sleepyskin's Diaryland Diary

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

laughing, laughing, laughing... crying.

Sleep sometimes rids me of hurt. Sleep sometimes lets me leave my pain in dreams, in tornados or mad dashes from things I cannot see. Not last night. I tossed. I turned. I smelled him in my sheets, on my hands, in my skin, as if I were stained with his very being. Like a curse, his presence will not leave me, or maybe I will not let it go. I thought of him, sleeping, in his new bed, one we did not share.. but the sheets, the ones we rolled in, laughed in, found each other in - those were mine, too. We came in those sheets. I laid naked, vulnerable, open, angry in those sheets. Blue and tan plaid, flannel, warm, and often dirty. Often riddled with my hair, my cum, a stray sock or bra... those were my sheets too. We sat and talked for hours on that bed; religion, philosophy, our relationship, laughing, laughing, laughing... crying. I would lay there, watching him type, rythmically, fast, strong, determined, wishing he'd put forth the same exuburance towards me, laying there, watching, waiting, wanting to be touched, held, touched, laughing.

Dinner with my parents this evening - another drive out to Carstairs... another drive past where I pulled over to run in the field. I wanted to run in a field. I wanted to feel free, I wanted to feel indestructable, I wanted to feel powerul. I ended up feeling alone.

laughing, laughing, laughing... crying.

1:08 PM - August 20, 2000

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

previous - next

latest entry

about me

archives

notes

DiaryLand

contact

random entry

other diaries:

sourcandies
doug
obscured
coffeebitch
kaffeine
jeffy
well
rhetoric
rainandfire
ann-frank
mymetrocard
bathsheba
slit
aves
molu4
dougstewart
pip
dictation
donnaisblue
withkerth
polyprincess
tealeaf5
worldforgot