I Wanna Touch You.

I want to touch Sean.

I want to touch him so bad it's all i can think of most days.

Ever since sunday I have been consumed with thoughts of being with him in every which way.

This desire is becoming somewhat of an issue lately because i am developing strong feelings for this boy.And not in an Art Boy, or Music Boy or McDreamy sort of way. I have seen this boy cry. I have yelled and been yelled at by him. I have touched and been touched (playfully) by him using hands and face. We have hung out outside of work. He made me a mother fucking vampire stake. The night before our lunched he called me on his break because he wanted to tell me a funny story. It was ten o'clock and I was just getting ready to play the Sims when my phone rang. I saw it was from the job and thought maybe the wanted to tell me to come in early on sunday or something. So i picked up the phone and the voice on the other end said 'yo' as if i'd recognize who it was off the back. And i did, because i know the sound of his voice like my own. He has a faint accent (he's from the bronx) and speaks with this very soft cocky authority. I tried to play it cool though (who is this) but he knew that I knew it was him. He had a really funny story to tell me and couln't wait until Sunday to tell me this, that's why he called. And for 15 minutes he relayed the stroy with excitement pausing where he knew i'd laugh.

Who calls someone to tell them a joke they'll think is funny.

Le sigh. I want to touch this boy. And be with this boy. And...be....with....this...boy.

And when I got off the phone with him, because he had to go back to work, that's all i can think of.

He is not my typical crush. He has sandy blonde hair and blue eyes and is sort of a jock. He tells disgusting jokes and has a temper. He is abrasive and cocky and says things before thinking. And yet, around me he is kind and considerate and funny. He quotes lines from movies and sings songs he hears on the radio. He lets me massage his hands when they hurt and if we have breaks together we share of mug of ice coffee that he piles with marshmellows because i like them.

Yes, I know i am walking a really really dangerous line with the boy and my desire from him. Yes i know this we have the sort of interactions that should not happen between me and a boy with a girlfriend. I know this. I do. But it's hard to explain all that i am feeling for him without sounding crazy. The best expalantion at the moment is...that I am looking to make a mistake with him because i know the relief, though short and fleeting, will feel good. He is the distraction I want from everythinng. He is attractive and smart and he likes me. So I am being selfish and unsafe with my emotions, I know this,  and yet, I want to touch him. I want to have him touch me. I want him to tell me his thinks i'm pretty again. I want him to find comfort in my voice. I want him to call me at fucking 10pm to tell me a story. I want to have him all to myself. And it literally pains me that this is not the case.

I keep replaying our lunch on sunday in my head. The scene and dialogue never change but i am examining everything from a different angle now that I've had time to think about it. For instance we talked about sex briefly. He is privy to my lack of experience in the sex department but I have never and will never admit my virginity to him. I don't want him to hold it over my head. I don't want him to think I am a frigid, no sex wanting ,virgin mary. Because that is not the case. I don't want to give him the impression that i am holding out for religious reason. Because that is not the case. But it's hard explaining to someone, who has had a handful of sexual partners, that my 'former' relationships and lack of sex is related to anxiety.

Because....i....want....to....have.....sex.....with....him. I want this to be an actuality without any consequence.


At one point during lunch though, he complained about his facial hair. It's not a beard or anything, he just hasn't shaved in a couple of days. He turned around and looked in the mirror and complained that his gf wasn't a huge fan of the look. I don't like when he brings up his gf for several reasons. His gf ain't me, for one, and because i don't want to say anything that will make it seem as if i am putting her statement or preference down. But i love the scruff on his face. I like the masculinity it brings to him. I like the way it feels when his face touches mine. I like it alot. So I told him this.

And while he thinks I am terribly repressed and rigid and that my sexual inexperience is related to lack of sexual desire for him (if he only knew) i admitted, then, that I am attracted to aspects of men that make them men. I like the brillo like feel of their facial hair. I like the way they smell. and walk. and carry themselves. I like strong backs and how rough their hands are. And i like that when you touch them, their bodies react automatically; that our touch can stun even the strongest of men. He seemed to like this answer as much as i liked telling him.

On the walk back to the store there were several confessions made. One that he would date me if he weren't attached to the hip. And two that his attraction, to me,is sexual as well. That it is very very sexual. And I couldn't take it man. I can't have him confess these things without being able to reach out and touch him and tell him that i feel the same way. And it's so terrible to want the things you can't have. To be in this constant state of desire for someone who is much better at playing it cool than you.

Kat is no help in the advice giving department. She currently has a crush on the young married preacher who works at our store. We are in the same' longing to be with the one we cant have' stage that has consumed our thoughts and conversations. But i feel so connected to this boy, i wonder daily if he feels the same way. I mean obviously he would have sex with me ( 'i am really really 'attracted' to you'), obviously he would date me if he weren't with his girl but is he smitten with me? He brings up things that makes me think he is or has been. He offered to pay for my tattoo, he bought me a harmonica (because i played it as a kid), he attempts to be around me a lot, he apologizes when he fucks up. He hates apologizing.

He came to work angry as hell one day (his cousin was in the hospital, doctors weren't sure if he was going to make it). He spent the whole day, fuming and yelling at people and being a terror. When i bumped into him he avoided me, told me to stay away from him that day and stormed out of the room we were in. I, being a girl, ignored this. When i ran into him again, I asked if everything was okay, I asked if we were going to ignore each other the whole day or was he going to come to me like a friend and tell me what was up. He looked miserable. Near tears again. But those angry boy tears that just sit in their eyes.

We were standing in the hallway again, our favorite place and he told me that I need to just leave it alone. I needed to stop caring about what was going on with him because i couldn't fix it. I started to tear up and I told him I couldn't do that because i don't know how to be friends with people, i'm still learning how to do that again, and that I care about him and wanted him to know that i gave a shit. If he didn't want to talk that was cool but i wanted him to know that I gave a shit enough to ask if things were okay.

He didn't say anything. He stared at me. Let out a deep sigh. Brought his hands to his face. And then stormed away, asking me to please leave him alone once more. That night i went home and cried. The next day, he came up to me and asked if we could have a minute alone. We went somewhere private and he apologized for how he acted. He told me about his cousin. He told me about his anger issues. And he told me that i don't ever deserve to be treated like he treated me that day. That my opinions and concerns and 'voice' matter. And then i massaged his wrist because he said he hurt and he asked if we were okay and i nodded my head silently as i massaged the knot in his hand away.

Fuuuuuuck. What's a girl to do!!!!!

It is these moments between us that drive me crazy. When he displays these very rare and sincere emotions towards me that i take to heart. I keep hoping that he feels at least a little of what i feel for him every day. That he wants to touch me as much as I want to touch and have him. And tomorrow we close together and I'm going to have to play it cool and forget that he said he would be with me and have sex with me and care about and for me if he could knowing that I am willing and ready for all of this to happen.

Fuuuuuck.

Mush Brain

My thoughts are all over the place.


And because of this writing about my thoughts has become tough.

I have so much to say and yet i am struggling to find comfort in writing my feelings down.
My mom asked me the other day if I still kept an online journal (she knows about this space but luckily is not computer savvy enough to ever find it) and I told her "sort of, but i haven't written in it lately". She asked why and i told her because i don't know how to write anymore. She told me that didn't make any sense. Of course I know how to write. I've been doing it my whole life. And she retold the story, of which i have heard a million times, about the time my 6th grade English teacher told my mom my writings made her happy. That i wrote the sort of things that made her want to sit down in front of her fireplace to read my thoughts. My mom was so proud, and so surprised all at the same time. That girl, she said, that girl has not gone away.

But instead of agreeing with her I told her that my perspective on things are so different now that the tone of my writing has changed. That while that girl is still here, she is sooooo different, her writing has changed with her. And because of this i am struggling to find my voice amongst the change. I'm struggling to make sense of my thoughts now as the way i see things continue to evolve.
I hate admitting this. But this truth is all i have.
It's not that I don't have things going on to write about. Cause i do! So many things actually. Friend things. Job things. Sean things.Life things.New York City things. All of these things are complicated as hell and a pain to deal with but they are things I want to readily write about. I also have so many not so great things to write about. Anxiety. Depression.Grief. But i don't know how to put them all down anymore. I just don't.

Writing has always been about honesty for me. About an awareness of my surroundings and attempt to understand things. But me at 26 is so fucking different from me at 19 that i feel so conflicted about my surroundings and feelings about them. There is an edge to me now that i am afraid to embrace and talk about. The things i want and need to be honest about are so new that i feel anxious while experiencing them and even writing about them: boys, sex, desire, grief, the need to belong, the desire to be left alone. I'm not sure how to write it all down. And it's not to say i won't get back to the place where i was comfortable with doing this...but it's been harder than i thought it would be.

I've been attempting, for my own good, to be a part of the world.  It's weird. There was a time when I was okay with being a loner. Where I was okay with my routine. Because now i am terrified of this. There are nights when I replay my first phone conversation with Marie's mom, they day she died, and her telling me, through terrible sobs, that when they picked her up to move her back home (after she was laid off) they walked into a mess of an apartment. "it was so disgusting. I couldn't believe it".

Marie was against people visiting her house. When I think back to it, I've never actually been to her place. In high school. college. or post college. Ever! I mean i visited her dorm once or twice. And I knew where she lived cause we always drove by it. But she was so guarded about her living space. She use to tell me all the time that the one friend she had in North Carolina would ask to visit her place all the time. But she wouldn't let him. She was much more comfortable in environments other people created. And anytime she did mention her apartment it was always to complain that after two years of living there she still was unpacked.

I bring this up only because when I was in college, i described my anxiety as a house. As this place that was far away from people and interactions and disappointment. Except the house worked against me more than it did for me. I built anxiety to house my depression and my fears of being a disappointment to people. I was afraid of letting anyone in because of the mess they'd find. And when Marie's mom told me that her apartment was in disarray, it clicked that Marie was doing the same thing. Except her house was her enemy more so than her friend.

 And I don't want to do that anymore. I don't want to shut people out from this person that I've becoming.

Cause I'm a mess. And i get sad. and irrational. But I also have incredibly good days. Where i am  happy. And silly. And adventurous. Cause while I miss the shit out of Marie, while I think of her every day, I am afraid of ending up like her. I'm afraid of not being able to see a future for myself through the pain and the anxiety. I'd rather feel crazy about life, boys and general anxiety than to not exist at all.

So I'm attempting to feel everything these days (not all at once of course). And some days it works for me. Sometimes i feel like my brain is a mush ball of emotions. But I'm embracing it because it keeps me going. Recently I've made some friends, gone to some bars, cried on a few shoulders, hugged cute boys, gone to church (a looong story), eaten a lot of cupcakes, joined a zumba class (a looooong story) and developed insanely crazy feelings for Sean.

We went to lunch today. He asked me to lunch! I was heading home after my shift and he was taking his break. He asked if i wanted to grab burgers across the street. He'd pay for me. So we went, and because I'm insecure around him, i figured he would buy our burgers and I'd walk him back to the store so he could eat his hamburger alone while i went home to eat mine. Because why on earthy would he want to hang out with me, despite how close we have gotten lately. But he wanted to sit down and talk because he didn't want to go back to the store. So we ate lunch, while I propped my legs across from his and took sips from his cup of ice tea (which he was willing to share).

 We talked about movies and relationships and sex. We discussed work, anger and childhood. When we were done I walked him back to the store, which is a few blocks away.  I skipped along to his long strides. He said it was weird getting older. I agreed. He said  it's weird how different he is from the boy he was. I agreed. And related. He asked about my insecurities. The ones I mentioned at lunch. About not feeling good enough some days. He said he couldn't believe I'd ever feel that way about myself. I said it was hard to explain. He said girls are difficult like that, no need to explain. He got silent for a moment. I stared up at his face. I like his face, especially when he doesn't shave. When he spoke, breaking the silence, it was quick and direct, that I almost didn't catch his words. He said, to the space in front of us, that if weren't tied to the hip (with his gf), he'd date me because he liked being around me. Silence. He doesn't feel that way about a lot of people. Silence. I blushed and told him he shouldn't say that to me because I'd take it to heart. He blushed and said 'i'm just telling you the truth. I'm sorry".

I wished him goodbye at the doorway. I lost my shit on the way home. I cried and laughed at the absurdity of my life. That moments like this: shocking and gentle are happening a lot lately. And that I am secretly grateful for them all.

Boy oh boy, things are weird and new around here. And if you bear with me, as i try to break this writing block  i promise I'll work on being more honest about these experiences here. Cause I'm still that girl with the dumb musings but my perspective just happens to be a little different these days. I am focusing on my external life first before my internal one. And I'm not sure if am doing anything right these days. I feel clumsy and curious about everything around me. But i must admit it feels nice experiencing all of these things no matter how confusing and difficult it is for me to put them down on 'paper'.

~Beckett.

Movie, Hamburgers, Park.

My weekend was pretty fucking amazing.

I can't lie. This summer I have a lot of things planned. I want to explore more. And take advantage of where I live. And despite being dirt poor i'd like more visits to the city that involve indie movies, food and parks. A lot of parks.

For now here are some pictures of my day. Some days i feel like a lucky girl.

Tomorrow a real post. I promise.

Hanging in There.

Sorry I've been away.

Writing has been a little tough these days. Which sucks because I have so much to say.

A lot has happened. I'm still at my shit job, naturally, but socially things are different. I'm attempting to be a human being again. No more of this numb Beckett shit. I miss feeling things. I desire to be a part of things. But this is more complicated than I thought.

My emotions are all over the place lately. I'm growing up and feeling the pains of getting older. Of wanting relationships. stability and sanity.

Writing it all down would help. It will help. Like it always has. Being able to write what i feel has been a life saver. But I guess i am in the weird stage where I am trying to find and understand my voice again. I guess that's why writing, in and out of the blog world, has been a struggle.

But i will write again. And soon.

I promise.

~Becks