Commandeer. v.

"If it's not like the movies, that's how it should be, yeah. When he's the one I'll come undone and my world will stop spinning."

You think that a day or two's break between big things is a good idea. It lets a person recover from seeing you, lets them breathe and actually start to miss you. You hope it works, hope that they don't think you're ignoring them, - that's not the purpose of it at all.

"Heavy is the head that wears the crown, don't let the greatness get you down."

You're making some ground, finally. You're getting somewhere. What you want keeps coming closer and closer, but like a wild brumby, or a meek fox, it spooks, it runs, and you have to stalk it again. Patience is your best weapon, yet impatience is your ghost. So many things would be so much easier if you were older, if this was over.

And so, we wait...

ELABORATE a.

marked by complexity and richness of detail; "an elaborate lace pattern".

You're a good kid, aren't you?

Firstly, you lent a friend a hundred dollars because graduation money is due, and she forgot hers. It was a generous thing to do, but Dad's crappy with you. You think he was just trying to be the Dad around the place because people were over.

You helped two people get together last night as well, then you gave them something to do with their time after. Then in the morning you made them breakfast. How nice you are.

WAKING

n; the state of remaining awake

marked by full consciousness or alertness.

You went to bed at 2am because you're helping a friend get through their relationship stuff, nonetheless, you had a pretty interesting day at school.

So your friend gets her nose pierced while you're off doing whatever you were doing last night. She comes to school today and has to take it out, being that it's against school rules. When you see her in first period, it's red and she's upset, on the verge of crying. You and another friend try to help her, and take her to the bathroom, where she tries to put it back in but it's hurting her. She wants you to put it in because you've got a nose ring. Like that makes you an expert...

So you stick your finger up her nose and eventually get things where they should be. You both want to be sick. You need sugar or something, since the pit of your stomach is churning. Yuck. At least she's happy.

JUBILANT.

adjective: exultant: joyful and proud especially because of triumph or success.

You wouldn't call it success or a triumph, but you do feel pretty damn amazing. Once again. Tonight was something slightly new, a Christening of sorts, and a first or two as well. You were nervous in the lead-up perhaps because you hadn't seen this person in months, or perhaps because something else in the back of your head was saying 'be careful' - though, you think option A is more applicable.

Your leg shook, first from nerves, then from the cold, then from excitement. In about two hours, you managed to feel about fifteen different emotions. And it's left you with this one massively satisfied idiot-smile. If you were toothless, you'd look like a scrambled-brain hobo. Attractive image, isn't it?

You were driving well tonight. All smooth and coasty. Like the whole night in general. Everything worked out. You always go into these things with a gut feeling about the outcome. The internal decision maker that says yes or no without consulting your brain or heart. If your heart had had any say, it would've been yes regardless.

You know you love more than one person, and you could see yourself with the both of them, but the way love works - well, society works, it's completely irrational. It makes perfect sense, and yet it's not allowed. But that's fine. Things are what they are.

You spent a glorious day out in the sun today, working on your tan. It was the most perfect day, barely any breeze, not a cloud in sight, and some lovely Bio-oil to simultaneously help you tan and repair your skin. It seems a bit redundant, with one cancelling the other out, but it was fine. The pictures are average, however.

You told your other lover how happy you are, and you wonder what he's really thinking. Is he jealous or excited or what? Sometimes it feels like he holds back how he's feeling, despite knowing that his are the only feelings that have any weight with you. Funny how things are messed up when it comes to caring about someone else.

Now you're wondering where things are heading, and how long they'll last. He said that come November, things will be better, different. It's interesting how a date can make all the difference, how 17 and 11 months isn't enough, but 18 is. How strange. Either way, no matter how it turns out, you're eager to be free to go places, to be to live. Yay.

SHIMMER

Verb: a faint or veiled gleam or shining, a glimmer.


Sometimes the things you think are pretty and sparkly are sharp and bitter things, and often we don't see that these things have the ability to hurt us. We tend to let ourselves stray from our usual selves when the prospect of somthing nice and shiny appears. Funny that.

But the cotton candy is so sickly sweet, and we'll more often than not buy it. It's like predestination, fate, that we cannot turn away from the things we know make us terminally ill. And not ill in the sense that you'll die physically, rather, the sense that your whole world will experience an earthquake, should they choose to leave it. It's hardly fair, but as they say: life's not fair.

Nor does it have to be.

The good will usually outweigh the bad, where bad occasionally crops up. The good is fantastic, actually. The good is how you felt today (since you're adding to the post from yesterday). It's the pull of your hair, and the mark on your cheek, and the gasping of your throat as the love tries to fight it's way out, while you choke on the words that'll give you away. Bad is the worry that you've done something to annoy them, the fear that they might suddenly stop wanting you anymore. Your company, your love.

They virtually own you, but is ownership if you voluntarily give yourself to them? They say it'll be different soon, sometime. Be better. More time, more loving, more sun, more space. Maybe it will be, but there will be that question remaining - what are we? It seems futile, this benchmark to be reached before anything is official. You've seen though, how fast things go by, how fast 8 months have passed, and how it will continue to pass. It's nothing really, no time. But when they're gone, you'll know it like a bullet wound in your side. You'll clutch at the hole, hoping that it'll close, yet knowing that it won't heal until they're back again. You wish you could go with them.