Snow

This afternoon, I walked out of my normal Tuesday/Thursday Victorian Poetry class completely refreshed. I feel like I'm back to my old self again and noticing the things that I so vividly remember getting completely over excited about.

Here goes....

It's a beautiful day outside and most people would think I'm going completely crazy. But, despite what others think, I'm most obviously not most people. It's a beautiful day outside in Madison and I couldn't be happier with the way things are looking outside at this very moment.

The snow is falling beautifully from the sky and each little flake, with its own design and pattern makes me itch with excitemenmt. They all, from the sky first slowly, then getting faster and heavier, like the sensual expression of kissing. Each flake kisses the trees on State Street and caresses each of us on the street. It's like the first snow all over again and each one makes me giggle inside thinking of spending nights cuddling up in a blanket to keep warm. It makes me think of you. But mostly, it keeps me confined in the aesthetic components of nature and how uplifting something like a simple snowfall can be.

Under normal circumstances, I would be cursing about having to drive in the snow, but today, even as I walked to my car knowing that I would soon have to drive in it, which I thought would ruin my sense of overjoy, I noticed that not once could I keep my face from formulating a smile. Not the kind that you fake on the street for the poeple you accidently meet eyes with, but the kind of smile that I'm almost embarrased to say is the smile that I get when I'm completely in love, completely flattered, or completely overcome with happiness. The kind of smile that you can't hold back, no matter how much you want to and in trying to do so, my smile only becomes more prominent. These transcendentalist views of nature make me feel like one of the great poets or cannonical writers that I can only strive to become.

Perhaps my writing isn't up to the par of the greatest writers of the romantic era that I so envy, but a writer, I will never fail to be. No one can take that away from me and it is intrinsic to me. It is not extrinsic, something that can be stripped of me. A musician, I once was, and that somehow has been stripped of me, if only partially. Because of my own medical problems with my hands, I have had to compromise my aspirations of being a true musician, but being a writer, I will have no one take from me. If nothing else, I write for myself, for my friends who sometimes listen or read, for my parents who wish the best for me, and for the people who read this and find some sort of truth, some kind of emotion, some kind of feeling that will move them, as other writers have done all too many times with me.

Sometimes

There are times when I wish that I could just tell you exactly what I feel...and then there are others that I'm so timid, so bottled up in myself that I can't imagine being so "forward" with you. Everything to me suddenly seems "too forward" and then I keep myself from doing the things that I want to do. I want you. I feed off of you. I want you sleeping next to me, waking up with me in the morning, kissing my neck, kissing my lips...I'd die for you to just put your arm around me or hold my hand, but I let everything subside because I want to know exactly how you feel first. I can't tell you the things I think about you and I know that there's no way you'd be reading this. No possible connections through you and all I can do is sit here and think about the times we've had together and so many of those times that I've left our business unfinished.

The night we played checkers, I wanted to just grab you across the table and kiss you all over. I've always wanted someone to be the one doing that to me, but quite frankly, that can't be the first move that you make on someone when you're a woman. When you're a women, the notions have to be subtle...until the relationship is serious. Once you're at that point, anything goes.

I want to be in that place. I want our little dates to go further...I want you to take me in your arms and tell me that you think about me when we're not together, that you want to take this further, that I'm not just wasting my time thinking about you... :-/

If I could tell you that I feel so strongly about you, I would. But I've got it all bottled up inside me like some little child, waiting, wishing, hoping.

I want you to take me, push me up against a wall...tell me you can't wait any longer, that you can't resist. I like you so much...and I've got all these pictures in my head.

When you were over at our apartment the other day, you were holding Rufus like a baby and I was fussing with Ru and just looked up at you thinking, wow, what if this was our child? All I wanted to do right then, at that very moment, was kiss you. When we were looking out my window at the different buildings, all I wanted to do was turn to you and kiss you. Just to have you close to me. When you were looking out the deck door and put your head next to mine trying to see the same view I had... You were so close. We were so close. THe thought of you kissing me was lingering over my tongue, making my lips instantly tingle with excitement as the mere thought of it makes me uneasy in my seat.

You're making me so uneasy in my seat. You're so gorgeous...so beautiful.

Movies, Movies, Watch all about it!

I'm crushing. I'm gushing. I'm... laughing my ass off at how ridiculous that sounds. Nonetheless, I'm comfortable with crushing. and gushing. (Note to self: again, ridiculous.) I'm flying high on mere thoughts.
I've known you for years and have had a childhood crush on you since...but since I had lost contact with you for a few years, things seemed to subside and there was no thought of even the possibility of you. I've always thought your allure was spectacular and the way you speak; I get so excited listening to you talk. We talk about everything and anything and none of it seems strange. It's so...comfortably sexy. You're so beautifully sexy. [Pan onto picture of planner on desk].

I love stability, I love order, I love that safe feeling of someone who can complete that. I adore you. I love your little quirks, the way you make everything fun and exciting. The way that coffee turns into a movie, which turns into dinner...so cute. [PAN CAMERA LEFT TO RIGHT THROUGH SMALL FRENCH-STYLE COFFEE SHOP, SMALL MOVIE THEATER, SMALL BISTRO STYLE RESTAURANT, LIGHTING IS DIM.]

If I don't see you this week, I might not know what to do with myself...

Ok. That's enough of me sounding like a little school girl full of emotions.

[Enter Reality.]