where yesterdays are all boxed up & neatly put away.

its been about 1 month since i left home. things have been pretty alright, bouts of emo-ness and omg i'm single-ness. but otherwise. everything's been fine. lovely 1996 sauternes tasting on friday, i cannot wait :D and then london sat-sun/mon. as if things weren't already unlikely enough, even unlikelier will commence 21/01.

do you remember sitting on your couch or at the edge of your bed, wine in hand. staring at the city lights in front of the two of you... talking about being preppy, whether certain brands were preppy enough, what families were in what businesses, this and that. or were the two of you randomly talking about orchestra music. i think you were. that, and the good things in life. yes, that must've been it. then you rested your arm behind her, and she didn't even notice. remember reaching in and kissing her? yes. i believe she described it as one of the softest kisses she'd had, especially as a first kiss. sure, she thought it might happen, but also that the probability was low. i suppose she was more stunned than anything else. that was the beginning of the end of many things, and the first of many things as well. then you leaned in and took her wine glass, you put it on your bedside table. you also spilt wine on her cricket shirt. you used to say you were feeling cold, to get her in bed, she said that cracked her up more than anything else, she did expect you to be smoother, at certain points. she fell asleep at your place, your arm cramped up because of it, but you didn't move while she was having her little nap. remember cancelling and then pushing that dateline back to meet her, grab drinks, supper, and then insist she came over. you called him stupid, then backtracked and said he was a genius. you always called him sean. you kept trying to book gunther's, only because she was dying to try it. you teased her about bee-hive hair, and being too cool, too atas, her ability to make small talk with the chefs. picking her up in your pyjamas didn't quite cut it, but she did gush to her friends about it. you told her that you understood she "didn't want serious stuff now", but just wanted to say that you "seriously like(d) her, alot", that you have six years to get something done, be a partner then or some banker at least, then maybe it'll be easier for the two of you. that you were independent, and just starting out, that being driven and a workaholic was in your blood. you even told one of her friends that she was lucky to have her as a friend. do you have any recollection of that, remember any of it? its difficult to forget the way everything turned out. now that that's said and done, i wish i could have you here. yes, i wish i could have you here, not to be hers, but to be mine. i suppose, that's what i've been looking for.

i miss my mommmmmmmmmy. have received 3 packages from her in the last month :D

I'd be howlin' out a song in the back seat
the boys would laugh and tease about my black feet
they'd tell stories that would warm my soul
Motorbikes and chrome
Jimmy could not wait to get home

Everywhere we went just looked the same to me
the skies were blue and the grass was green
I wonder how different I might see them now
yet I see them somehow

through the fallen memories when that angel baby sings
Oh the little magic that his solo brings
making up songs and words and singin' from the soul
oh the stories told
none but him and Jimmy could know

Homebird sing
fly me high on an angel's wings
Homebird sing
leave out nothing tell me everything

posted by meishi @ 8:02 AM