elgac's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - I had a lovely evening the day before, the man I am seeing a bit finally kept a plan with me. I enjoy him, walking around, sitting and drinking, chatting all the while. As I go throughout the day I get flashes of our kisses and embraces. His mannerisms are endearing at this moment, he does a cute thing when he remembers a story he wishes to share, he tilts his head back and puts his left hand on his brow laughs(all with his eyes closed) and starts the story. The passage of time is so double edged, the pain of past transgressions is lessened. But the memories of extreme happiness are faded by the movement of time. I am trying to remember the great happiness I first felt with Rosa so that I can break down the pint up anger I have. I am working slowly in a forward direction with this current goal. The was a time when just the sight of her would set me off into a crazy panting mess of hormones. Now I want to grab my heart and sheild my eyes when I catch a sight of her. With all of this introspection I feel the need to tell a story of my past dating life. So I wrote about David my first boyfriend, now to the next one. Brian David Frus, we were friends well before we dated. But the friends line became blured when we were a mission trip in Maine and Canada. The vehicle of choice to move a youth group is of course a bus, so I would lay my head in Brian's lap and he would spend hours running his fingers through my hair. Which at the time was quite long, long soft brown teenager hair. At the time it was just friendship, we would chat about life and such. The light and colors of Maine flashing by our window. There was another day when we were in Canada somewhere in New Brunswick, we were laying in a field full of yellow flowers and the grass was so soft and green. Ah the innocence of young love, it was so much easier to acess your interself. Now after so much heart break and loss it has become extremely complicated to feel and to know what your feeling is real. The scars of the heart have been made but I will not let the harden. 9:20 a.m. - 2005-04-21 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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