the round table strikes again
Feb. 2nd, 2007 02:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wellownedbkupAbout Alex.
Too Much:
I feel like I have laid it on too thick for Spencer to handle. I forget sometimes about his history, about the way he was before I met him. He shrugs and ignores me when I ask him about his past, leaving me feeling vaguely adrift and bothered. Feeling like, if we were only closer, if he would only talk to me, we would be so much more.
For all intents and purposes, we started off simply enough. Friendly enough. Tyler and Kyden introduced us at some party or other, and that was it. There were tattoos that were shown between us, both mine and his. He made me wish I was more into tattoos of shapes and color and line rather than words. More art than language. I told him he was blinding me with the art across his chest and back, and all he did was laugh. One laugh and the rest was history. I met him again eventually, blogging online and inviting him round for coffee when he got the chance.
I feel like it is too much for him to talk to me after I am flirting shamelessly with him. There is the slur of me drinking and telling him how pretty he looks in bright bright colors, pink and green and a purple blue bruise color right at his collarbone, like a hickey from someone special in his life. That I could be so much better. He smiles, a little nervously, and tells me to shove off. Tells me to quit staring and moves on to other things—music, friends, fights, drama. He moves on to less touchy subjects so that there is no reason to believe that I am interested in him like that.
It is too much for him because it is just what I am used to by this point. All flirting, nothing serious. All words that spill out, smelling of alcohol and mints and cigarette smoke, and never revealing anything but how shallow I really am. All revealing that I have forgotten the key points about him. That he is a convict, a post-jail kid with too much emotional baggage and too many different people in his past for me to handle. That he is straighter than anyone else that I know in this little town and flirting with a boy is just…
It is too much for him, and he pulls away again and again, fighting and throwing himself into the band and…. I have laid it on too thick, and he will not talk to me anymore. I do not care that he does not see me. I do not care about it at all. But, when you have been so alone for so long, it has to be more than I can ask for to have someone who will be a friend. An honest-to-God, real friend. It is too much to ask for, when I lay it on too thick, and we are too butchered in ourselves to be whole.
Too Much:
I feel like I have laid it on too thick for Spencer to handle. I forget sometimes about his history, about the way he was before I met him. He shrugs and ignores me when I ask him about his past, leaving me feeling vaguely adrift and bothered. Feeling like, if we were only closer, if he would only talk to me, we would be so much more.
For all intents and purposes, we started off simply enough. Friendly enough. Tyler and Kyden introduced us at some party or other, and that was it. There were tattoos that were shown between us, both mine and his. He made me wish I was more into tattoos of shapes and color and line rather than words. More art than language. I told him he was blinding me with the art across his chest and back, and all he did was laugh. One laugh and the rest was history. I met him again eventually, blogging online and inviting him round for coffee when he got the chance.
I feel like it is too much for him to talk to me after I am flirting shamelessly with him. There is the slur of me drinking and telling him how pretty he looks in bright bright colors, pink and green and a purple blue bruise color right at his collarbone, like a hickey from someone special in his life. That I could be so much better. He smiles, a little nervously, and tells me to shove off. Tells me to quit staring and moves on to other things—music, friends, fights, drama. He moves on to less touchy subjects so that there is no reason to believe that I am interested in him like that.
It is too much for him because it is just what I am used to by this point. All flirting, nothing serious. All words that spill out, smelling of alcohol and mints and cigarette smoke, and never revealing anything but how shallow I really am. All revealing that I have forgotten the key points about him. That he is a convict, a post-jail kid with too much emotional baggage and too many different people in his past for me to handle. That he is straighter than anyone else that I know in this little town and flirting with a boy is just…
It is too much for him, and he pulls away again and again, fighting and throwing himself into the band and…. I have laid it on too thick, and he will not talk to me anymore. I do not care that he does not see me. I do not care about it at all. But, when you have been so alone for so long, it has to be more than I can ask for to have someone who will be a friend. An honest-to-God, real friend. It is too much to ask for, when I lay it on too thick, and we are too butchered in ourselves to be whole.
