his heart pounds. one week, so close, yet so far away. he can almost close his eyes and be that week away. the only problem is that when he closes his eyes it's just an image, he doesn't really have her in his arms. with six weeks distance he doesn't know what exactly to expect. he knows that his heart will be completely happy for the first time since she left, that he can't wait. he doesn't know just how exactly those emotions will play out with his mind, if he'll come to a conclution on the question pondering his mind this whole time. and will he finally grow the balls to start actually living life outside of his head as who he really is?one week, and he's a nervous wreck.
the grandmother points out every girly pair of shoes she can find, she tries to convince him that he would look amazing in thigh high boots and a short skirt, tries to get him into see through blouses. he shutters. how does he tell her without breaking her heart that he doesn't want anything to with any of that crap? and make it stick so she doesn't just try again next time. then he looks inside himself and sees there is this part of him who wants to prance around in feathers and glitter and crazy patterns that could only be pulled off by the most hipster girlies. he wants to run barefoot through forests and watch the flowy layers fly behind him. he wants to fuck everyone over and combine earthy elements with rainbows and neon fishnets and combat boots tougher than bulls. then there are times he just wants to go drool over ties he'll never get the chance to wear. these things that are forbidden by society, by his family, by the wondering eye.
a recent conversation with a friend lead him to thinking, what is this all anyways? why do we fight so hard to plan every moment of our lives and be told what to do by people who believe themselves superior? we could just go, keep moving, keep jumping trains and crashing on floors of beautiful strangers. we could forget the world of technology and live away from the ugliness of humanity. we could make it easy, make it beautiful. we are taught to conform and take part in these atrocities. that friend makes it all seem so possible, gives him a hope of ever letting the world take control of him and breaking all the fucking limits that society has placed on him. there is a hope to let happiness provail. he feels a little bad about it, but he missed this friend, one of his best friends. he watched them fall deep into the pits of love and couple bubbles. he had all their conversations turn to pointless words exchanged to try and keep a friendship burning bright. they are done, want out, and now he has his friend again, the one who makes the future seem like a good place. this is the one who can make his passion for life explode. it's good to have that again.
<3 <3
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