remember?

the light from the muted tv cancelling out the light from the window.

you, there, leaning against the headboard, the pillow lost a while back.

the light flickered across your body, catching on each one of your fine hairs.

you had just stopped laughing.

your hands folded over your belly.

i twisted over, laying on my side, my hand holding my head up, wanting to see your eyes in that after laughter glow they used to hold.

and still hold.

i still remember the feel of your fingers moving through my hair.

and i remember the feel of the hem of your shirt in my fingers.

that faded light blue shirt of yours that was my favorite.

the way your stomach looked, with the light from the television playing across it.

the way your muscles contracted slightly as i moved.

or at least, that's how i wish it had been.

today, yo, ran into a kid from this summer. she invited me out to eat lunch with her friends, and though i was weary about the friends part, i really wanted to be with her.

so i went.

and i had one hell of a time.

almost seven hours later, as i left for good, i gave her the way to contact me, told her she must.

she hugged me, i left.

i might go "clubbing" tomorrow night with a group of old friends.

might. yes. if they ever give me the full idea behind what they're doing.

something more than "its christine's birthday"

as it is, i am not hip, i am not with it. i am not on the d.l.

i am, however, crayon, which more than makes up for all that.

oh, yes, by the by: i hate slow motion fighting in plays.

i hate it with a passion.

that is all.