l’eau d’issey pour homme

Over Christmas break all you wanted to do was go fishing, but the closest we could get was the fish tank at Cabbalas, and I remember you knew what all the fish were without looking at the signs. Also you had to run up all the stairs and by the time I found you, you were holding a BB gun with a raccoon hat on your head and I swear in that moment you were five years old again.

We had Fongs take-out the that night, and I remember trying to show you how to use chopsticks. We were downstairs in your room, I was sitting in your favorite chair and you were making bad jokes. 

I remember jumping on the couch after you told me not to and I also remember the ten stitches I got in my forehead. (You were right.)

 

It was August when were in your car, just driving, and I was singing to King Charles and you were laughing at me because the convertible and the freeway never went good together.  I still have the list on my phone called 'summerfest 2013' and it contains mostly unwatched movies and crappy Netflix documentaries that I love. (Especially 'Exit through the Gift Shop')

I remember my dog eating the insoles of your friends shoes. So. 

Earlier in the summer you made me this little blue piñata for my birthday, and it was so small that it was actually impossible to break open. But you filled it with confetti, so it's forgivable. Also the fish we bought, and he was really cute until he was dead.

And we were in your kitchen and the radio was on and you asked me to dance and I stepped on your toes more than twice and I remember you telling me how much you loved Van Morrison and I slipped in the Forgotten Puddle of Water we both fell over and there will never be anything as funny.

XXXXXXXXXRothko

This is for You. (But don't read it.)

This is for the New York socialite I envy and for the alarm clock across the street that we can see from your second story apartment. 

This is for the Mormon boys not on missions and for the boys who love someone else. 

(This is for you because even though I want to want you because you're beautiful, I don't.)

This is for me because I'm an Anxious Mess. 

THIS IS FOR MILES TELLER AND THE POPCORN AND TINA FEYS 'BOSSYPANTS'. 

This is for you: singular. This is for the twenty-sixth of April. This is for you because I'm thinking about you like hands think about holding and prison cells think about holding and moms think about folding and how the folds in my shirt think about the iron and how I don't think about ironing at all. 

This is for you because it was 3:20 am on Provo main and I was listening to The Smiths. This is for you because dying by your side is actually a heavenly way to die. (This is for your right eye. You know why. Also sorry.)

Because it was 3:20 and there was no traffic and I still think despite your flaws I won't ever be enough for you and I'm not even sure we are the same religion and that is important to me. 

This is for you because I was counting the stars like the ways we could be together and I couldn't help but think if those stars could somehow align for us there has to be some way for one of my 95 shades to match any one of yours. 

XXR

An epilogue:

(A day before that little crack to the head, with 6.4 seconds left, those seeing-eyes took the opener, adding: "I'm not going to cry about it.")

XX

Rothko 

UPDATE/this isn't actually important

I was supposed to write a 'zero draft' for English about Deaf education but 90% of it is about the importance of finding the right foundation for your skin color and there is no punch line.
Also I wrote this super bangin' post/poem about a boy and I can't post it because said boy knows my blog and I don't want him to read it. It is currently labeled "This is for you; but don't read it" (But I want all of you to read it, so go figure.)
I do however have a pint of pistachio gelato in my freezer and happy about that.
Also I was logged into my personal blog account, and then I got distracted reading Sasha Fierce, and I commented under, like, my actual name, and I know it doesn't matter but I want to hide under a rock or a blanket because it felt wrong.
Also I've been keeping a note in my phone and everyday when I wake up I write a sentence about my dream and regardless of how sane I think I am they're always ridiculous and you should all try it and die laughing with me.

XXXXXXRRRR

Hi

**Friendly reminder that Taylor Lautner once played Sharkboy** 

I have a picture of my dad and I on my dresser and I am asleep on his shoulders and it's my all time favorite. I spent the last hour reading reviews in search of the perfect eyeliner. (right now I'm going with MAC Pro-Longwear) I saw Divergent again last night and that movie will always get me, I think. Speaking of last night: There is literally no traffic at 3:15 am and I can't stop thinking about it/you. Also I want to try sushi and I want to see Spectacular Now and I don't know what I want all at the same time and I forget how old my parents are. Also there is only one pair of socks I can sleep in, and I desperately need a second pair. 

XX

R/M

Letter to A: (part one-thousand)

Its 11:30 at night and we are on the phone and it is last conversation before the Last Conversation. You're talking about your crawfish and it doesn't even matter that you named it Tucker or that your sister is taking care of it and your speech and my focus start to slow until there is just breathing coming from both ends of the phone and we fall asleep. (Something I never told you: Your alarm woke me up that Wednesday.)

XX

Rothko

Prob I need to just calm down

I'm jealous that you talk everynight. 

That she knows you better and she doesn't even live in this state. Of the people who are in a ten block radius.  I've been trying to figure out why I feel so nervous around you but all I can think of is that I would go anywhere if I knew that someday it would lead me back to you. 

XXR