The Musings of a Fangirl.

This is a story about God knows what, a girl without? I have no idea. I’m just a girl without a lot of things; a clue, a purpose, a thought in my pretty little head, talent, or drive? What the fuck am I missing? What in the hell is it that keeps me up at night, that nagging sense of awful impending doom? I shouldn’t sleep by myself. I can’t stand a cold bed alone. I can’t stand to be alone with my thoughts, even if I don’t voice them, that warm body next to me is assurance enough that, as overwhelming as my monotonous life may be, there’s someone there for me to tell. Just the thought that I have the option to spill my sorry guts to someone is good enough for me even though I never will. I’ll keep my fears, worries, and regrets to myself no matter how heavy, because who the fuck is going to understand anyway.

Sometimes I dream there is someone with me in this huge bed. He’s touching me sweetly, softly, reassuring me that everything is or will be ok with just a simple flick of his wrist. Soft finger tips over the bend of my elbow, tickling me as a small distraction as he slips an arm around my waist to pull me in to his chest. I’ll find comfort there in the smell of the crook of his neck.  The night and stretch of time between the closing of my eyes and my waking will seem like a peaceful eternity; one where tomorrow is looming but far off. I’ll worry about it but it will be as if it will never come, a sort of suspended animation. It’s grace in the arms of a lover.