Blank Sheet of Paper

It’s funny the things I remember. How a simple “aw” crossed someone’s mouth early in summer and made me blush. How nervous I was that one Friday night but then I leaned my weight into the door after I closed it because I was afraid I would faint from ecstasy. How my heart would skip a beat every time a certain act was done. It’s amazing how life throws you off balance like that.

I watched part of One Tree Hill tonight. I guess that's what happens when you have an unusual day off. I remember now though, why I started to watch that show in the first place. The words in the background... Those are the ones that mean the most.

I should have said no. That I want to keep trying.

Have you ever had that feeling in the pit of your stomach. The feeling that something is about to happen, something that will throw your whole world off balance, but you're incapable of stopping it. You feel like a bus is headed straight for you, but your feet aren't getting the message to move the hell back. And then... BAM You're hit. I'm hit. Why couldn't I do anything about it? I wanted to change the outcome. My heart and head were screaming, but my mouth wasn't opening to get that one little phrase out. And then bam. I'm too late.

I don't get hints.

I never thought of my birthday as anything special. Another year gone by. Another list of things I didn't get done. Another list of things that I've done wrong. Despite this, I've always been excited for my birthday. The usual: "Yes, another year older!" But this time around, I'm wishing it could stay just a near thought in the future. Eighteen. It's pretty big, isn't it? At least it seems to be. In reality, there isn't anything overly special about it. It's just another number, but somehow it's gotten to mean a little more. So what do I want for my birthday this year? In addition to the flying carpet, genie, my own little place, and a 1956 Jaguar Roadster, there's one more thing... I want you .

When I looked into those cloudy eyes tonight, they nearly knocked me off my feet. You see, I've always had this little admiration for eyes. They tell you everything you need to know. The gateway to their thoughts.... The gateway to their soul . And when I looked up into those eyes tonight, I saw the emotion flooding out from behind them. I've never been an open person. I can't exactly pinpoint the time in my life where I closed myself up, but the simple fact is I have trouble sharing my thoughts - -my feelings. That's an issue. There are 2 people however who know everything about me. The people who always catch me at the right moment, when the water's threatening to push over, and the dam finally breaks. And believe it or not, I'm a little bit more open because of these 2 people in my life - -not much, but better . I just wish that that number could up itself to 3. It could be 3. I want it to be 3 more than I am capable of describing. And it kills me

There's something calming about the water, even though I'm scared to death of drowning. When I was younger, I use to go fishing with my dad. I haven't done that in literally years, but I can still remember the routine of it, down to the very clothing we wore. The catching of tadpoles, the heading upstream while my fingers were strung through the loops of my dad's waders. I was always afraid that the current would sweep me away and I would end up somewhere so far downstream that I would be left behind. That never happened though, much to the dismay of my father and sister, I'm sure. These days the water carries me away in a different sense. Instead of carrying me physically away, it seems to carry away any and all insecurities I may be harboring at that time. It cleanses my mind and nothing in particular comes to mind except for the thought I wonder if I could catch tadpoles here... I feel like I get this far off look in my eye when my friends and I end up at

I've decided it's time that I write more. This is where it might, and hopefully will, happen.