hump, hump! (and a draft from april 17th that insists on being stamped today, the tramp! because his eyes are the zenith of wizardry, his kisses are pretty fun and something broke what was broken inside me so i'm responsive against my will, my brain dealing the blows my mouth just won't, and it is just so much nicer to paraglide right into a guy's balls with a swift kick back into the primordial oohs--and he checks women out like crazy, does not stop, and it leaves me wondering why he's here, and what makes me think he's not going to skip away as soon as he figures i've run out of positions....)
it kills me not to point out that it's errands, not errons. and things make me smile because i can see right through that veil. but life and love are so much more than spelling, aren't they, tori? the delicacy, the taste, the option of latex!...and the delicate handling of the fragile male ego, the slightest slight possibly derailing it all--the bile must stay in my stomach, not corrode what i have standing in front of me--
--and being with david, it's all such a surprise, as if that was prep for this...because now i'm so chill--
--but right now the biblical reference, the tumescence, it isn't that, it's his his, and i can't quit worrying, because anaphylactic shock is fucking fatal, in something so small it's really just not something i could imagine risking, and one can seem just fine with just a rash or hives until suddenly it's not breathing--and i'm not sure: am i just being fatalistic?
but the thing is, it terrifies me: it's all too real, and he would never be the same, and it's all too new for me to cope with that, or for him to want me to, and the precarious fragility of one small thing, the fragility of another left missing a half...i don't belong, i'm just an interloper on the outer banks, but this makes me need to want to.
so in a nutshell, i've invested a small library, and sometimes i love him back...but the mess and the scribe adorable i'm invested in too, and that's bigger than i bargained for.