allow_me_to_refresh_your_memory
blown cherry FOREWARNING: this is REALLY long
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You forgot.
Well that's just fucking great isn't it?

"Btw, I got the window fixed."
"What window?"

You obviously remember some (red/secondary_motive) but is that all?

Fuck you and your drunken selective memory.
Yeah I'm hurting, and yeah that's why I'm swearing so fucking much, but you couldn't even remember if we'd slept together that first time, same goes for heaps of other girls, and now I wonder if you can remember whether or not we fucked again last saturday.

I'm probably more fucking annoyed at myself for expecting that much from you.


So, allow me to refresh your memory;

We were racing Pete and Daniel, supposedly to the corner of Coogee Bay and Carrington. We parked in Carrington, miles ahead of the other two, then I saw them go past in the rear view mirror. A confused phonecall later and everyone was happily decided that a fun night was over.

So. We sat.
Then I asked you what you would do if I leant over and tried to kiss you.
"Are you going to do that?" you asked as I leant over.
"Why would you do that?"
I sighed and leaned back just a little, I stared out the window a bit before I could answer.
"I think I've told you that enough times already"
"Well, no then."

Fine, so I started the car and drove you to your house only metres away.
You should've walked.
Out the front you tell me to drive past a bit because the sound of the car idling would wake your parents. 15 minutes to curfew, or you get booted out of home.

Around the corner I stopped.
I notice how casually you fail to get out of the car.
I'll probably screw up the order of some of the following bits of conversation, but it's hardly relevant.

Daniel sms's. Then calls.
"What happened with Blake?"
"Nothing, of course nothing happened with Blake, he doesn't want me"
You nod. Ouch.
"So what happened? I thought we were supposed to meet somewhere? I'm at home, so you dropped off Blake and now you're going home blah blah blah.....
"yes"
you photoidiot, you start ringing his phone once and hanging up, just to annoy him, I'm trying not to laugh :)

He calls you right after. He can tell though. Being in the car doesn't soudn like being at home. Especially when the background noise on both our phones is the same background noise.

Fuck, I don't remember what came immmediately after that, but I remember eventually you got out of the car, and came around to my window.

"No wonder you don't know how to handle me!" came laughingly out of your mouth when I said I didn't really understand what passive-aggressive meant.
You gave me some poor examples.
You lean down, next to my face, I grab your shirt, not willing to let go this time.
I threaten to tear it if you walk away, you say you better get back in the car if I'm going to tear your shirt.

Now the dumb games begin.
You want me to say "I want you to lick my clit" knowing full well it's going to be the sort of stupid thing that I'm going to have an unreasonable amount of trouble saying. Not that it's not something I want you to do, just that it's not on my list of priorities about you at all.

I falter, you get out of the car. You slowly walk away. As you hit the corner I get out of my car, the words on the tip of my tongue, but still I falter. You keep walking and I get back in my car. You dissappear around the corner.

Fuckit, I think and drive off.
I'm less than a kilometer way and "beeeeep beep". That killer sound.
"You won't say it. How funny. I guess you miss out. I really would have, too."
Expected reaction: I call you immediately and blurt it out. I keep you talking while I fly back to your house, back to where I'd left you, you say I've just gone past you, fuck!
But you appear, coming back around the corner in seconds.

Back in the car, back in the odd freezing warmth.
You wonder why you're here. You say you know the primary motive, but not the secondary. Curfew has ticked past by now. You might get thrown out of home, I should tell you, but I don't want to lose the moment, so I don't, but I'm sure you know anyway.

We break the first rule of blather!
We talked about blather! Oh god NO!
Who we like, who we dislike. A few similaries, a few differences.
You say I blather a lot, I shrug.
I know I do. It's the only place where I don't have to "speak up" or repeat myself, or get talked over.
At some point you ask me how much you've told me about your mum. I can't recall, you don't say much. But now I remember you said a litle more once before, but very little more.

You tell me how you accidentally cut your wrist once whilst cutting cheese, and you didn't even notice. Your (step)mum took you to the hospital, and you were spurting blood everywhere.

I ask you if you think slitting one's wrists would hurt, or if you would reach such a state where you would no longer feel the pain. You say it would throb.
Only you and one other person that knows me would not become concerned over me asking a question like that.
It's just a matter of fact question. And it's not like I've never thought about killing myself now have I?

A car comes up the street behind us, they stop, I think it best to drive off, so I drive to the next street around and park under the trees next to the hill. it's almost "our spot" we've been there so much, not that there is any kind of "us" whatsoever. And who knows who else you've sat there and talked for hours with.

Somehow our hands meet. And I indulge myself in feeling yours all over. Every line, every crease every fold of skin. The long delicate, but strong fingers, the rough palms. For a few minutes they're all mine.

You creep your hand over my leg, then further and further, slowly driving me crazy. Then you pull it away making me crazier still.

You say it doesn't really indicate what I'm thinking when I ask you to fuck me.
I say "What? That I don't care if you use me as long as I get to spend 5 minutes more with you?"
That seems to shut you up.

Eventually the inevitable kissing begins.
I try to unbutton your pants but you push my hand away. I use the other hand and foil your attempts, but am still largely unsuccessful.
I settle for feeling you skin under your shirt. It's wonderful to touch.
You ask me someting else and my answer doesn't please you, so you rip my hand away from you.

But we start kissing again anyway.
You say you're torn between your hatred of me, and your lust for me. How odd you are.

You get my pants undone.
and eventually I get yours too.
Hehehehe. You say you can't think straight now :P
Oh!
I tell you if you do that I can't concentrate on what I'm doing. You ask if I want you to stop.
That shuts me up.

Sometime later we look at the possibility of doing it in the car, but you figure it's too small, probably since you've never tried it.
You tell me I'm too noisy to sneak into your house again, I think you meant I'm not quiet enough on the sneaking in part.

A few more games and I'm too fed up and dejected to keep playing, so I let you leave.
One hour and twenty minutes too late for curfew.
You give me a raised middle finger as a goodbye. My how lovely you are.
You come around to the drivers window again and lean heavily on it with your palms. I try to wind it down. You hold it firmly.

Finally you walk away, anothe fine "fuck you" signal as you go. I wind down my window, only to find you've fucked that too. I open my door and yell accross the street at you.
You come back and survey the damage.
Embarassed and apologetic, you worry about the cost.

Then at last you leave.
Thank fucking god for that.

I get home, almost relieved that another stressful evening with you is over. Pissed off at your games. But still knowing that somehow I'm getting what I wanted.
"Beeeeeeep beeeep"
sms of death. No, just kidding.
"I'm so quiet, but still too loud. Btw, you could have fucked me.I'm like a choose your own adventure. Want you badly, hate your guts. X"

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Hmm. If you ever actually read this I bet you'll hate me even more. And maybe this time it will be for something I actually deserve ie. telling all our personal shit to everyone who bothers to read it, and not just for coming to blather, after YOU gave me the fucking address.

So there. That's what happened. Most of it anyway.
If anyone reads this please tell me how fucked up I am being so I can try and snap myself out of this awful mess.
Because red/every_twist_every_turn I'm getting more tangled up in this web.




Damn. As soon as I hit blather I know I'm going to want to edit.
020406
...
blown cherry "What's wrong with you?" you asked accusingly.
"What do you mean? What mental illness do I have? Why do I like you so much?"
more silence
breathing
020406
...
farmfish fuck! blatha be rockin' baybee. 020406
...
yummyC allow me to refresh your memory... I saw you at the bowling ally, and you decided to ignore me most of the time I was there. Then, you went to hug me, but...you didnt telll your girlfriend about us and i had already come to the conclusion that you were a huge asshole and I want nothing to do with a liar and a faker, so i pinched you hard...which certainly wasnt good enough. so i said "wait, here, I'll hug you for real this time" and opened my arms, and you gave me a hug cautiously. but not cautiously enough, because my knee in your crotch sure looked like it hurt.

(well I hurt, too.)

and THEn you call me, begging to go camping with me??? and you get mad when i changed my plans because my mom is pissed, and you already backed out earlier???
well let me refresh your memory.

I hate you.
020406
...
blown cherry is an intellectual "I really enjoy having sex with you"
Of all the things my unsolicited dreams would like this to mean, I just hope it means I'm somewhere close to the top of the list as far as good shags go.


"I say a lot of crap"
You got that right.
020407
...
blown cherry while you had your hand held tightly around my throat, lifting me off my seat, I told you you were pressing on my wisdom tooth and hurting me
(though for some reason ignoring the fact that you were trying to strangle me.
No, not some reason. We both know the reason)
"Do I care?"

But the next time I said that something hurt, you stopped.
020407
...
Photophobe Oh my fucking god you read all the wrong things about me. Its like you're picking parts of me at random and joining the dots.

If you can't solve_me then stop thinking about it and move on.
020408
...
blown cherry the procrastinator I did what I could to remain vaguely on the path of factuality as far as your actions were concernd.
I only editorialised what I was thinking, not trying to guess what you were.

And besides, I thought you weren't a puzzle I could solve.
020408
...
run time error nbirdmad please don't refresh my memory

i'm going to great pains to delete these files from the history folder in the hard drive of my mind.
020408
...
blown cherry Hmmm, I knew you were drunk and unlikely to remember a lot, but I'm hopeful that you remember the gist of the whole thing.
It was a good conversation I think.
Not a lot was established, well, no, a lot was established ie. you DON'T hate me, regardless of the number of times you've said it, as well as a lot more, but nothing was decided upon other than that neither of us knows how to improve our current situation/s.
If you want me to go on maybe we should do this in person, but I'm fine with blathering/emailing it too, if you want me to.

I think we left on good terms.
That's all I can hope for.

Oh, and do you remember telling me how you forget whole chunks of stuff?
Like whole conversations? Or like meeting some guy last week and talking to him about art for like an hour, saying you'd call him, and then totally forgetting the whole thing by the next day? And you weren't pilling or pissed or anything! :)
You're pretty funny :)

I would have to say though, that while much of your memory loss is random, it is almost guaranteed when alcohol is involved, but how unusual does that make you amongst the human race?
Makes you pretty weird by robot standards though, corrupted disk sector somewhere I spose....
020415
...
blown cherry Do you remeber what you asked Toni?

Yesterday it was only a rumour, today it was real.
Yesterday Matt and James came laughing down the stairs.
Yesterday Matt said to everyone about, "Did you hear about Blake"
Yesterday everyone about was curious "What"
Yesterday Matt said to everyone about, "About Blake and Toni? About Blake and anything with legs?"
Yesterday James' show of tact was slow to pass to Matt.
Yesterday Toni was just a dim witted but well meaning 36 year old single mum of an 18 year old daughter who was into scientology, probably because she doesn't know any better.
Today she was first choice.

Today Bek said to me with a slight hint of worry in her voice "I wonder what he was expecting"
Today I realised how far down the list I actually am.
Today I realised that when you say how you lie to me, that "I find you really really attractive" is maybe on that list.

Today all the boys were laughing at you.
And it kills me.
Today everyone about was taking pity on me.
And it kills me.
Today my smile button gave me a nice massage when he saw the tears welling in my eyes.
And it kills me to have him pity me too.
020416
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interested sucky advice: u2 need to get real and f*** it out or just vacation to your place. 020416
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blown cherry vacation to your place?

What on earth (or elsewhere) does that mean?
020417
...
gatorbabe *pours 32 ounces of icy cold gatorade all over your head* 020425
...
blown cherry Reliving memories in the middle of the cold night.
I won't call in case you're asleep,
but I'd do anything to hear the smile in your voice.
021211
what's it to you?
who go
blather
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