In summary...
I don't understand burn journals. I also don't understand monetary angst. I understand Burning Man by Dierks Bentley. I understand that there are three shiny jewels you need as a kid for Link, and more than that as a... teenager. I must assume. I know that Navi is... less popular, and my baby just kicked me. I know that you should mix water and juice for a little kid, and don't drive drunk. I know that waterproof mascara isn't waterproof, and I love him.
I know that when I touch a piano I wake up. I know kisses mean something, and sex means more. I know plaid looks sexy on a man, and so does a fade, and gauges(within reason). I know eyeliner is magic. I know Ben... I know Ben. I knew Ben, I know Ben. I knew him like breathing in and out after a concert. I knew him like the onset of a panic attack, and being grabbed by my shoulders to make eye contract. I knew him like sunburns on sunside arms in a drive. I knew him like trendy music blasting on the radio, and singing lyrics as you drive. I knew him like a body beside you in bed. I knew him like finally resting my shoulders after a long day. I knew him like the soft sound of a cap popping off a hard lemonade. I know him like eternal beeping. Beep. Beep. Beep. I know him like answering unknown calls, and opening doors to strangers. I know him like a wartime wife.
I know Kiefer Carter. I knew him and I loved him. I know him and I love him. I know him like a chain around my neck. Like a baby in my womb. Like a hand on my knee as I drive. I know him like I know a shadow. The sun comes and goes, but you know the next day it will be back. I know him like familiarity and passion. I know him like needles in my skin, and portraits on my flesh. I know him like the eternal judgement of unforgiving fathers. I knew him like my future. I knew him like Zelda. I knew him like bedtime and routine. I know him like rain in a drought. I know him like the time passing at a train crossing. Seconds rolling by as you wait for the train. As you wait for the bar to raise. As you wait to continue on with your life. Yet it continues. You are stuck. You cannot turn left, or right, or reverse, or go forward. You wait. As the spot grips you. I know him like passive resignation.
I know him like the bleeding of my own heart.
I know him.
Don't I?
YOU ARE READING
Beginning of the end
Historia CortaBlake loves him very much. She has loved him for years. How can she not love the father of her child, her fiance? There are bumps and bruises along the way, but Blake is sure that in the end, when they get married, it will all be alright. It has to...
