SharingSecrets

i never cared much for Paris. i've been there before, but wasn't enthralled by the captivating beauty all those lovers find in that dirty looking city. i got lost in the streets of Montmartre and saw the sights from within the Eiffel Tower. i saw the artists and bohemians that roam the streets and i saw the locks representing love on a bridge. it wasn't until he began talking about Paris, even though he never went there that i started to look at Paris with a pair of lovers eyes.

week one - semi your eyes are shades of green and blue and your hands filthy and rough your feet wobbly and your legs completely open (like a wounded bird) you looked like any other twentysomething except you were seventeen - - week two - family you held my hand and guided me through corners and streets and sandy paths. this was your territory though i've climbed it so many times before. you told me about your family, about your divorced parents, about your dying grandmother and later you introduced me to them. they all looked like i was about to run away with their most precious thing. - - week three - bewilderment she knows wha

he stands trembling, his lips are off. his eyes are the saddest i've ever seen. his arms aren't finding the usual spot, folded. "i stood on a bridge this morning" - - coldplays' viva la vida fills the church. it's a sick, sick joke. "i know st. Peter won't call my name." and he just lays there. - - she knows what he means. she only needs words, no sentences. she takes his numb arms apart and hugs him. hard. - - "he will be sorely missed." soft sobs are heard, every pair of lips are trembling and wet with tears. he will be sorely missed. - - he didn't jump. (he just stood. contemplating life.)

this hurts more than when the doctor pulled out both of my teeth without any drug to make me feel numb this hurts more then when she said they had pulled the plug this hurts more than when he looked at me and said he loved her, not me when he said i will never break your heart, though i might make it sting a little i should've just stepped back and danced with someone else instead

he's dancing, smiling, saying "i know all the songs" his eyes lock with her and he just smiles, but the world stops. she caved in. he stands there - hair confused, as if it doesn't know whether it truly belongs to his head. "i don't know, i just don't know. sorry." he takes her hair and makes it looks like the hair of a teletubbie. "you look so magical."

i say sorry too much for the smallest things, but i mean everyone of them. i'm sometimes so insecure that all i can do is smile in fear of saying the wrong words and scare you away. i can be crazy as hell and come up with the stupidest ideas, but they'll be fun. and whenever you say i look pretty i will just smile and shake my head. (i'm trying to learn to accept compliments, but it's so hard to believe people when they say something nice about me, about my looks.) i can imagine how i'm more than a handful. how i can be tiring with my monologues about the second world war or how i fight for my opinions. hell, i can be a stubbor

notice how she walks away as slowly as she can, even a snail could pass her by. she wants to delay the moment, the moment where she'll crawl into her bed alone. again. notice how he grabs her like an eagle catches a prey and how he won't let go until he simply does and pretends she's just a friend; like he's the sea clinging on to dry sand, yet never fully loving it. eventually –if everything goes well- the sea will overrun the little snail and she will grow gills and adapt and he will learn to be gentle as to not break her house.

Dear you, i don't know what it was that made you come over and talk to me. maybe it was because i looked pretty in my dress or that i smiled and your heart warmed up. or maybe it was just the simple fact that i stood alone in a circle of friends. whatever it was, you did come over and you talked. simple as that. you told me silly stories, you told me heartbreaking stories, you told me how your shoulder got broken by some stupid accident. and how that accident caused an early halt for your sports carreer. you told me an awful secret about your family. and i, i told you nothing. i nodded, i smiled and i touched your shoulder as a sign of "i

you are the rain after a monstrous hot day, you are the syrup on my pancakes, the salt to my pepper. you are dark winter nights and blissfully semi-warm spring days. you are whatever you choose to be. you are a grasshopper, jumping around, always looking for an escape. "i respect you more than the girl i had a relationship with for three years." i was dumbfounded. i couldn't comprehend what he was saying so i just stared at my beer. he gently placed his hand underneath my chin and made me look in his eyes. "i love you far too much to risk hurting you. that's why we can't be together tine." you are a boy with blue eyes. you've pretty much

i want to throw you on the bed and make you scream my name several times i want to rip off your clothes and see you thinking "shit, that was my favorite shirt" i want you to desperately cling yourself to me and feel your breath everywhere i want you to look me in the eye and tell me you love me you always have i want to walk to school with you and hear everyone say "didn't i tell you they belong together?" (i want so many things and a lot with you but i'm just a friend)