me vuelvo impaciente
cuando llega el amanecer
absorvo todos los tés de
todas las tardes.

I like the weekends better, and it shouldn't be surprising.
But it is.
Anyway, one is almost starting today.

I like to see how his brain works. Not a good thing to say out loud, though.
what is it that bothers me and puts me off? don't really know if I wanna find out.
is it the Alex thing? it dones't annoys me that much. just a bit.
it's probably the Alex thing. Only he's got some things to even things up.
On the other hand, he's never called me kitten, so..

Oh but he has called me babe. Wonder why I like it so much.
He does keep me waking the walls.

It feels like the ghosts are just following some boring old routine.
Same old, I do miss them, I do freak out, but, they just aren't trying hard at all.
Not at all.

Funny. That little sparkle of life I'd thought I'd seen in j.
Is oh, nothing more than a full personality here. Dude.
Still he really really is too young. Next girl's fucking lucky. You know, exept for his ex.

And oh, men. Full personality and oh my god, yet he's just soo in love,
they turn into, well,
kittens.

like dylan in the movies.

Yeah you're worth the trouble, and you're worth the pain
and you're worth the worry, I would do the same
If we all went back to another time
I would love you over
I would love you

watching over the emtpy battlefield

So, insomnia. It kinda sucks. But
at least there are no dreams. Damn.

I though it would come eventually, but honestly I had forgot.
Without the despair, without the fear of what will come
when life doesn't seems to be crumbling anymore
or all the pieces have already fallen, waiting to be rearranged
(much like my bedroom floor)

Now I miss him. And now I can appreciate him.
Now it hurts in a much more subtle way, and it seems to linger on.

que es un soplo la vida..

She's making dinner for two (three?) while he's playing guitar, taking a shower, or god knows what.
She's singing a song while watching the rice (her son playing on the kitchen floor).

"Mi vieja cantaba, a veces, un tango, y sus ojos se llenaban de otro lugar"

dreams.

Oh my god, I can almost see it. Can you?
Close my eyes and.. there it is.
A house full of light. The sound of children laughing.
A home made piece by piece. A life.. together.

Let it rest for a little while.
It's just a dream.
And today's well worth to be lived.

So keep it stored as a beautiful wish until the time comes.

trying to get it off my head.

- The thing is, if you were in fact in love with her, which you haven't
denied -repeatedly-, so I'm assuming you were, why did you avoid telling me
about her? It's not like I didn't ask.

I know it's nothing. I know I'm being irrational and I know it would be the stupidest thing to ruin something this good over a stupid little thing on his past, specially when we've overcame mine. But, then again, I haven't got the slightest idea if it's just a stupid little thing.
First love is no stupid little thing. Although, many times it is sorta stupid.

Rambling calms me. The Chandler thing, pf.
I just can't get it out of my mind. And I am, god, terrified.

Ooooh please please please deny it. Please please please.

i think he was right.

I'm taking a look at my process.

You know, how did I got to the point in which I was so lonely and fucked up I found comfort on his best friend? I don't think I've wondered that enough.

Anyway, I was checking out my year and it hit me. 

I wasn't unhappy. We weren't disaster. He was right.

Up until the moment I woke up and gained conscience of what I've done, we were on a really good place. We weren't fighting, actually, we had barely fought at all for like, five months.

We were perfectly happy. I mean, not, but I was no sad little girl lost in the woods.

Damn it, I really wish I'd remember that night. It would come in handy to know what the fuck was I thinking.

beautiful and loyal mark darcy.

The most amazing thing happened yesterday.
I was on my typical Bridget's mode, you know, pj's chips and cheese, and that woman thing got me. That paralyzing fear of being alone. But the I remembered... oh my, I'm not alone.
I'm so very glad I'm not alone!
Later in the day, me in the exact same position of course, the phone rang. It rang! And it was him.
He called, just like he said he would. I'm still not over the surprise.
It's not complicated. I don't have to refrain myself from thinking, feeling or saying anything.
I don't have to doubt if he's telling me the truth. I don't have to be looking for someone to forget him.
I don't have to correct people when they say we're together.

It's been so long, and I had gotten used to it.
I don't ever want to get used to something like that again.

And I'm enjoying everything about it like you wouldn't believe.
Every detail, every second. Every word and every silence.
Every part of his self, every inch of his skin.

I'm gonna make it through this day.

     And I'm gonna do it in heels.

..maybe then i can get a good night sleep..

fairy-godmother says.

Not very often, happens that a bad girl lets a good boy in. Now if the boy does his homework, and if she lets him, she may fall for him. And that's when something amazing happens: the bad girl lets down her defenses, opens up and smiles. It's almost mystical, the desire of redemption and the unstoppable need to make the good boy happy.
So the vinegar turns to honey, and a new housewife-wannabe is born.
Sweet little details bloom in every day life, smiling faces on the calendar, maybe flowers on the dinner table. If she can cook, the house will be filled with the smell of home-made cookies or cupcakes. If she can sign, delicious melodies will fly out of her lips. If she goes out, her feet will dance at every corner.
Her smile will be bewitching. Her eyes will always shine. And she'll relive every perfect moment with him in her mind.
She will no longer want to always wear black. And will be thinking of new ways to make him smile.
Oh, she'll be such a good girl for a little while.

and this is where i start to hesitate, where it starts to hurt.

where i'm weak and i look back as a walk away

and i turn to salt.

i have been here before.

on this very day, no wonder.

but i don't wanna be salt.

the temptation to turn around is big, as to stay in my comfort place

to settle for what's familiar. to choose the safe rout i know by heart.

i refuse to settle. i refuse to be a statue.

and there it is, a sunshine waiting for me ahead.

a july morning.

Little girl walking down the street. A green lollipop on her dreamy smile. Turns to look around, stops at a random point and stares with big green eyes. The birds on the trees, the boys going home.
She lies on a street bench facing the sun. She smiles at the leaves and the wind and the sun.

My oh my, would you just look at that girl.

She has been wished good night. And so, she feels she has company enjoying the midday cold.

And in the most platonic of ways, in saying good night, she feels his presence goes with her to sleep.

un kid y esquizofrenia.

bailamos

un vals

al compás de tu love song.

cuando cierro los ojos

y veo los tuyos y escucho

tu love song.

do you follow your head or your heart? la típica.

suerte que no soy tan auto indulgente para creer que me excusa.

suerte?

y esto, no ves, no es lo de siempre.

cuándo me oíste hablar de tu love song?

cómo los tonos tierra ahora de repente

son acordes? y qué carajo sé yo de acordes?

cuentos, lollypops, utopías

es este, como él diría, mi nuevo personaje?

tal vez sea toda esa ingenuidad parte de tu encanto,

es seguro que hay algo en ese arrojo y esa ceguera,

como si el mundo fuera a acabarse..

reconozco a la que era en las palabras, en las ideas

en ese arrojo y esa ceguera. tal vez se trate de eso.

es cierto que estoy tan cansada de tanta bitterness.

qué es, después de todo, lo tan terrible?

diecinueve son solo diecinueve y no suenan tan lejanos a.

porqué no podría tener yo esa frescura y esa energía

de golpearme y golpearme la cabeza contra la pared, como antes.

la ingenuidad viene con esperanza. y no se trata de olvidar.

porqué no, dulzura, entonces, una vez más.

volver a un punto balanceado. recuperar lo que es mío.

ensillar ese caballo y partir, como siempre, sola a mi aventura.

ves? yo nunca diría eso. pero lo hubiera pensado. ah, si lo he pensado.

curioso pero no tanto que una vez más el catalizador sea alguien más.

y por supuesto, tu love song. procuraré llevarla conmigo.

no qué crea ni quiera alejarme de ella. cuidado.

es, después de todo, con quién mejor la paso.

pero como buena droga es inconstante e inconsciente. deja resaca.

y solo dura un rato.

entonces:

qué placer viajar de nuevo contigo, dulzura.

te he extrañado.

a high fall down to earth.

I'm acting like a freaking dumb schoolgirl.

Checking my emails every five minutes. What the fuck am I expecting?

Is this my answer to a bit of interest? How very pathetic of me.

What happened to my decision? It's not an option, remember?

And it's just a song and some puzzling words. And a very nebulous moment.

I'm responsible for what happens. So I need my brain thinking straight.

Just calm down, shut the fuck up and stop acting like an idiot.

I feel like I'm seventeen myself.

a love song.

call me crazy, but it is the sweetest love song i've ever heard.

because what else can it be, than a love song?

in it, his eyes, his smile, his voice, his hands.

telling me.. beautiful.

i want to let it go. i have to let it be.

but how can i resist a love song?

such a beautiful love song.

i should let it go. let it be.

but i have been swept off my feet by a love song.

a secret.

a fading memory

a walk outside

a stolen moment

a shine on the eye

a hand on my back

a feel of his lips against mine

a word of regret

a world of guilt

a link too strong to resist

a closeness so long denied

the looks, the eyes. a cricked smile. the touch of his hand.

this feeling i can't get out of my mind.

the act, the hiding. and anyone knows.

so, so many levels of wrong.

don't speak. don't breath. don't move. just hide.

(part of me wants to shout out loud)

don't do absolutely anything about it. we just can't.