say yes. (dwayne hoover)

interlude - ramona's diary

excerpts from ramona's diary. 

June 13th, 2006.

Would you be an outlaw for my love?

I was listening to Big Star earlier today and I was filled with an insurmountable comfort deep in my chest. Like swimming on a summer day or drinking warm tea on the porch in fall. I thought about being in Florida with Sadie, riding bikes next to the marsh, and making lemonade from her mom's tree. I thought about what the song talks about. Walking from home to school, going to school dances, and holding clammy hands.

I thought about watching constellations while sitting on a swing set. About slow dancing in a basement. About going to the fair and getting dizzy on the teacups.

I thought about him and I felt more peace than I ever have.

I feel thirteen again, without all the trauma that happened that year after. I can practically feel the sealing of all my past wounds, all the ones he dressed in the gauze of his smile.

I lost so much to the hands of people who saw me like shards of glass. To people who threw me on the ground and shattered me, and then blamed me when their hands bled. I have been big yet small and dissected yet invisible.

For once, I just love being seen.

I love the way he looks at me and actually sees me. How I catch him looking at the gap in my teeth and the mole on my neck, not in judgment but in studying. How he looks at me, not like a predator to prey but like an eye to a telescope, just hoping to explore.

I have hated to be watched for so long. But now I am finally learning how kind eyes can feel.

I never want to lose this feeling. I want to bloom and blossom and never spoil!

Please, whatever spirit or god there is out there, let me hold on to this comfort.

Let me be thirteen again.

June 23rd, 2006

I found one of Sadie's letters last night. I thought I destroyed all of them before we moved, but I found this one in one of my books. It was stupid. Just silly stuff about things that happened in class that reminded her of me. She wrote it right before we started dating. When she was first just coming to terms with stuff and learning how to deal with it.

Thinking back though, I can't help but resent her. I know it's wrong. I know I shouldn't.

But at the end of the day, she left. She left me and I'm still picking up the pieces.

I know she was hurting. And I wish I could've helped her more, but I also know that I did everything I could. I loved her and I gave her every piece of my being.

But love shouldn't feel like being drained. Love shouldn't end in gravestones and hospitals.

Love is supposed to be free. And whole. And human.

I don't want to disrespect Sadie. She was my first taste of love. And the person who taught me some of the hardest lessons. But I don't think I can call her the first person I fell in love with if it made me feel like that. I don't want to look back on my life and think of my first time in love as such a tragic thing.

I want to look back on my first love and see Dwayne.

I want to think of music and laughter. I want soft touches and wandering eyes.

I don't want love to be the harsh voices and cold shoulders that I have received for so long.

I hope that one day, Dwayne will write me letters to replace the ones Sadie wrote. As bad as it sounds, I hope one day, I can forget about her completely. I hope that I can see her handwriting and hear her name, and not feel anything.

That's going to be a long time. For now, I hope I can just have another face and name to hold on to.

June 26th, 2006.

I am losing my goddamn mind.

This isn't a deep, flowery entry. This is an entry for me to swoon about how fucking amazing Dwayne looked today. I mean, yeah, he looks good every day, but today...Jesus, I almost gave in and kissed him right there.

We were just watching a movie. Nothing special. He came over here and I finally showed him Dogma. He wasn't doing anything, really. He was wearing his normal clothes and everything was pretty unexciting. He was just laying on my bed and he was laughing and for some reason, when I looked over, I felt like I was going to explode. I felt like I was looking at a fucking Greek god.

I want to kiss him. I want to touch him. I think he'd be better at doing things than Sam was. I feel like Dwayne would be caring and tender. I think he'd care about how I feel.

Sometimes, when he talks, there's something about his voice that just drives me crazy. He's so sweet and so wonderful. It seems almost unfair that he can do all of that and look so good.

Maybe I'm going crazy.

I should stop thinking about him in that way. It's been getting worse since the fair. I don't know what happened, but after that night, my feelings for him have gotten even stronger and I can't hardly go a day without getting a headache around him. 

I need to stop!! I'm going to stop! If I ever write about him again like this, diary, come to life and shoot me, please.

Things are too good right now. Too good to ruin.

I'll admire from afar. And keep my fucking mouth closed.