ramanda's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- things have changed but I still feel the same 02.17.01 I went out with the boyz tonight (Cameron, Kyle, Chris, and Dave). It was the first time in a long time we all went out and got drunk and danced and it was sweet. I get so fed up with them, with their never calling me, with their boyz� nights, with their showing up at my birthday and then pricking off early. Then a night like tonight happens and it makes it seem worthwhile. Cameron picked me up after work and he looked, as he always does, cute in that little kid way that just makes me want to hug him and make all the trouble I see in his eyes go away. I really love the way he smells. I know it�s just some store bought aftershave that probably smells exactly the same as any other aftershave, but there�s something about the way he wears it; the way it mixes with the smell of the laundry detergent on his clothes or something, something that just makes me sigh. It�s his smell and it�s good and it�s one of my favourite things about him. He was wearing �the sweater� too. That green, rib-knit, cotton sweater with the beige bands on the arms. God I love the way he looks in that sweater. Nothing spectacular happened. We made small talk in the Tempo on the way to the country bar. It was cold walking from the car, but I had a warm feeling. I knew it was going to be a good night. We got there and quickly found Kyle, Chris and Dave at a table in the back. They looked uncomfortable and totally stoned. We sat. People sang karaoke (badly). I smoked Cameron�s cigarettes. Even when you�re drunk you can only stand the country bar and its white-trash patrons like for so long. So we all headed to the alternative bar. I just know I�m going to be driving by that place 20 years from now and even though it probably won�t be there anymore I�ll still smile and hear the remnants of counting the days or what�s my age again. I love that little rat-hole. It�s dark and gross and smoky � but it�s ours. A lot of my favourite memories are hazy drunken memories from that little underground hole. So I danced with the boyz, and we drank, and laughed at how high Dave was and we made fun of the other dancers. Afterward we went to get drive-through and Cameron and I sat in his car listening to the Edge and chowing down on our bag o� burgers. My root beer was (as always) flat and tasted funny. It�s stupid that I know it�s going to taste that way � and yet I order it anyway. Old habits die hard. He spilled his guts to me about Nicole, about all his regrets about how he feels (or doesn�t feel) about Katrina. And I smiled and spoke encouraging, yet realistic words. And he sighed because (as always) my words are never quite enough. Old habits die hard. I love this boy to bits - though maybe not in the way I think I do. Sometimes I think I could be in love with him � although I know in my heart of hearts that it wouldn�t work. I said yesterday that I was through kissing boys that belong to other girls. I am also through thinking about kissing boys who are my friends. He�s beautiful and messed-up and he may never be happy, but I�m his rock, his port in any storm, and I always will be. I think he knows that � and I hope he appreciates it. I don�t think I�ll ever tell him that I've had a thing for him for years and am slowing getting past it. And tonight anyway, I feel like that�s okay. -A - 2001-02-17 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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