drunkencynic's Diaryland Diary


vulnerability lies in imperfection

Somehow I ended up seeing Seabiscuit tonight. Don't ask me how, or why, I consented to dragging my lazy, whiny ass out from underneath piles of unread school paraphenalia, to go plunk it in front of a movie that I knew I didn't need to see because it's the kind of movie you've seen without seeing. A basic plot summary, or even the tagline, will suffice.

Swelling music, kitschy retro headlines, and mind-numbing, eye-reddening action scenes. About five million and one of them, to be exact.

I did manage to bite my tongue, however, when Frank came out of the theater, after whooping, clapping, generally making embarassing noises, and watching the entire credits roll, saying, "Wow, that was a really great movie." I just smiled and said nothing. Thank you, thank you. Don't applaud, just send money.

Then I went over to JR's to help him study his lines. If you read Elena's diary (and if you don't you should), you probably know about the film study weekend class she's taking. It entails actually filming a short sequence, with live actors and a very short script. JR is one of the two actors, so I helped him with his lines. Uh, that should be in quotation marks because after two half-hearted, distracted readings, we threw the script aside for a more interesting scene of our own scripting.

Not to get all graphic on you or anything (and here I'm going to apologize profusely to those of you I know in 'real life'- I'm sorry) but he didn't come in me and it really disappointed me. The fact that it's way neater and more efficient that way -than the alternative- aside, I really like the feeling and idea of it. When he pulled out he said I had an expression of horror on my face. And afterwards I felt really stifled, like I wanted to run out of there, start up the car, and zoom off, without looking back. For some reason my crazy brain equated his fear and what he thought of as responsibility with his not caring about me that much, or maybe something even deeper. I just know that it shocked and scared me in a way and for reasons I can not even begin the fathom. Which is ridiculous, because I understand where he's coming from (no pun intended, ah hahaha) and would probably do the same thing in his position (again...aw, fuck it). And it's no big deal.

It disturbs me that it disturbs me.

But I didn't run away and he ended up finishing me off quite nicely. When that happens I always feel slightly indebted, especially if I've had a qualm about something. I feel like I'm not entitled to be annoyed about it. And I do love talking to him, but after everything, he is always either all business, or incredibly platonic, or annoyingly silly. I want him to be romantic and sweet and hold me and stroke my hair and tell me how wonderful I am, but I guess that comes before sex with him, not afterwards.

Thomas never wanted to do that, but once he figured out that I liked it and it annoyed me that he didn't, and he'd get more by doing it, he started. And it was nice.

It came naturally to Milo, of course, the one who actually did love me.

While JR was rubbing my back, I said, "Hey, you can be my therapist! I'll tell you all my troubles and you can get all the knots out of my back while you're doing it."

He laughed, then affected a therapist-like tone. "What do you want?"

I couldn't say. What do I want? I want him to be madly in love with me, I guess. I want to feel right in my skin, in my life. I want to be happy. And how generic is that?

I feel like I've spilled my entire heart out. It scares me, I feel vulnerable. I want everything to be perfect.

11:56 p.m. - 2003-09-26


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