5:43 p.m. | 2005-01-10
We Live In A Beautiful World
It's not a good thing that I get physically ill at the thought of him being back in town.
It's a bit strange, I must admit, that he hasn't called me to tell me that he's back in town--but all signs point to go. Perhaps I shouldn't have called him, I should have waited for him to call me but I couldn't help myself. And afterwards, after I left the message, after I thought about what it said, after I realized what I'd just gotten myself into...I about died.
Maybe it's because I haven't eaten since 11, but I'm beginning to get scared. I'm running around my room cleaning up and doing my hair and trying on new make-up. When just hours ago I was contentedly outside taking photographs for a project and now I'm sitting here in a twitterpated ball waiting for him to call.
I lean over and look at the display on my phone, making sure I haven't missed him.
I had been spending so much time recently just thinking about how I'll be when he gets back. Whether I'll be forceful and mature. Or cute and demure. Or whether I'll avoid him all together. Or end it for once. But none of these options seem to be panning out and I'm not sure I want them to.
I missed him. So much. Wanted his arms next to me for so long and he's here now and...I'm not sure.
