My first day back and I hope this euphoria feeling won't dissapear just yet. I need to get through the week. I miss my friends terribly. Breathe.

I was eating some left overs that my brother and I ate from yesterday at Chiles, before I left for my flight. It's hard to believe that I was in a place that loved me and that I loved back 24 hours ago and now I'm in a place where invisibility of my name is inevitable.

Monterey Chicken

My brothers, Country Fried Streak

My mom came in the room and started talking to me about something random about staying with Jess in Kansas. I think she got upset because I didn't offer her any of my chicken.

You should think about why Scott left you!

Sweet ass, Mom. Don't get pissy because I didn't offer you food. You know that talking about missouri/kansas makes me nostalgic and puts me in a bad mood because I'm so far away.

I came home aound 10:00 last night; my flight was delayed two hours just like the last time. And I sat in the plane staring out the window and I tried to make the tears quiet so no one would see me making sentimental fool of myself. I stared out the window for a look time trying to make sense of what I was feeling. Back to hell. And I tried to be okay about it.

And as I'm sitting here typing, a song that Scott and I use to listen to together is playing. And I get this feeling of sadness. The quiet kind that I try to make so no one notices.

Here we lay again,
On two separate beds,
Riding phone lines,
To meet a familiar voice,
And pictures drawn from memory.
We reflect on miscommunications,
And missunderstandings,
And missing each other too,
Much to have had to let go.
~the starting line

And that is that.

And everything feels familiar but foreign. And I'm trying to be okay that I'll never hear his voice again. I'm really trying. And I'm trying not to think about his smile or his hazel eyes and the way he scrunched up his hair with the palm of his hand because he liked it curly. Or the way he would laugh just try to make me laugh. I'm not thinking any of those things.

I was drunk or high pretty much most of the time I spent there, even though I don't smoke pot. We were all in the car and I was getting high off of the second hand smoke.

OOO! What a pretty yellow car.
It's white, May
Na unh! Woooahh

I just kept drinking to make everything go away and a lot of it did. We drove around which is the one thing I didn't approve of because we were all so fucked up.

Saturday was nice. And there was this nice guy who listens to the same music as I do, who wants to be a music producer, who is in a band called Sleepy Eddy, who wore a basecap cap and a geniuine nice-guy smile. And I liked him. And I did stuff with him. And I tried not to think about Scott. Because he was the first ...and only... boy I ever kissed or did anything intimate with. And I closed my eyes and just pretended. I did all the things Scott would like because that's all I knew. And it was strange because the boy with the nice-guy smile smelled different and tasted different. And I wasn't sure exactly what I was doing because I was a little drunk but not much, because I still remember doing those things with him. And I might like him because he makes me smile and is really cute, and had eyes that looked sincere, the kind where you feel safe. He likes to talk and listen. And he was really huggable and intentive. Aren't they all? Because he was a good kisser and held me just right. And breathed by my neck and touched me. And he had a smile that moved me. He moved me. And I liked that ...I think. His name is Brian. And I hope I see him again.

I'm cold from the iced cranberry juice and full from the leftovers from Chiles. My socks smell like they haven't been washed for days. I think I took them from Jess'. I'm trying not to think about when 9:00 clock comes rolling around and the phone won't ring and it won't be him. And I'm trying to make the tears quiet because that is what you are suppose to do at a time like this.

No one notices that I hurt at St. Charles, at my new school. No one notices because I'm new and I guess I seem old to them. Old News. And I'm trying to be okay with no one loving me up here and trying to sustain that feeling of love from being down in Kansas City. Holla. Right. Okay. I'm okay. And everything is going to be okay because it is only a few months. And I will leave and not come back unless to visit my parents. And I'm trying to make that enough. I'm trying with my quiet tears that taste like cranberry juice.

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