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I'm In My Second Teenhood (or something)

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post #61
bio: vera
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5/28/2005
21:47

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Dying Young

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Dying Young
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Torture. Spies. Dumbass.


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History lessons continue
Friday Night History Lesson
Recommend your favorite poet?
Repeating a rite of passage
Write it over the top she said
Animal House


Favorite Things
drinking
· wines of Oregon
eating
· food I make
listening
· organ blasters
reading
· Fidel Castrol "My Life"
watching
· movies starring Sean Penn



Oh man, he has the most mystical green eyes; orbs worthy of addiction. Every time I lock glances with him--in the hall, across a counter, across a desk, across all kinds of structures, it's--I get warm rushes all over my body and feel as if I am extremely embarrassed and very hot, needing air and circulation. I know my cheeks are blushed, but can't rip my eyes from his. I'm duty-bound to walk, without stumbling, far away to where I belong until he's lost in periphery. If he would look away first, I'd be grateful.

His eyes are green like seafoam candy, like a mountain pool with moss in it's bowl; like Victorian green glass with tiny flecks of amber.

I'm not sure where the source of deep-rooted attraction is billowing from, but it's instinctive and reflexive.

He's twelve years younger than me. I never started anything close to enticement with this man who is too young for my old dreams, not on your wife. I have no idea what he thinks of my stare, but it helps to begin conversing immediately on sight, in order to engage mouth instead of eyes; conversation about his geology classes, his scuba-diving, his forays into marine biology, his son.

When he said his National Guard unit was summoned to serve, I must have looked completely stricken, because suddenly he read my mind and reassured me, "it's in Kentucky, don't worry, I'm not going to be killing anyone or dying myself." Then he didn't have to go, and he was disappointed when he told me, plus he promptly regained 30 pounds. Which just increased his solid rock structure and protective presence.

He blushes, too.

I think it's just a reflex.

He said today he's applying for a research assistant position with some profs, for geological expeditions "all over the world." For the summer. While he takes physics. I said, "fun," but really wondered--and then killed the wonder--if I could go along. As his assistant.

It could be I've been lonely for too long. But something zings through the air when I see him and boomerangs straight back. (Could be he thinks I'm psycho...he feels he must talk to me or I will boil his bunny.)

Alas, I never seem to connect with any guy who is actually available; emotionally, romantically, geographically or physically; as in, single and meeting my requirements, with brains, exuding masculinity, has a car and job, able to return affections legally. This crush is like all the others: safe.

I want to think of him like a brother. No further. Absolutely no further.



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