So we’re lying on the rug in a morning-lit room…my cheek against his back as I breathe in the smell of his cologne. He’s talking but I can’t hear what he’s saying - I’m listening to his voice, soft, low, drawly. He decides that this isn’t enough; I should know what he’s talking about. So he picks up a bunch of post-its and starts writing me notes. He scribbles, folds, then passes them over his shoulder, I open them and laugh. They’re drawings. Anatomical drawings, like the kind you see in biology textbooks.
And then goddamit, I wake up. And HE goes back to being gay*.
*Which is, of course, the only reason why we’re not a couple.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
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6 comments:
I totally understand. It's exactly like how Akshaye's inability to kick cigarettes is the only reason we're not a couple.
Hmmm...maybe I should get a television after all
Beth: I knew you would! :) Now how do we get THEM to understand this?
Falstaff: I am terribly confused (and a *little* worried as well) - you want the bizarre post-its? Or the TR Knight dream??
(Young man, I hope this doesn't have anything to do with The Miniskirts)
Sending shiploads of empathy your way. Dang those dreams! (or shud it be Dang real life!)
Oooo...I am so going to copy your dream with my Dempsey boy.
Revealed: Real life, definitely real life!
It's never as much fun is it?
Ph: McDreamy? I don't know...too...bird-like for my liking.
I'm sure if I dreamed of him he would somehow morph into some creature with a sparrow's head and a man's body.
I just gave myself the creeps there. Eeuw.
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