I am the master at hiding tears.

I can't really hide it when I'm happy. My smile goes beyond my face and just gives me away to anyone who looks at me. "Wow, why are you so happy?" "Hey, whats with the smile?" or they just smile back. I like days like that. I'm proud of my smile, and of my inability of hiding it. It's good to spread joy to the world. But when it comes to tears, I am the perfect person to hide them. I could be crying my eyes out, if someone walks in the room I can just dry them out on my pillow, turn around smiling and just say 'hey, how're you doing?'. I can just press 'stop', and the tears stop. It takes someone who really knows me to check is something is wrong. And even they don't notice. Not most of the time, anyway. It's not like I cry a lot. But when I do, I hate letting anyone see it. I guess lots of people are like that. We hide our weakness, and tears just mean your feeling something so strongely, your body just had to let it out some way. I can go from a deep frown and a fucked-up cry face to a shiny smiley face in no time. Of course make-up helps a lot. But yeah. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe it's both.

Miss you

It's funny how happy feeling rarely make you write so much. I think it's because, if you're happy, you don't really reflect on it. You just feel it, get lost into it, and make the best out of it. The only thing you think about is how happy you are, how lucky you are and how everything is falling into place. So you don't reflect. You don't write. But being sad, or upset, or missing someone... just feelings that make you feel like you're a paper sheet being turned into a ball. Those feelings make you think about your life. Maybe we search a change. Maybe we search for what it is that's making us unhappy. Maybe we know, and we just ponder about it, stew it a bit. But we do write a lot more about it. I always write when I'm feeling down. It comforts me. I used to write about not being free, about being stuck in my own little world. I used to write about not knowing what path to take in life. Or about what I really wanted for myself. But right now, I'm gonna write about missing people. Because it can drive you fucking crazy. The thing is, can you really miss someone you've only been going out with two months? I know there isnt exactly a specific date for being in love, like 'as from the 5th week together you'll be in love'. But I care so much about you, and now that you've gone away for a month, I feel I still care as much as I did, but you... maybe you don't. (Just writing those words made my eyes fill up with tears). Because I really hope you still care for me. I really hope when you come back I'll be able to jump into your arms and hug you and kiss you and take you hope and sleep next to you. Because I think about that every day. At least three times a day, I count down the days to see you, and I imagine the scene of me getting of the bus down in out little university city, and you'll be there waiting for me. And I'll see you, and smile the biggest smile I've ever had crossed upon my face, and run at you so fast I'll probably trip somewhere. And fall into your arms. So you can kiss me, and hug me, and just whisper how much you missed me. At least three times a day, I picture that scene. But then I try not to fool myself, I think about what I always tell myself, 'don't expect much, don't get your hopes up, expectation will only let you down'. It has so many times before... I wonder if you have anyone there with you. I hope you don't, I really hope you don't, but if you do... that'll hurt less than you not liking me any more. I don't know. I hope I don't have to be in that spot. So here I am, 2 am with my brain at full power, with nothing but you in my head. I wish I could read your mind sometimes, just to see if you think of me. Then again, I may be disappointed... I miss you. And I really hope you miss me too.

Details.

Guys don't get it, do they. I'm not usually a bitcher, or a whiner; I don't like to complain. But something that really bugs me is how insensitive men can be when it comes to little things. Taking things for granted just pisses me off, I mean, if they mean even a tiny bit to me (same with people). Like not answering my bloody text, or taking ages to answer 'k'. And may Satan throw his flaming arrows at the motherfucking person who created the "seen" thing on Facebook. That drives me wild, it makes me want to climb up walls when I KNOW you've seen what I wrote to you, and you just don't give a shit. BITCH I SAW IT, YOU LOOKED AT IT. And when it's a cute thing I write, like 'oh I was thinking of you' or whatever cheesy crap my mind thinks and my fingers type when I'm in love, and you just fucking LOOK OVER IT and DON'T ANSWER THE BLOODY MESSAGE it drives me out of my fucking mind!!! CONSIDERATION, PEOPLE. So then I get all hooked up at these little details that YEAH, THEY MATTER. And I get in a bad mood, and I avoid talking to you even though it is the hardest thing on this motherfucking earth. I like talking to you, you bastard. I like texting you just to hear about your day. I like calling you just to hear your voice. I miss you when you're not here. And DO YOU GIVE A RAT'S ASS??? Apparently not. So fuck you.

L.

The light touches slowly your brow, Illuminates your face. Presents to me, by the centimetre The limits of your embrace I lay my head, and feel your breath I don’t need anything else. Your dark eyes don’t deceive me They guide me From the wetness beneath my eyes, Take those tears for a spin Down to the curve on the corner of my mouth Which grows with every word your voice sings. The breeze from the ocean Isn’t as fresh as your breath As you whisper gently in my ear Everything I ever wanted to hear Making me borderline insane. I don’t wish for much now, A touch would already fulfil me A kiss could cause a riot Displace me forever, agitate my essence While my lips try to unveil The truth I can no longer contain The rest of the world has become vain And I need only to look at you To feel whole again.