so etnitely confused and start stumbling on my words. Even in thought. I can't even think of words to describe it.
It's like if I could take all the tragedies I've ever heard and combine them. All the beauty of them is like us. Except we are not a tragedy. We're like the most beautiful tragic love story except it doesn't have a tragic ending.
This is why I cannot stop thinking about it. Because it is the best thought ever and I never ever want it to end.
Loves,
Gwen
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Dear Diary,
Officially Zoe and I have been going out for two months. Hooray! Today is a great day. And meh...Today is a bad day, maybe.
Zoe and I makeout a lot. I mean makeout-makeout. Complete with kissing and moaning and dry humping and touching... Etc...
The cases we've madeout like this are:
1st time- down at the brige behind my house, standing up
2nd time- on my bed while the parents were gone, laying down
3rd time- on the bed again
4th time- on the hood of her car laying down
5th time- on her hood again
6th time- on her hood again...
And then tonight... Since my parents were out to dinner... On the bridge, on my bed AND on the car.
Halfway throught he car one mom pulled up and I jumped up. Did she see us? who knows? Please, please, please, don't let her of saw us...
However, it would make a good story; check it ou:
"Oh yeah, my mom caught me and Zoe dry humping on the hood her car in the dark..." God it sounds so naughty. But then I can't tell anyone anyways because no one knows about her.
Zo and I are naughty together. But good. We're going to buy a cruise ship and travel the world. (; We've already discussed it.
We're really great together. Like really really. And she's so cute. ^.^
I need my chapstick. My lips hurts. Aparently when you bute your lips it means you're horny. :o Aparently I get horny A LOT. Even in class and while I sleep.
Oh my goodness... It makes me fill with DREAD when I think about whether or not mom caught us. I know her and I know the way she works. If she DID see us (heaven forbid) she won't mention it until later. And she will be cold to me FOREVER.
I don't want to ruin my life with her because she knows were together. She's so against homosexuality it's insane. I HATE that.
So I guess I'll just wait and see what she says tomorrow when she gets ready to leave. I don't think she saw us though, because if she did then she'd know I was gay. And she'd have kicked me out already.
But I guess we need to be more careful. Like makeout sessions in places she won't find us!! Like at the park of course. Or down on the bridge. Except you can see her red shirt from a mile away.
Even if mom assumes the worst... So what?At least even if we did have wild passionate sex I couldn't get pregnant. So what does she really have to be mad about?
Gwen
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Zo,
It's cold and dark in here, but even still I can find the lines and my handwriting is legible. Huzzah! What an accomplishment, I know, I know. It's of epic porportions. Bow down and stare in wonder. Or whatever.
Anyways... I find myself missing you immensly. Especially you're facial expressions. Like the one you get when you're serious. That one's my favorite. It's so pure and realistic.
We'll be going out 3 months on Friday. But... It seems years, doesn't it? In someways it seems days and days and days. Someways it seems without length... Because it will go on forever. Inevitably.
~~Will you still love me for the rest of your life??...~~
I love Chicago. Such a great 80s band, eh??
My favorite thing about us is the way we make one another shine. Like glisten.
There were these 2 geese once migrating south. The girl got shot and lay dying in a parking lot til someone from the animal help center came and rescused her. For weeks she was in rehabillitation, healing and resting. And for weeks the male goose paced around the parking lot waiting. Finally when the female was healthy enough to be released they took her back to the parking lot and let her go. There the male approached her, nuzzled her, and then the two took off into the sky.
That's the kind of devotion I have. I want. It's so wonderful to be devoted to one person and one person only. They share your dreams and plans and life.
Can you imagine a couple that trusted each other completely? Cheating wasn't even a concept because they loved each other THAT much. Which is HOW much? Love should not be something to keep you from cheating- no cheating should just NEVER be there. Love is love. Not a barrier. Not a rule or a law. It's an emotion. An emotion that goes hand in hand with devotion.
Devotion is love.
I just... I don't know. I want it.
I love you!
Gwen
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DeAr Gwendolyn,
I hAve No wAy to ExplAiN to you oN how I feel About you. IN All my Life, I hAve Not met someoNe As greAt As you Are to me. You treAt me so well! You Are Indeed A super uber greAt person. You cheer me up so much. I feel As if you complete me. The very thought of you mAkes me hAppy. Life is so woNderful wheN you Are iN it. I hAd No IdeA how woNderful it could Be. TheN you cAme iNto my Life And showed me how greAt it is. I loNg for tAlking to you, to heAr your voice, to feel your touch sends shivers dowN my Body. I feel As if we Are meANt to be together. I waNt us to be together. For As Long As we Live.
I doN't thiNk I cAn express how I feel for you At All.
SiNcerely Yours,
Zoe Pinkerton
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Dear Diary,
I met this girl today named Kate. She's really sweet. She transferred from some school in Florida and she's partnering with me on my English project.
I miss Zoe. ): I can't wait to see her on Saturday. I think it was a good thing we got a lot of our sexual tension out on Friday. We seem to be even closer, which is so close already. I'm so in love with her. I just want to tell the world how much I love Zoe. I love her to the depths...Or whatever.
But I can't because my parents hate her for being a "low-life" and would hate me by extension for being a "fag". I feel kind of strange.
I wish Zoe was here.
Gwen
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Zoe,
Hullo! "it's a trip into the golden age of railroading". I've no clue why we're watching a "History of England" movie in AP English class. o.O You should show up in your Queen Amidala costume. I had a dream last night that I drove Dad to taco bell. I thought to myself the whole dream "Zoe'll be proud!!". I for seriously need to learn to drive. I'm pathetic.
Now I'm going to draw pictures on this paper. Here's an ugly version of me today. ): I'm fat. Here's a meh version of me today. ^.^ I'm tall? And nerdy. Here's a ghost version of Donald Trump. Here's you with really bushy hair. Here's a lint monster. And here's a Velma monster.
I'm a paper waster!! )': Anyways... I'll try harder on a letter to you later, mmkay Darling?
Loves yous!
Gwennie
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Dear Diary,
The light is bright. It hurts my eyes which came accustomed to the darkness as I talked to Zoe. I love to talking to Zoe mostly as I lay in the dark, near sleep. I love a lot of things about Zoe, I think. Like the face she gets (so serious) right before we have sex. The way she makes me feel sexy. And how simple everything is to her.
I just wish... No. Nevermind. I don't care. It's nothing. I'm fine.
Gwen.
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Zoe!
I wish it would storm today and all the electricity would go out and the rest of our lessons would be canceled. Or at least they could cancel blocks two and three because they radiate evil- Math&Science. Bleh. :P
So our senior pictures today were silly. We had to wear big velveteen rabbit skins. Poor bunnys.
I'm going to take the time to draw a comic here. There's a velveteen bunny. He sees a carrot in a hole. He goes down it...INTO A VELVETEEN BUNNY COAT MAKER. The machine makes a growly noise. And POOF! Coat. In the last box you can see that weird balding photographer telling me to put it on.
See? Sheer murder!! Poor v. bunny! =^.^= Mrow! Mish! And poor us for having to wear v. bunny skins. Buuuut... I made you proud. I wore my glasses. The lady was concerned about the glare but she got over it. And I, (I hope) looked fabulous. But, you know, that's what teh school piccys lead you to believe- that you look descent, even though, secretly, you look like you were fangoriously devoured by a gelatinous monster!!
Anyhoo, today's musings on life:
1- Math is the demon lord son of the Devil sent to collect math minions to kill those of us with creativity. (i.e- me & you & Neil Gaiman)
2- V. Bunnys have families too and should not be ruthlessly slaughtered for senior draperies. Or at all. They're entirely adorable.
3- Joy to notes & stories & all other distracting elements. For they are gifts from the heavens to help us all survive The Demon Lord Math's classes... :D
You know, it is only the 5th day of school and already...
Dead. X_X
We'ere having brocolli for lunch. :P Oh joy, oh rapture. Oh...Bleh.
Anyways, I miss you!! But I get to see you the day after tomorrow so I'm positive and wishing this day would speed up major. This science class makes me want to cry. It's so pathetical.
I think I'll scream or run away... Or bang my head into the desk. Or I could just read. I think I'll read.
I love you!!
Gwendolyn
Gwennie
PS. Hi
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Dear Gwen,
IN the Short time I'ev KNowN you, And the short time we've BeeN together, I feel As if I've kNowN you forever. You hAVE BeeN the greAtest persoN to me. You AlwAys tAke iNto coNsiderAtioN ON how I feel, or whAt I thiNk.
NooNe hAs Ever treAted me Like thAt Before. I've Never felt Like this Before About AnyoNe. I'm At A Loss for words On how I feel About you. You Are so beAutiful, And so INtelligeNt. Just BeiNg ArouNd you mAkes my dAy the Best dAy iN my Life. I feel Like I've BeeN completed.....Completely completed! (: If you were here I would hold you in my Arms And Never Let you go! I wANt to Live the rest of my Life with you. Forever!
It's 2:00AM And I'm Really tired. But I cAN't sleep. I miss you so much thAt I cAN't stop thiNkiNg About Being with you. So, I cAN't Sleep coz I cAN't get you off my mind.
Love,
Zoe
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Dear Diary,
I'm in bed, on my stomach in a baggy white t-shirt. There are so many things on my mind.
I went Dairy Queen with Kate today and we had the best time just talking about Tori Amos. She actually knows the song "Baltimore". Which is weird because it's a very unpopular song. We had a very good time but when she dropped me off she reached over and squeezed my hand and ...I felt kind of guilty.
Last night Zoe and I left early and drove far out to an old abandoned barn. Zoe said "Baby it's abandoned" and I pulled her over to me and I kissed her. I whimpered. Soon all resisting was but a memory. We lost coast and shirts and her pants. And then my pants. Underwear, socks, shoes. All gone.
We made love to a folky mixed cd. She was really vocal. Then we laid for a long while with her draped over me like a cashmere throw and we breathed heaviy. The phone rang. I answered it and it was Kate.
She wanted to know if we could hang out. I sat up really quickly pulling on clothes and laughed with her. "Yes," I said. She wanted to know what I was doing at that time and I told her I was helping my mom make dinner.
I love Zoe. But something's going on with me.
Gwen.
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Zo,
I want you to know how important you are to me. To everyone. You're the one guy, you know, even though you're a girl, in the movies that every girl dreams about. The happy ending. My happy ending. There are so many hoes and hussys and horrible people in the world and it's so far and inbetween that one finds a woman like you. A woman who cares about everyone and stops to help people. You DO THAT. You have manners and you're so sweet to every person on this Earth I know. Even if they don't deserve it. And people LOVE you for it. They see you for how attractive you are on the outside and then instantly see how perfectly, incredibly, wonderfully, ENTIRELY sweet you are. It's not this deep knowing of you that captivates people- it's just you. That's what I am absolutely in love with about you. How you are to me. How you make me feel like I'm worth so much.
And it's this unexplainable feeling. I just want to be with you constantly because I love you so enternally much and I want to show you how you make me feel. Like a fairy. Haha. Or a mermaid. Something fantastic.
It's like I'm dreaming all the time. About my fairytale life and my prince, or princess I guess, and our happily-ever-after. I just love you so much. I don't want you to be confused why or why people love you ingeneral.
They love you because of how pure you are. And in all truth, and I want you to really listen to this- you are the most caring woman I've ever known- heard of. Just thinking about it makes me miss you oh-so-bad. Why can't I have you here ALL THE TIME??? When you come and I see your face for the first time in a week, it's like the whole world has lit up. Like I'm sitting all alone in a swing in a park at night, and suddenly, it's that one single moment that says it's too dark to be dark and then all the street lights turn on. And I see you walking up to me, just smiling and being my Zoe. And everything sort of sings, if you know what I mean. And my heart does this little flip in my chest and I jump to be in your arms. And it's as if, in that moment EVERYTHING ELSE in my entire life seemed pointless. Like I souly live for those moments.
Do you ever feel that way??? I love you Zoe. I really do.
Gwendolyn Liam Vincent
Gwennie <3
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Dear Diary,
In 15 days Zoe and I will be together for 11 months. And no one knows. Not even my best friends. My parents. No one.
Gwen.
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Zo. Yo. I'm in [Physical Science Class]. Blech. :P How about yourself, dear? Are you being forced to listen about circuit breakers and transformers and amplifier switches? No. You are sleeping. Loser!! :D
Heh. I love you. I wish I was sleeping... But alas... I am not. However, today is a fabulous day! No worries in the world and everything to look forward to! It's very exciting! I petitioned last block for an academic pep rally and when children tried to interupt me I yelled really loud that I wasn't finished and deserved respect. They were suprised and were very respectful then. It was nice. However even the nerds think I am an uber nerd now... But I am! I asked Aimee if she would cheer at an academic rally and she said probably not... *sigh*
Oh well! I would!!
Only like 25 minutes til lunch... Mashed potatos.
Anyways... I get to see you tomorrow! To the stores! Hurrah!
AnwywaysX2... We have to watch "Bride&Prejudice"... If you want to. (: You might like it! Maybe!
Also... I adore you Zo and you're fabulous and my favorite thing ever.
I'm drinking a half-a-cup-of-coffee!!
I am very hyper!
I love you Zo!
Gwennie
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Dear Gwen,
How cAN put iNto words About how I feel About you. I fiNd it very hArd to explAiN it ANd Not mANy words cAN explAiN it. There's just but oNe word thAt cAN explAiN the feelings I hAve for you. ThAt word is Love. I simply ANd utterly Love you ANd everything About you. You mAke me so very hAppy in Life. I doN't even wANt to thiNk of my Life without you. You Are the greAtest persoN I know, ANd you would do ANythiNg for me. Of course I would do ANythiNg for You too. I cAN oNly couNt dowN the dAys uNtil we Are together forever. I hope thAt I doN't have to wAit too Long either.
Every momeNt I speNd without you is so drab, boring. ANd paiNful. To KNow I have to eNdure A bAd dAy simply becAuse I cAN Not be with the oNe I Love so very much. So, wheN I fiNAlly get to see you it's exhillerAting! It's Also so very woNderful! The dAys I get to see you Are the best dAys of my Life. They just get better And better every time I get to see you! You Are my everythiNg- my Life.
Your Love,
Zoe Pinkerton
Zo
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Dear Diary,
I wore Zoe's shirt to school today and everyone kept asking me where I got it. Eventually I just said I didn't know and my cousin must have left it at the house. Kate said I looked really cute in it and she really liked when I wore my hair up with the braids in it. She's so freaking sweet.
I invited Zo over tonight to watch Moulin Rouge with me but she hates musicals. I've really started to notice how little we have in common. Anyways, I asked Kate and she's coming over. She's going to stay the night. Mom and Dad love her because she's so generically beautiful and I think she's used to be a cheerleader or something. Not a preppy stupid one but just a really excited gymnast. She's really cool. She doesn't smoke like Zoe does and she so her hugs just smells so clean and perfumey.
Gwennie
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Zo, my love, my reason... the best thing in this world.. I want to write this to tell you....the best I can how in love with you I am...
God, it's like I can't see anyone but you sometimes...and I keep going "how can this be real? how can this be real?" I look at you sometimes, in the car and in the park and anywhere really...and you're so gorgeous and you're looking at me so deeply...and you're amber hazel eyes are the most wonderful eyes I've ever dreamed of...oh...Zo.
I would die for you. Anything for you. I am so completely devoted to you. And because you love me and are devoted to me life is the best thing imaginable.
You make me feel sexy. And hot and pretty. Really really pretty. And I am overwhelmed with absolutely adoring you. I almost cry thinking about it. I WOULD cry if I kept at it. I near burst thinking of you alone. Everything... Everything, Zo, is beautiful.
All the intimate moments we have are so deserved and pure and I feel we could do the dirtiest thing in the entire world and I would still be so pretty to us...
Every curve of you, contour, edge, side, shape fits into me. You were made for me and I was made for you. It was destiny that we fall in love so fast and kiss and hug and make love. Zoe I know I ask you a lot was it better? But... You've convinced, you've told me it was. It was. I know it was. If you feel anything close the unimaginable high I get when you only look at me, talk to me... think of me... it WAS better.
Nothing could compare to anything we do. People will see us and say "they are more in love than any couple I've ever seen." They will ache to be us, feel us...be around the love and adoration and devotion we emit. Our auras are full of perfection. We complete each other Zo and I mean that sincerly, in the most raw and emotional way possible. In your arms the entire world is singing... Lover... Mmm... You ARE me. We are so alike. I'm trying to make sense. I promise. It's just so hard. My head is swimming frantically trying to make sense out of my thoughts. Out of "I love Zoe." That's the only sense I'm making Zoe. Love me forever. I know you will. I will.
I love you madly.
<3 Gwendolyn
Ps- Can I have a hug now?
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Dear Diary,
I almost kissed Kate last night. We left to go get some icecream after the movie and we were sitting in the car at the first stop light in town and she said this joke about private eyes and she grinned all crooked and I had this feeling like everything was telling me to throw myself forward and touch my lips to hers.
Thank the lord the light turned green and we drove some more. I resisted the feeling the rest of the night. And when Zo called me at 11, like she always does, I admitted to her that I have a girlfriend. She didn't seem suprised. She just grinned at me and said she knew I was gay and it was cool with her.
I'm confused. I don't know. And I feel more guilty than ever before. Kate helped me pick out a card for Zoe. For valentine's day.
Gwen
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Valentines Day Card:
"I've Fallen In Love Many Times... Always With You."
Zoe.
Hi. I don't know what to say that I haven't already told you. That your embrace makes the world go away. That I think of you so much I can hardly think of anything else. That if you were to disappear, I would stop existing. There are so many things I could tell you, my darling. All of them are going to sound intense and dramatic and well... That's okay.
Did you know that with me, when YOU are with me, I am me? Not like with everyone else where I have to put on a face. I'm just me. I adore you. I watch so many TV shows and movies where the greatest love stories are, well, just stories. But you're real and I can feel you and hold you and breathe when you're around. There's no...cons. No negatives. We have flaws and silly habits and rituals... But that's it- I love your flaws. I love the way you do things different from everyone else I've ever even heard of. You LISTEN to me. You hear me. You don't laugh or zone me out even when I'm being moody and emotional. You're always there... Even when you're a hundred miles away...you're there. And I could tell you a thousand more things... BUt they're all going to sound like...
I love you.
<3 Gwennie
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Dear Gwendolyn,
Everyday without you is a day in sadness. If I could spend everyday with you I would. The oNly thiNg thAt mAkes my dAys worth while is getting to talk to you oN the phoNe. I dreAm All the Time of us beiNg together All the time. ANd iN these dreAms every momeNt with you is Bliss! Just like every momeNt I speNd with you Now. ONly it's every day of my life! I hope thAt you dreAm the same!
I Love you more thAn Anything my queeN!
Love,
Zoe
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Dear Diary,
Kate told me she's a lesbian. And she has a crush on me. I have no idea what to do.
Gwen.
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ZO:
So yay for the fack that it is Friday! I get to see you tomorrow, so that's nice also! Right now I'm trying desperately to entertain myself. I'm in STATS class ans we're learning about the existence of discrete and continuous variables. So... Absolutely nothing. I'm about to implode from incredible boredom. I hate numbers.
~~we can talk and talk with you; talk talk talk!~~
I bet right now you're asleep because it's 9:30AM. What's humorous is I'm writing this extremely colourful letter while everyone else is a' learnin'. I have penetrated the system! Oh... Wow. That sounds naughty. "I"ll penetrate your system." >.>
Ah! I have cold chills! I need warmth! Ah!!
Zo, when does the bell ring? When will I be released from this numerical prison!? So like only a thousand million days until no more skoo. That's like forever. What if I'm here forever? we'll have to live in a classroom!! I'll haev to become a janitrol. Would you still love me if I was a janitrol? That's asking a lot, you know. Janitrols are really bad. I'm scared of them. ): OMG Zo, I'll be scared of myself! That will be strange. I'll have to scream constantly.
Oh Mr. Math just gave us homework. I'll totally not do it. But like copy it? Fo' sho'. Wow. This note is SUPER PRETTY. Mmph. It should never end. Today I'm going to work on my story. No work. ABFAB today will be. Oh that reminds me, my homework for Maths had this huge "ABFAB" on it, all decorated and colored and very big. and that's how I turned it in too. ^.^
Oh, I just got complemented on this beautiful letter... By a boy. He must enjoy colours. Hehhehheh. Do you keep all these letters? Are you still asleep?
You know blue pens are my favorite pens. I love them very much a lot.
In psychology class today we are looking at optical illusions. It's really lame. I'm so lamed-out I think I'll just die. *blech* Zoe I'm so bored...So bored. I don't like this class. Mr. Teacher tries so hard to "entertain" us that he kills us with it. Everyone's like "I'm so very bored". Just joking, everyone is like "yay". I think everyone must be super lame. So lame that that old guy is snickering at them. Yep.
Thank God I can write this letter instead. Unfortunately I'll have to stop writing when I get to the bottom of this paper. *sigh*
Well I love you. This summer is going to be wonderful. We get to go to Gatlinburg in your car, alone. We get to sleep together and shop and listen to a slew of awesome CDS. And it's only 97 days away. 97 days. (: You're my favorite thing in the world. My best friend! What are we going to eat when we go on vacation? What will I wear? Should I wear a tiarra? Just asking. I can't wait to go shopping for food for our new apartment. Are you super crazy excited? I'm super crazy excited. We have to set up the new apartment. What all furniture are you bringing? Dad's making me things and you know we're going to have to bring home so much stuff from Gatlinburg! Your car is going to be SOCRAZY! Dangit, I'm almost out of space. Mmph. ): It makes me very sad. But like at least the day is almost half over. Because I get to see you tomorrow, darling!
I love you! Mwuah!!
Gwennie
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Dear Diary,
I think I'm a bitch because I say "I love you" to Zoe ten times more than I used to and I keep bringing her up and stuff when I'm talking to Kate like it's some kind of barrier. I do love her. Right?
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Zoe the Zotastic,
I wrote this for you today, this letter. I wrote it and I said "I will give this to Zoe" because it is hers, rightfully.
It's not necessarily long and it doesn't even say much. You'll see when you read it. I'll say "I hope you like it" and you'll say "mmph". You'll say that and I'll say the other thing.
I worte it in Geometry and thought to myself while writing- "this note will be for Zoe." I decided to give it to you just now. In the park that belongs to everyone as I sit in one of the swings and you sit in the other.
I remembered the letter and I said or thought rather but in a speaking way- "I have a letter for Zoe." It is this letter. I wrote it for you!
I'm very glad I remember to give it to you! I'd nearly forgotten! But then I did remember. It was nice remembering.
Anyways. Here it is- the letter with all it's ink and words and letters and sentences. Six paragraphs to be specific. Six anda signature. You can read it now. Don't let my drab talking stop you. Go ahead.
I love you,
Gwennie
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Dear Gwendolyn,
You Are by fAr, the most beAutiful girl I hAve Ever LAid Eyes oN. I cAN't help But thiNk you Are my soulmAte. It seems Like destiNy to me. I thiNk I would hAve met you No mAtter whAt Life choice I would hAve mAde. You Are perfect in Every wAy I cAn thiNk of, ANywAy ImagiNAble.
My Life seems so complete with you iN it. To guide me wheN I Am Lost in the DarkNess. You Are my beAcon of Life (Like A Lighthouse) wheN I Am Lost At seA.
Every wAkiNg momeNt I Live, I wANt it to be with you. Til' deAth do us pArt.
I know it souNds pretty corNy. But, wheN doN't I? I Love you with All my heArt ANd I doN't know whAt I would do without you. Before you Just seems Like a wAste of time. You mAke me so hAppy, ANd I would do Anything IN my power to mAke you As hAppy As you mAke me! I Never waNt to give you up, I Am completely Addicted to EverythiNg About you!
I've Never hAd ANy tAke iNterest iN ANythiNg I do IN my Life Like you have doNe. I wAs AlwAys the persoN who ListeNed to other people, Never Able to get A word in Edge wise. But, you ActuAlly ListeN to whAt I hAve to sAy, Ask whAt I thiNk or how I feel. You hAve No IdeA whAt, and how much thAt meANs to me!
Your love,
Zoe Pinkerton
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Dear Diary,
I ripped out the last two pages of this diary because at first I was scared to write this. Truthfully, writing down all these thoughts does kinda seem like a bad idea. Cause then it'll all be here later to incriminate me. But then who else would I talk to about this? There is no one else really.
I'm sorta afraid, but strangely indifferent too. I want things so bad I kinda burn inside. Like a dull ache that started out as a constant throb and then calmed down. I'm confused about things too. I'm so sure about some passions but then if I can't even tell my family there must be something wrong with me.
I know she fuels my desire. I know that I sleep to dream about her. And she's not even mine. Not yet, anyways. If she were to come here right now I think I would gravitate towards her.
Life is kinda ironic isn't it? We begin it to start ending it and the simplest, most important day of it we don't even remember. So then why DO we live? With such a wide range of people in the world it's impossible to ever know.
I'm in love with Kate. I don't feel weird admitting it here because you can't judge me and, I don't know, just writing it down fills me with a sorta strength. I know I am. Strong, I mean. Even though most things I do through weakness. Not breaking up with Zoe is a damn cowardly thing to do.
I just...What will happen when I finally do take the plunge? I'm in the same situation aren't I? I'm gay. My family doesn't know. Except... Kate said she's hold my hand as I told them. Zoe, as much mush and romatic drivvle she spews would never do that. She'd bite at her lip ring and rub the scarred tissue of her tatooed arms outside in her oldsmobile. But she'd never come inside again. And my parents would hate her for her fear. Thet already hate. And they love Kate.
This is all kind of a one-way story. Which a one-way plan to go one-way and get one place and do one thing. I just want mind blowing passion. And if the world ends I'm going to yell that I'm a lesbian and I'm in love with Kate McGuff as the fire rains down.
I guess I'm pretty doomed.
Doomed.
Doomed.
Doomed.
But it's alright because as I sit in my bed holding my phone, Zoe's name highlighted on the screen...I know something's about to happen. Yes I'm scared. But I have to do this.
<3 Gwen
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By Gwendolyn Liam Vincent
& Zoe Elaine Pinkerton
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Dear Diary,
Zoe came over today while my parents were gone and we watched a movie. She was so understanding and polite. And cute. She kissed my hand several times. And the side of my face. And she was just so cute. (:
When we went outside she kissed me. Well it was a sloppy kiss because I am a horrible kisser that's only been kissed once before by a stupid boy. Grr.
But Zoe's not a whore. She's so great. *sigh*
And I miss her already.
Gwen
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Dear Gwen,
Every moment with you is LiKe wAtching the most BeAutiful sunset over And over Again and eAch second.
I could not Imagine life without you Now. You have showN me What the true meaNiNg of happiNess is. Every dAy that I Am with you is the greAtest day of my Life. I wish thAt those dAys would Never eNd. ThAt I could Be with you in thAt moment forever.
ONe dAy there wAs horses... Just kidding. But, one dAy we will Be with eAch oTher EverydAy.
Also, I know that we hAve oNly Been together A short while, But It feels As if I've KNowN you my whole Life, my whole existAnce. It's scAry to thiNk About, But exhilArAting At the sAme time. I reAlly do wAnt to grow old with you. ThAt would Be a dreAm in itself. A dreAm thAt I hope thAt I Never wAkeup from.
Yours Truly,
Zoe E. Pinkerton
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This boy in my class assumed I was writing a love letter!! But I was not. I was writing a story! Now I am writing a love letter!!
I love you!!
Didja know it? I do!!
~~lay your head on my shoulder...love me like a... *some words i don't know*~~
Aren't you happy you're here? You should hug me now. I desperately need a hug!
Love you,
Gwennie
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Dear Diary,
I wish I graduated because out of the house mom wouldn't give my hanging out with Zoe a second thought.
It peturbs me how she refers to her as a "24-year-old ruffian". The "ruffian" is just thrown in because Zoe wears leather, no doubt.
I really like Zoe though and I really like how she holds my hands and kisses my hands and makes normalcy unimportant. Like, if something weird were to happen, she would just shrug and push it aside. I like that about her. And I like, basically, touching her. I like having someone to hold and that can hold me.
And she makes me feel grown-up.
Gwen
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Zo,
I called you but you might probably be asleep. You have to work tomorrow so it's understandable. That's where I'd be if I had to wake up as early as you do. (:
Anyways... I've been thinking lately about how wonderful we are together. Well... How PERFECT we are, in reality. I can never stop thinking about it. Our relationship is unlike any relationship I've ever heard of. It's fallen together like a rewinded video of someone shattering glass. You know, the glass goes together instantly without the smallest fault. And it's smooth and beautiful. Like marble. Or glass, which is what it is. Only we are not like glass in the way of it being fragile. No. We are strong and unbreakable, as we always will be.
It's so wonderful to me how my future is so dependable. Like steal. It'll be a while before we are in each other's arms constantly, but the beauty of it is that I want to wait. That it doesn't bother me to wait. And I don't think it bothers you either. I read somewhere that lovers don't finally meet somewhere, but they're in each other all along. I guess that sort of makes sense considering I wrote you into my story before I'd met you. I told you before that we were destined to be and I believe it more and more each day. With every word we speak and everything we do.
I've never seen a more caring, wonderful person than you. And I see me in you and you in me. We're so similar. And I have all these plans and you have all these plans and they fit together as if my plans WERE your plans and your plans WERE my plans.
What drives me crazy is never being able to tell you exactly how I feel for you. I can't even describe it because I get so etnitely confused and start stumbling on my words. Even in thought. I can't even think of words to describe it.
It's like if I could take all the tragedies I've ever heard and combine them. All the beauty of them is like us. Except we are not a tragedy. We're like the most beautiful tragic love story except it doesn't have a tragic ending.
This is why I cannot stop thinking about it. Because it is the best thought ever and I never ever want it to end.
Loves,
Gwen
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Dear Diary,
Officially Zoe and I have been going out for two months. Hooray! Today is a great day. And meh...Today is a bad day, maybe.
Zoe and I makeout a lot. I mean makeout-makeout. Complete with kissing and moaning and dry humping and touching... Etc...
The cases we've madeout like this are:
1st time- down at the brige behind my house, standing up
2nd time- on my bed while the parents were gone, laying down
3rd time- on the bed again
4th time- on the hood of her car laying down
5th time- on her hood again
6th time- on her hood again...
And then tonight... Since my parents were out to dinner... On the bridge, on my bed AND on the car.
Halfway throught he car one mom pulled up and I jumped up. Did she see us? who knows? Please, please, please, don't let her of saw us...
However, it would make a good story; check it ou:
"Oh yeah, my mom caught me and Zoe dry humping on the hood her car in the dark..." God it sounds so naughty. But then I can't tell anyone anyways because no one knows about her.
Zo and I are naughty together. But good. We're going to buy a cruise ship and travel the world. (; We've already discussed it.
We're really great together. Like really really. And she's so cute. ^.^
I need my chapstick. My lips hurts. Aparently when you bute your lips it means you're horny. :o Aparently I get horny A LOT. Even in class and while I sleep.
Oh my goodness... It makes me fill with DREAD when I think about whether or not mom caught us. I know her and I know the way she works. If she DID see us (heaven forbid) she won't mention it until later. And she will be cold to me FOREVER.
I don't want to ruin my life with her because she knows were together. She's so against homosexuality it's insane. I HATE that.
So I guess I'll just wait and see what she says tomorrow when she gets ready to leave. I don't think she saw us though, because if she did then she'd know I was gay. And she'd have kicked me out already.
But I guess we need to be more careful. Like makeout sessions in places she won't find us!! Like at the park of course. Or down on the bridge. Except you can see her red shirt from a mile away.
Even if mom assumes the worst... So what?At least even if we did have wild passionate sex I couldn't get pregnant. So what does she really have to be mad about?
Gwen
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Zo,
It's cold and dark in here, but even still I can find the lines and my handwriting is legible. Huzzah! What an accomplishment, I know, I know. It's of epic porportions. Bow down and stare in wonder. Or whatever.
Anyways... I find myself missing you immensly. Especially you're facial expressions. Like the one you get when you're serious. That one's my favorite. It's so pure and realistic.
We'll be going out 3 months on Friday. But... It seems years, doesn't it? In someways it seems days and days and days. Someways it seems without length... Because it will go on forever. Inevitably.
~~Will you still love me for the rest of your life??...~~
I love Chicago. Such a great 80s band, eh??
My favorite thing about us is the way we make one another shine. Like glisten.
There were these 2 geese once migrating south. The girl got shot and lay dying in a parking lot til someone from the animal help center came and rescused her. For weeks she was in rehabillitation, healing and resting. And for weeks the male goose paced around the parking lot waiting. Finally when the female was healthy enough to be released they took her back to the parking lot and let her go. There the male approached her, nuzzled her, and then the two took off into the sky.
That's the kind of devotion I have. I want. It's so wonderful to be devoted to one person and one person only. They share your dreams and plans and life.
Can you imagine a couple that trusted each other completely? Cheating wasn't even a concept because they loved each other THAT much. Which is HOW much? Love should not be something to keep you from cheating- no cheating should just NEVER be there. Love is love. Not a barrier. Not a rule or a law. It's an emotion. An emotion that goes hand in hand with devotion.
Devotion is love.
I just... I don't know. I want it.
I love you!
Gwen
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DeAr Gwendolyn,
I hAve No wAy to ExplAiN to you oN how I feel About you. IN All my Life, I hAve Not met someoNe As greAt As you Are to me. You treAt me so well! You Are Indeed A super uber greAt person. You cheer me up so much. I feel As if you complete me. The very thought of you mAkes me hAppy. Life is so woNderful wheN you Are iN it. I hAd No IdeA how woNderful it could Be. TheN you cAme iNto my Life And showed me how greAt it is. I loNg for tAlking to you, to heAr your voice, to feel your touch sends shivers dowN my Body. I feel As if we Are meANt to be together. I waNt us to be together. For As Long As we Live.
I doN't thiNk I cAn express how I feel for you At All.
SiNcerely Yours,
Zoe Pinkerton
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Dear Diary,
I met this girl today named Kate. She's really sweet. She transferred from some school in Florida and she's partnering with me on my English project.
I miss Zoe. ): I can't wait to see her on Saturday. I think it was a good thing we got a lot of our sexual tension out on Friday. We seem to be even closer, which is so close already. I'm so in love with her. I just want to tell the world how much I love Zoe. I love her to the depths...Or whatever.
But I can't because my parents hate her for being a "low-life" and would hate me by extension for being a "fag". I feel kind of strange.
I wish Zoe was here.
Gwen
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Zoe,
Hullo! "it's a trip into the golden age of railroading". I've no clue why we're watching a "History of England" movie in AP English class. o.O You should show up in your Queen Amidala costume. I had a dream last night that I drove Dad to taco bell. I thought to myself the whole dream "Zoe'll be proud!!". I for seriously need to learn to drive. I'm pathetic.
Now I'm going to draw pictures on this paper. Here's an ugly version of me today. ): I'm fat. Here's a meh version of me today. ^.^ I'm tall? And nerdy. Here's a ghost version of Donald Trump. Here's you with really bushy hair. Here's a lint monster. And here's a Velma monster.
I'm a paper waster!! )': Anyways... I'll try harder on a letter to you later, mmkay Darling?
Loves yous!
Gwennie
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Dear Diary,
The light is bright. It hurts my eyes which came accustomed to the darkness as I talked to Zoe. I love to talking to Zoe mostly as I lay in the dark, near sleep. I love a lot of things about Zoe, I think. Like the face she gets (so serious) right before we have sex. The way she makes me feel sexy. And how simple everything is to her.
I just wish... No. Nevermind. I don't care. It's nothing. I'm fine.
Gwen.
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Zoe!
I wish it would storm today and all the electricity would go out and the rest of our lessons would be canceled. Or at least they could cancel blocks two and three because they radiate evil- Math&Science. Bleh. :P
So our senior pictures today were silly. We had to wear big velveteen rabbit skins. Poor bunnys.
I'm going to take the time to draw a comic here. There's a velveteen bunny. He sees a carrot in a hole. He goes down it...INTO A VELVETEEN BUNNY COAT MAKER. The machine makes a growly noise. And POOF! Coat. In the last box you can see that weird balding photographer telling me to put it on.
See? Sheer murder!! Poor v. bunny! =^.^= Mrow! Mish! And poor us for having to wear v. bunny skins. Buuuut... I made you proud. I wore my glasses. The lady was concerned about the glare but she got over it. And I, (I hope) looked fabulous. But, you know, that's what teh school piccys lead you to believe- that you look descent, even though, secretly, you look like you were fangoriously devoured by a gelatinous monster!!
Anyhoo, today's musings on life:
1- Math is the demon lord son of the Devil sent to collect math minions to kill those of us with creativity. (i.e- me & you & Neil Gaiman)
2- V. Bunnys have families too and should not be ruthlessly slaughtered for senior draperies. Or at all. They're entirely adorable.
3- Joy to notes & stories & all other distracting elements. For they are gifts from the heavens to help us all survive The Demon Lord Math's classes... :D
You know, it is only the 5th day of school and already...
Dead. X_X
We'ere having brocolli for lunch. :P Oh joy, oh rapture. Oh...Bleh.
Anyways, I miss you!! But I get to see you the day after tomorrow so I'm positive and wishing this day would speed up major. This science class makes me want to cry. It's so pathetical.
I think I'll scream or run away... Or bang my head into the desk. Or I could just read. I think I'll read.
I love you!!
Gwendolyn
Gwennie
PS. Hi
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Dear Gwen,
IN the Short time I'ev KNowN you, And the short time we've BeeN together, I feel As if I've kNowN you forever. You hAVE BeeN the greAtest persoN to me. You AlwAys tAke iNto coNsiderAtioN ON how I feel, or whAt I thiNk.
NooNe hAs Ever treAted me Like thAt Before. I've Never felt Like this Before About AnyoNe. I'm At A Loss for words On how I feel About you. You Are so beAutiful, And so INtelligeNt. Just BeiNg ArouNd you mAkes my dAy the Best dAy iN my Life. I feel Like I've BeeN completed.....Completely completed! (: If you were here I would hold you in my Arms And Never Let you go! I wANt to Live the rest of my Life with you. Forever!
It's 2:00AM And I'm Really tired. But I cAN't sleep. I miss you so much thAt I cAN't stop thiNkiNg About Being with you. So, I cAN't Sleep coz I cAN't get you off my mind.
Love,
Zoe
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Dear Diary,
I'm in bed, on my stomach in a baggy white t-shirt. There are so many things on my mind.
I went Dairy Queen with Kate today and we had the best time just talking about Tori Amos. She actually knows the song "Baltimore". Which is weird because it's a very unpopular song. We had a very good time but when she dropped me off she reached over and squeezed my hand and ...I felt kind of guilty.
Last night Zoe and I left early and drove far out to an old abandoned barn. Zoe said "Baby it's abandoned" and I pulled her over to me and I kissed her. I whimpered. Soon all resisting was but a memory. We lost coast and shirts and her pants. And then my pants. Underwear, socks, shoes. All gone.
We made love to a folky mixed cd. She was really vocal. Then we laid for a long while with her draped over me like a cashmere throw and we breathed heaviy. The phone rang. I answered it and it was Kate.
She wanted to know if we could hang out. I sat up really quickly pulling on clothes and laughed with her. "Yes," I said. She wanted to know what I was doing at that time and I told her I was helping my mom make dinner.
I love Zoe. But something's going on with me.
Gwen.
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Zo,
I want you to know how important you are to me. To everyone. You're the one guy, you know, even though you're a girl, in the movies that every girl dreams about. The happy ending. My happy ending. There are so many hoes and hussys and horrible people in the world and it's so far and inbetween that one finds a woman like you. A woman who cares about everyone and stops to help people. You DO THAT. You have manners and you're so sweet to every person on this Earth I know. Even if they don't deserve it. And people LOVE you for it. They see you for how attractive you are on the outside and then instantly see how perfectly, incredibly, wonderfully, ENTIRELY sweet you are. It's not this deep knowing of you that captivates people- it's just you. That's what I am absolutely in love with about you. How you are to me. How you make me feel like I'm worth so much.
And it's this unexplainable feeling. I just want to be with you constantly because I love you so enternally much and I want to show you how you make me feel. Like a fairy. Haha. Or a mermaid. Something fantastic.
It's like I'm dreaming all the time. About my fairytale life and my prince, or princess I guess, and our happily-ever-after. I just love you so much. I don't want you to be confused why or why people love you ingeneral.
They love you because of how pure you are. And in all truth, and I want you to really listen to this- you are the most caring woman I've ever known- heard of. Just thinking about it makes me miss you oh-so-bad. Why can't I have you here ALL THE TIME??? When you come and I see your face for the first time in a week, it's like the whole world has lit up. Like I'm sitting all alone in a swing in a park at night, and suddenly, it's that one single moment that says it's too dark to be dark and then all the street lights turn on. And I see you walking up to me, just smiling and being my Zoe. And everything sort of sings, if you know what I mean. And my heart does this little flip in my chest and I jump to be in your arms. And it's as if, in that moment EVERYTHING ELSE in my entire life seemed pointless. Like I souly live for those moments.
Do you ever feel that way??? I love you Zoe. I really do.
Gwendolyn Liam Vincent
Gwennie <3
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Dear Diary,
In 15 days Zoe and I will be together for 11 months. And no one knows. Not even my best friends. My parents. No one.
Gwen.
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Zo. Yo. I'm in [Physical Science Class]. Blech. :P How about yourself, dear? Are you being forced to listen about circuit breakers and transformers and amplifier switches? No. You are sleeping. Loser!! :D
Heh. I love you. I wish I was sleeping... But alas... I am not. However, today is a fabulous day! No worries in the world and everything to look forward to! It's very exciting! I petitioned last block for an academic pep rally and when children tried to interupt me I yelled really loud that I wasn't finished and deserved respect. They were suprised and were very respectful then. It was nice. However even the nerds think I am an uber nerd now... But I am! I asked Aimee if she would cheer at an academic rally and she said probably not... *sigh*
Oh well! I would!!
Only like 25 minutes til lunch... Mashed potatos.
Anyways... I get to see you tomorrow! To the stores! Hurrah!
AnwywaysX2... We have to watch "Bride&Prejudice"... If you want to. (: You might like it! Maybe!
Also... I adore you Zo and you're fabulous and my favorite thing ever.
I'm drinking a half-a-cup-of-coffee!!
I am very hyper!
I love you Zo!
Gwennie
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Dear Gwen,
How cAN put iNto words About how I feel About you. I fiNd it very hArd to explAiN it ANd Not mANy words cAN explAiN it. There's just but oNe word thAt cAN explAiN the feelings I hAve for you. ThAt word is Love. I simply ANd utterly Love you ANd everything About you. You mAke me so very hAppy in Life. I doN't even wANt to thiNk of my Life without you. You Are the greAtest persoN I know, ANd you would do ANythiNg for me. Of course I would do ANythiNg for You too. I cAN oNly couNt dowN the dAys uNtil we Are together forever. I hope thAt I doN't have to wAit too Long either.
Every momeNt I speNd without you is so drab, boring. ANd paiNful. To KNow I have to eNdure A bAd dAy simply becAuse I cAN Not be with the oNe I Love so very much. So, wheN I fiNAlly get to see you it's exhillerAting! It's Also so very woNderful! The dAys I get to see you Are the best dAys of my Life. They just get better And better every time I get to see you! You Are my everythiNg- my Life.
Your Love,
Zoe Pinkerton
Zo
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Dear Diary,
I wore Zoe's shirt to school today and everyone kept asking me where I got it. Eventually I just said I didn't know and my cousin must have left it at the house. Kate said I looked really cute in it and she really liked when I wore my hair up with the braids in it. She's so freaking sweet.
I invited Zo over tonight to watch Moulin Rouge with me but she hates musicals. I've really started to notice how little we have in common. Anyways, I asked Kate and she's coming over. She's going to stay the night. Mom and Dad love her because she's so generically beautiful and I think she's used to be a cheerleader or something. Not a preppy stupid one but just a really excited gymnast. She's really cool. She doesn't smoke like Zoe does and she so her hugs just smells so clean and perfumey.
Gwennie
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Zo, my love, my reason... the best thing in this world.. I want to write this to tell you....the best I can how in love with you I am...
God, it's like I can't see anyone but you sometimes...and I keep going "how can this be real? how can this be real?" I look at you sometimes, in the car and in the park and anywhere really...and you're so gorgeous and you're looking at me so deeply...and you're amber hazel eyes are the most wonderful eyes I've ever dreamed of...oh...Zo.
I would die for you. Anything for you. I am so completely devoted to you. And because you love me and are devoted to me life is the best thing imaginable.
You make me feel sexy. And hot and pretty. Really really pretty. And I am overwhelmed with absolutely adoring you. I almost cry thinking about it. I WOULD cry if I kept at it. I near burst thinking of you alone. Everything... Everything, Zo, is beautiful.
All the intimate moments we have are so deserved and pure and I feel we could do the dirtiest thing in the entire world and I would still be so pretty to us...
Every curve of you, contour, edge, side, shape fits into me. You were made for me and I was made for you. It was destiny that we fall in love so fast and kiss and hug and make love. Zoe I know I ask you a lot was it better? But... You've convinced, you've told me it was. It was. I know it was. If you feel anything close the unimaginable high I get when you only look at me, talk to me... think of me... it WAS better.
Nothing could compare to anything we do. People will see us and say "they are more in love than any couple I've ever seen." They will ache to be us, feel us...be around the love and adoration and devotion we emit. Our auras are full of perfection. We complete each other Zo and I mean that sincerly, in the most raw and emotional way possible. In your arms the entire world is singing... Lover... Mmm... You ARE me. We are so alike. I'm trying to make sense. I promise. It's just so hard. My head is swimming frantically trying to make sense out of my thoughts. Out of "I love Zoe." That's the only sense I'm making Zoe. Love me forever. I know you will. I will.
I love you madly.
<3 Gwendolyn
Ps- Can I have a hug now?
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Dear Diary,
I almost kissed Kate last night. We left to go get some icecream after the movie and we were sitting in the car at the first stop light in town and she said this joke about private eyes and she grinned all crooked and I had this feeling like everything was telling me to throw myself forward and touch my lips to hers.
Thank the lord the light turned green and we drove some more. I resisted the feeling the rest of the night. And when Zo called me at 11, like she always does, I admitted to her that I have a girlfriend. She didn't seem suprised. She just grinned at me and said she knew I was gay and it was cool with her.
I'm confused. I don't know. And I feel more guilty than ever before. Kate helped me pick out a card for Zoe. For valentine's day.
Gwen
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Valentines Day Card:
"I've Fallen In Love Many Times... Always With You."
Zoe.
Hi. I don't know what to say that I haven't already told you. That your embrace makes the world go away. That I think of you so much I can hardly think of anything else. That if you were to disappear, I would stop existing. There are so many things I could tell you, my darling. All of them are going to sound intense and dramatic and well... That's okay.
Did you know that with me, when YOU are with me, I am me? Not like with everyone else where I have to put on a face. I'm just me. I adore you. I watch so many TV shows and movies where the greatest love stories are, well, just stories. But you're real and I can feel you and hold you and breathe when you're around. There's no...cons. No negatives. We have flaws and silly habits and rituals... But that's it- I love your flaws. I love the way you do things different from everyone else I've ever even heard of. You LISTEN to me. You hear me. You don't laugh or zone me out even when I'm being moody and emotional. You're always there... Even when you're a hundred miles away...you're there. And I could tell you a thousand more things... BUt they're all going to sound like...
I love you.
<3 Gwennie
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Dear Gwendolyn,
Everyday without you is a day in sadness. If I could spend everyday with you I would. The oNly thiNg thAt mAkes my dAys worth while is getting to talk to you oN the phoNe. I dreAm All the Time of us beiNg together All the time. ANd iN these dreAms every momeNt with you is Bliss! Just like every momeNt I speNd with you Now. ONly it's every day of my life! I hope thAt you dreAm the same!
I Love you more thAn Anything my queeN!
Love,
Zoe
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Dear Diary,
Kate told me she's a lesbian. And she has a crush on me. I have no idea what to do.
Gwen.
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ZO:
So yay for the fack that it is Friday! I get to see you tomorrow, so that's nice also! Right now I'm trying desperately to entertain myself. I'm in STATS class ans we're learning about the existence of discrete and continuous variables. So... Absolutely nothing. I'm about to implode from incredible boredom. I hate numbers.
~~we can talk and talk with you; talk talk talk!~~
I bet right now you're asleep because it's 9:30AM. What's humorous is I'm writing this extremely colourful letter while everyone else is a' learnin'. I have penetrated the system! Oh... Wow. That sounds naughty. "I"ll penetrate your system." >.>
Ah! I have cold chills! I need warmth! Ah!!
Zo, when does the bell ring? When will I be released from this numerical prison!? So like only a thousand million days until no more skoo. That's like forever. What if I'm here forever? we'll have to live in a classroom!! I'll haev to become a janitrol. Would you still love me if I was a janitrol? That's asking a lot, you know. Janitrols are really bad. I'm scared of them. ): OMG Zo, I'll be scared of myself! That will be strange. I'll have to scream constantly.
Oh Mr. Math just gave us homework. I'll totally not do it. But like copy it? Fo' sho'. Wow. This note is SUPER PRETTY. Mmph. It should never end. Today I'm going to work on my story. No work. ABFAB today will be. Oh that reminds me, my homework for Maths had this huge "ABFAB" on it, all decorated and colored and very big. and that's how I turned it in too. ^.^
Oh, I just got complemented on this beautiful letter... By a boy. He must enjoy colours. Hehhehheh. Do you keep all these letters? Are you still asleep?
You know blue pens are my favorite pens. I love them very much a lot.
In psychology class today we are looking at optical illusions. It's really lame. I'm so lamed-out I think I'll just die. *blech* Zoe I'm so bored...So bored. I don't like this class. Mr. Teacher tries so hard to "entertain" us that he kills us with it. Everyone's like "I'm so very bored". Just joking, everyone is like "yay". I think everyone must be super lame. So lame that that old guy is snickering at them. Yep.
Thank God I can write this letter instead. Unfortunately I'll have to stop writing when I get to the bottom of this paper. *sigh*
Well I love you. This summer is going to be wonderful. We get to go to Gatlinburg in your car, alone. We get to sleep together and shop and listen to a slew of awesome CDS. And it's only 97 days away. 97 days. (: You're my favorite thing in the world. My best friend! What are we going to eat when we go on vacation? What will I wear? Should I wear a tiarra? Just asking. I can't wait to go shopping for food for our new apartment. Are you super crazy excited? I'm super crazy excited. We have to set up the new apartment. What all furniture are you bringing? Dad's making me things and you know we're going to have to bring home so much stuff from Gatlinburg! Your car is going to be SOCRAZY! Dangit, I'm almost out of space. Mmph. ): It makes me very sad. But like at least the day is almost half over. Because I get to see you tomorrow, darling!
I love you! Mwuah!!
Gwennie
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Dear Diary,
I think I'm a bitch because I say "I love you" to Zoe ten times more than I used to and I keep bringing her up and stuff when I'm talking to Kate like it's some kind of barrier. I do love her. Right?
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Zoe the Zotastic,
I wrote this for you today, this letter. I wrote it and I said "I will give this to Zoe" because it is hers, rightfully.
It's not necessarily long and it doesn't even say much. You'll see when you read it. I'll say "I hope you like it" and you'll say "mmph". You'll say that and I'll say the other thing.
I worte it in Geometry and thought to myself while writing- "this note will be for Zoe." I decided to give it to you just now. In the park that belongs to everyone as I sit in one of the swings and you sit in the other.
I remembered the letter and I said or thought rather but in a speaking way- "I have a letter for Zoe." It is this letter. I wrote it for you!
I'm very glad I remember to give it to you! I'd nearly forgotten! But then I did remember. It was nice remembering.
Anyways. Here it is- the letter with all it's ink and words and letters and sentences. Six paragraphs to be specific. Six anda signature. You can read it now. Don't let my drab talking stop you. Go ahead.
I love you,
Gwennie
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Dear Gwendolyn,
You Are by fAr, the most beAutiful girl I hAve Ever LAid Eyes oN. I cAN't help But thiNk you Are my soulmAte. It seems Like destiNy to me. I thiNk I would hAve met you No mAtter whAt Life choice I would hAve mAde. You Are perfect in Every wAy I cAn thiNk of, ANywAy ImagiNAble.
My Life seems so complete with you iN it. To guide me wheN I Am Lost in the DarkNess. You Are my beAcon of Life (Like A Lighthouse) wheN I Am Lost At seA.
Every wAkiNg momeNt I Live, I wANt it to be with you. Til' deAth do us pArt.
I know it souNds pretty corNy. But, wheN doN't I? I Love you with All my heArt ANd I doN't know whAt I would do without you. Before you Just seems Like a wAste of time. You mAke me so hAppy, ANd I would do Anything IN my power to mAke you As hAppy As you mAke me! I Never waNt to give you up, I Am completely Addicted to EverythiNg About you!
I've Never hAd ANy tAke iNterest iN ANythiNg I do IN my Life Like you have doNe. I wAs AlwAys the persoN who ListeNed to other people, Never Able to get A word in Edge wise. But, you ActuAlly ListeN to whAt I hAve to sAy, Ask whAt I thiNk or how I feel. You hAve No IdeA whAt, and how much thAt meANs to me!
Your love,
Zoe Pinkerton
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Dear Diary,
I ripped out the last two pages of this diary because at first I was scared to write this. Truthfully, writing down all these thoughts does kinda seem like a bad idea. Cause then it'll all be here later to incriminate me. But then who else would I talk to about this? There is no one else really.
I'm sorta afraid, but strangely indifferent too. I want things so bad I kinda burn inside. Like a dull ache that started out as a constant throb and then calmed down. I'm confused about things too. I'm so sure about some passions but then if I can't even tell my family there must be something wrong with me.
I know she fuels my desire. I know that I sleep to dream about her. And she's not even mine. Not yet, anyways. If she were to come here right now I think I would gravitate towards her.
Life is kinda ironic isn't it? We begin it to start ending it and the simplest, most important day of it we don't even remember. So then why DO we live? With such a wide range of people in the world it's impossible to ever know.
I'm in love with Kate. I don't feel weird admitting it here because you can't judge me and, I don't know, just writing it down fills me with a sorta strength. I know I am. Strong, I mean. Even though most things I do through weakness. Not breaking up with Zoe is a damn cowardly thing to do.
I just...What will happen when I finally do take the plunge? I'm in the same situation aren't I? I'm gay. My family doesn't know. Except... Kate said she's hold my hand as I told them. Zoe, as much mush and romatic drivvle she spews would never do that. She'd bite at her lip ring and rub the scarred tissue of her tatooed arms outside in her oldsmobile. But she'd never come inside again. And my parents would hate her for her fear. Thet already hate. And they love Kate.
This is all kind of a one-way story. Which a one-way plan to go one-way and get one place and do one thing. I just want mind blowing passion. And if the world ends I'm going to yell that I'm a lesbian and I'm in love with Kate McGuff as the fire rains down.
I guess I'm pretty doomed.
Doomed.
Doomed.
Doomed.
But it's alright because as I sit in my bed holding my phone, Zoe's name highlighted on the screen...I know something's about to happen. Yes I'm scared. But I have to do this.
<3 Gwen
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Even Still [Beginning]
Even Still
XXX
When Devon watched Lydia Rosaline unwrap the cerulean piece of saltwater taffy she knew she loved her. It was and it wasn't about details. For instance she downright adored the way her hair fell down the back of her cerise sweater. But really she just simply valued how red it was. She got cold chills listening to her carefully articulated midwestern accent, but in particular she experienced a sort of euphoric madness as she spoke, her words drizzling out of her lips like melted chocolate. Lydia's hands were lustrous and feminine, but her fingers were long and tapered and moved with terrifying grace. She had the most well-turned legs, and her walk was a sauntered gait. But, see, she simply stood with this sense of confidence. Devon adored Lydia with this sort of instant love-at-first-sight atraction that had her mind vibrating with possibilities, some platonic, yet others coy and ellicit. She revered her as the most handsome person she'd ever been witnessed to. She craved her seashell ears, her rouged, generous lips, even her slender, soft-skinned neck. But in short, Lydia Hallowind could tell, in those first moments, without a pin-prick of municipal doubt that Lydia was absolutely the one.
Lydia wasn't a lesbian. She prefered the term "sexually curious" because it was much more accepted in society. Devon was exactly the kind of girl she was meant to fall for, and so, upon making eye contact with her for the first time, she knew she was doomed. She placed the salty treat on her tongue and sucked the flavour from it. She was straight forward, at least, in her feelings. Lydia loved Devon on the soul principal that she was a magnificent combination of everything she wanted in a girl. She recognized the passion in her cornflower irises, the fervor in her set jaw, the zeal spirking from her rounded fingertips and had entirely no shame in admitting to herself that the woman standing before her had an immediate and powerful effect on that certain place between her thighs.
The little taffy shop off the marina was owned by Lydia's father, Rutherford Rosaline, a tall, aged Texan with a passion for candy. It was just called "The Taffy Shoppe" with two P's and an E for class. It wasn't the taffy or the class of the shop that drew Devon into the building. She'd been strolling with her cousin Melanie down the board walk when she saw the place just ahead, across the way from the marina. Devon never much cared for taffy. Yet, looking up at the red letters above the door and the blue framed door, she had the feeling she needed to investigate. She'd handed her half-finished soda to her cousin and walked up the incline to the door.
There was no one there save for an aging woman named Naomi who smiled a lot and offered her free samples. She had large, pink cheeks and cotton ball hair that she had piled on top of her head and her fingers were quite chubby. Devon adored the woman instantly missing her mother back home in Ohio who had died so suddenly in a car accident last fall.
Naomi Lansky had only one child and after he joined the Peace Corps, she retired to a life of taffy pulling. She thought that Devon was cute as a button and wanted to ruffle her short tawny hair and pinch her rounded, freckled cheeks. Devon had on peat coat and thin legged jeans and she looked so small and unnurtured. Naomi offered her some taffy and when she turned it down, some coffee out of the back. Devon laughed and politely. The women had just started a conversation about Devon's recent move to Matchstone when the door to the back opened up and a Rutherford Rosaline and his daugther stepped out.
Lydia's parents were divorced and Rutherford was remarried to a housewife named Kathleen who was very practical and in all truth, very boring. Antionette Shelly, Lydia's actual mother, was tall, beautiful, entusiastic and everything Katleen was not. She lived in England now and for the last several years, that was were Lydia had been. She studied poetry and returned to discuss her inheritance in the shop. Her father was very much in his sixties and preferred to think his only heir would take over his business even if she seriously had other plans.
Devon had moved to Matchstone following her graduation from University to live with her cousin Melanie who had just broken up with her long term boyfriend. She was single, had her entire life ahead of her and found the scenery off the coast of Maine breathtaking and excellent sources of inspiration for her artwork. She considered herself a starving artist, although her cousin was very well off from an inheritance from her late father and neither of them had ever gone a day without proper meals. But the general nature of struggle played in her eyes, and perhaps that was why she was so drawn to Lydia.
She was a poet, Lydia, and found everything everyone said to be some sort of stanza and free game for furture sonnet inspiration. She always played guitar and often found herself singing tunes she'd really never heard before. She saw something intensely rhythmatic in Devon, and Devon saw an artistical masterpiece. She wanted to sketch the countour of her face and Lydia wanted to come up with metaphors to describe the way Devon's eyes lit up the room.
Both women would have liked to have been able to say that they said something first, but neither did. Rutherford clapped his daughter on the shoulder, told her to have a wonderful day and left the shop in a tizzy, knowing Kathleen said dinner was at six and it was now six fifteen. Naomi introduced them, so really, if it hadn't been for her, none of this would have ever happened, and there would have been no story at all.
"Lydia, Dear," she said and came bustling out from behind the counter, pulling the five foot six redhead into her short arms, "it's absolutely lovely to see you again! Did you just get in today?"
"Mmhmm," Lydia said and patted the woman on the shoulder. "I did. I'd good to see you too Naomi."
Naomi clapped her hands together. "Oh my! It's just so wonderful having you back. Your Rutherford and Kathleen, well your FATHER anyhow, has been going on about having you home. And now look at you! You're so big now! And all grown-up."
"I hope I'm not too big."
The woman laughed. "Oh no." Her eyes crinkled at the edges and then, remembering Devon, she turned and said, "Oh this is Devon, she's new to town. She just meandering in a moment ago."
Lydia turned then and saw Devon standing by the bins of taffy, trying to look like she was just a casual shopper. She ate the piece of taffy her father had given her minutes ago that she'd been running her fingers over absentmindedly and smiled at the customer.
"It's nice to meet you," she said, her voice smooth and educated. "I'm Lydia."
"Devon," Devon said.
Lydia's mother entertained the lifestyle of bisexuality many years before announcing, casually to her father that she was entirely gay and leaving him for a theatre major. Rutherford never got over it and often made the odd crack about gays and their subhuman anticulture. It was easier for Lydia to deny her feelings than deal with his stern, oldfashioned opinions.
Devon's father, whom she lived souly with until his death last fall of liver failure, had always told her to follow her heart, chase her passions and make her greatest dreams reality. She knew Lydia had an attraction to her. Her father called it the Hallowind gift. What she lacked was the initial gusta to point it out. She smiled at her apologized for not buying anything and exited The Taffy Shoppe.
XXX
XXX
When Devon watched Lydia Rosaline unwrap the cerulean piece of saltwater taffy she knew she loved her. It was and it wasn't about details. For instance she downright adored the way her hair fell down the back of her cerise sweater. But really she just simply valued how red it was. She got cold chills listening to her carefully articulated midwestern accent, but in particular she experienced a sort of euphoric madness as she spoke, her words drizzling out of her lips like melted chocolate. Lydia's hands were lustrous and feminine, but her fingers were long and tapered and moved with terrifying grace. She had the most well-turned legs, and her walk was a sauntered gait. But, see, she simply stood with this sense of confidence. Devon adored Lydia with this sort of instant love-at-first-sight atraction that had her mind vibrating with possibilities, some platonic, yet others coy and ellicit. She revered her as the most handsome person she'd ever been witnessed to. She craved her seashell ears, her rouged, generous lips, even her slender, soft-skinned neck. But in short, Lydia Hallowind could tell, in those first moments, without a pin-prick of municipal doubt that Lydia was absolutely the one.
Lydia wasn't a lesbian. She prefered the term "sexually curious" because it was much more accepted in society. Devon was exactly the kind of girl she was meant to fall for, and so, upon making eye contact with her for the first time, she knew she was doomed. She placed the salty treat on her tongue and sucked the flavour from it. She was straight forward, at least, in her feelings. Lydia loved Devon on the soul principal that she was a magnificent combination of everything she wanted in a girl. She recognized the passion in her cornflower irises, the fervor in her set jaw, the zeal spirking from her rounded fingertips and had entirely no shame in admitting to herself that the woman standing before her had an immediate and powerful effect on that certain place between her thighs.
The little taffy shop off the marina was owned by Lydia's father, Rutherford Rosaline, a tall, aged Texan with a passion for candy. It was just called "The Taffy Shoppe" with two P's and an E for class. It wasn't the taffy or the class of the shop that drew Devon into the building. She'd been strolling with her cousin Melanie down the board walk when she saw the place just ahead, across the way from the marina. Devon never much cared for taffy. Yet, looking up at the red letters above the door and the blue framed door, she had the feeling she needed to investigate. She'd handed her half-finished soda to her cousin and walked up the incline to the door.
There was no one there save for an aging woman named Naomi who smiled a lot and offered her free samples. She had large, pink cheeks and cotton ball hair that she had piled on top of her head and her fingers were quite chubby. Devon adored the woman instantly missing her mother back home in Ohio who had died so suddenly in a car accident last fall.
Naomi Lansky had only one child and after he joined the Peace Corps, she retired to a life of taffy pulling. She thought that Devon was cute as a button and wanted to ruffle her short tawny hair and pinch her rounded, freckled cheeks. Devon had on peat coat and thin legged jeans and she looked so small and unnurtured. Naomi offered her some taffy and when she turned it down, some coffee out of the back. Devon laughed and politely. The women had just started a conversation about Devon's recent move to Matchstone when the door to the back opened up and a Rutherford Rosaline and his daugther stepped out.
Lydia's parents were divorced and Rutherford was remarried to a housewife named Kathleen who was very practical and in all truth, very boring. Antionette Shelly, Lydia's actual mother, was tall, beautiful, entusiastic and everything Katleen was not. She lived in England now and for the last several years, that was were Lydia had been. She studied poetry and returned to discuss her inheritance in the shop. Her father was very much in his sixties and preferred to think his only heir would take over his business even if she seriously had other plans.
Devon had moved to Matchstone following her graduation from University to live with her cousin Melanie who had just broken up with her long term boyfriend. She was single, had her entire life ahead of her and found the scenery off the coast of Maine breathtaking and excellent sources of inspiration for her artwork. She considered herself a starving artist, although her cousin was very well off from an inheritance from her late father and neither of them had ever gone a day without proper meals. But the general nature of struggle played in her eyes, and perhaps that was why she was so drawn to Lydia.
She was a poet, Lydia, and found everything everyone said to be some sort of stanza and free game for furture sonnet inspiration. She always played guitar and often found herself singing tunes she'd really never heard before. She saw something intensely rhythmatic in Devon, and Devon saw an artistical masterpiece. She wanted to sketch the countour of her face and Lydia wanted to come up with metaphors to describe the way Devon's eyes lit up the room.
Both women would have liked to have been able to say that they said something first, but neither did. Rutherford clapped his daughter on the shoulder, told her to have a wonderful day and left the shop in a tizzy, knowing Kathleen said dinner was at six and it was now six fifteen. Naomi introduced them, so really, if it hadn't been for her, none of this would have ever happened, and there would have been no story at all.
"Lydia, Dear," she said and came bustling out from behind the counter, pulling the five foot six redhead into her short arms, "it's absolutely lovely to see you again! Did you just get in today?"
"Mmhmm," Lydia said and patted the woman on the shoulder. "I did. I'd good to see you too Naomi."
Naomi clapped her hands together. "Oh my! It's just so wonderful having you back. Your Rutherford and Kathleen, well your FATHER anyhow, has been going on about having you home. And now look at you! You're so big now! And all grown-up."
"I hope I'm not too big."
The woman laughed. "Oh no." Her eyes crinkled at the edges and then, remembering Devon, she turned and said, "Oh this is Devon, she's new to town. She just meandering in a moment ago."
Lydia turned then and saw Devon standing by the bins of taffy, trying to look like she was just a casual shopper. She ate the piece of taffy her father had given her minutes ago that she'd been running her fingers over absentmindedly and smiled at the customer.
"It's nice to meet you," she said, her voice smooth and educated. "I'm Lydia."
"Devon," Devon said.
Lydia's mother entertained the lifestyle of bisexuality many years before announcing, casually to her father that she was entirely gay and leaving him for a theatre major. Rutherford never got over it and often made the odd crack about gays and their subhuman anticulture. It was easier for Lydia to deny her feelings than deal with his stern, oldfashioned opinions.
Devon's father, whom she lived souly with until his death last fall of liver failure, had always told her to follow her heart, chase her passions and make her greatest dreams reality. She knew Lydia had an attraction to her. Her father called it the Hallowind gift. What she lacked was the initial gusta to point it out. She smiled at her apologized for not buying anything and exited The Taffy Shoppe.
XXX
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