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Quantcast Your Face Gives Me the Diarrhea: November 2009

Your Face Gives Me the Diarrhea

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Location: Huntsville, Alabama, United States

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Wednesday, November 04, 2009

I was thinking about a girl I once knew

I wrote this a couple of weeks ago...

So here I am. Sitting in a time between things at NACA. I wanted to write to you. The subject is misery and some thoughts. I feel a little miserable. I'm not sure how you feel or have been feeling. I can't imagine that your week has gone very well considering the news you shared with me the other day. My misery stems from other places...like broken things. In that regard I think you and I are dealing with our fair shares. Whether it be heart, foot, or fortitude...who knows. But it IS miserable. There's no doubt about that. I had some really sad thoughts on love. Like when/how do you tell someone (not necessarily you, but when/how does one tell someone else?)--I think of how I would like to be told. I imagined standing in the rain on a rocky beach...wind blowing all around--and then I imagined that maybe one day some woman, beautiful in nature, and shapely in figure might walk up and kiss me passionately and smile with a smile like the morning sun...then she would just say it. And I would know in that moment that it were true--and I would say it as well. But life most times is not what we imagine. Seldom times is it bright and starry like that. And when it comes down to it, really all that matters is that it is said. So often it is not spoken. And that is the sincerest damnable misery of love.

...that it is held back or worse--one sided. A few pensive moments have passed. I wonder at times like this, if you know that I am writing to you. I find so often that I write what I cannot say and it comes out confusing. But what is better, a few true and confusing pages--or one elaborately confused and scared conversation that the two of us may never remember once it is all said and done. I'll stick to my pen and paper. If for nothing else, the preservation of my thought in what I say.