le rouge sublet: leigh & phee
Once upon a fucking time I think we were about a week No. Wait.. Two weeks. We were like two weeks into the first time you dropped over my stupid house which was a fucking disaster because you fell asleep at my place and I got pretty fucking done in watching you sleep on the bed and I hadn't touched you and I had Anthony drive you home cause I was too done and in hindsight I still wonder why the fuck I picked Anthony.
By now my phone was always on silent because otherwise it was basically going off constantly all fucking day and I'd be trying to chill with people or have some piece of mind or rub it out or whatever and it would just go off but I was starting to think the silent option was worse cause I kept it on vibe which was creating this weird Pavlov fucking thing and it was all basically just a fucking problem.I was on the floor with my back against the couch staring at the ceiling with the phone in front of me in my hand and I was thinking about how I gave you my address so you wouldn't get my number but that failed because you came to my place so I gave you my number so you could warn me next time
"I migh be fuckin out or somethin"
"I could wait? I like your place."
"It could be rainin"
"I like rain, silly."
"I could be in the fuckin shower"
"I like showers too."
And it was the way you said it and your mouth did this little thing along with your eyes and it made my skin tighten up and my hands crawl and I was always getting stomach aches now from you and I was taking stuff for it from Al and it was becoming like some psychosomatic thing where when you said something suddenly I was chewing kava and blackberry like it was going to change a fucking thing. Like it was going to change that you knew damn well you said and did shit that drove me forward that nearly had me pinned to the porch railing reaming you but I still had a billion reasons excuses whatever not to do a damn thing and it was like you skirt and shorts always got shorter every time I saw you and your body got fuller looking and you always seemed a bit more wild and like somebody'd been suckin on your lips but no one was but you were biting them all the damn time so maybe that was it. But what killed me worst was that you knew what you were doin to me but at the same time it was like you didn't know at all and you were always acting like you were doing shit wrong so then you'd talk more and I'd talk less and
"Sooooooooooo I think I'm gonna skip again? 8P 83 0_0 ^u^;;"
... exactly how many emoticon things could a person put in a single fucking line? That wasn't even a lot for you. But I was thinking more that you were saying that I was pretty sure because you were saying you were going to come over. I think. I wasn't actually sure. I was pretty fucking sure but if I said "Nah don't" you might get your feelins hurt or if I was like "I'm out" you'd probably know I was fuckin lying through my teeth but if I WENT out I'd just go to Al's or even to the school and both of those didn't make you disappear and so I just stare at the text and then sigh and put it down again and bounce the back of my head off of the couch cushions a few times like that's gonna change a damn thing either.
I know this progression. I hold out and you either say way less or way more or you do just head over and I've been pretty fuckin successful at avoiding the later lately but then again you also got my ass on the phone a few times and I hate the phone. I hate it. I hate talking into it and I only use it for business and even then it's like "Yeah/nah" and that's basically what most of the phone conversations are. You talking nonstop and now and then I say a sound or a thing or ask a question but I never ask right and I have to repeat things or you're on another planet as usual so same deal and the talking sucks for me but I get to hear you without being here and being a problem though I want you to be here and be a problem it's just when you get here the problem's actually me and that's why this'll never work.
Worse is when you ask me questions. Usually trivial random shit that I think you do want me to answer but you just keep talking past it anyway so what do I know, but then you suddenly ask this random deep ass thing or something that I actually have to think about and I don't want to think, especially about anything you're askin me, because then my stomach flips again and I get like ice and I feel like the biggest fuckin idiot on this fucking planet and then I'm kicking myself and you get so fucking quiet waiting and maybe I mutter something but maybe instead I don't or I laugh and say something that doesn't even fit right and I can hear the disappointment in your fucking voice when you change the subject so it's easier on me but I want to be able to answer you and say these things to you. I just can't.
And then sometimes it's late or you're skippin or you're in a bathroom somewhere and then everything about hating the phone goes out the window and I love the phone and I want you to come over and maybe that's why I keep doin this but I don't think so. That's not everythin. I don't think. I dunno.
No. No I do fuckin know and I'm lyin to myself but that's easier than actually going along with this.
I think.
"I guess I'll be there in like 30? *kissuuuuuuuuu#^u^#uuu??*"
I could stop this all now. Or I could say something like "yeah". But I don't.