Whitney - (TWO)
November 21st, 2009.
(I'm not sure how any of you feel about this story, please comment and let me know! Should I continue or not...thanks<3)
Yesterday my dad came to pick me up, I decided I needed to get away from my new home. I wanted to kind of, well run away. That's the only thing I'm good at. I run from relationships, romantic or friendly. I run from the truth, love, people caring, fights, I'm a runner. I can't shake it. It has always been like this.
My dad got to my house around 10:30 in the morning, and as usual I wasn't ready. I'm never ready on time. I had just put a load in the dryer, and was running around in a towel. Ten minutes before he arrived I was deeply involved with my shower. The warm misty drops of water all over my body has a way of cleaning my entirely. The sad thing is, the second the H2O stops dancing around me, I feel dirty again. The kind of dirty you can't purify.
I let my dad in the door, as I come to find snow is falling all around me. The snow had even began to stick. My mom had texted me a couple hours earlier when she left to head back to Sacramento for the weekend. My siblings and her I guess had left right when it started snowing. This was my real first experience in the snow. It was beautiful. I so wished I could escape into a light and fluffy snowflake. Just for the time it took it to hit bottom. I ran into the bathroom to slip my blue flowery thong on, a pair of comfy jeans and a volley-ball sweatshirt I borrowed from a friend.
We left an hour or so later, and by this time the snow was really beginning to stick. I've never been good with measurements, but I'd say an inch at least was covering the ground. Packing up the car with two garbage bags of clothes, a duffel bag, two blankets, a pillow and my purse. I was well prepared to sleep on yet another couch for another week up at my dad's house.
This girl, the first girl I ever kissed. Her name is...Rose. I met her so many years ago. And we had always gone to the same Seventh-Day Adventist church and then school from Seventh grade to my Sophomore year in High School. I never liked girls then, still have a hard time admitting it. I told her I was curious about them, and we shared a simple peck on the lips. It gave me tingles all over, and ever since I've wanted to kiss those lips again. I never really liked her, she just had nice boobs, and was so beautiful. I imagined us rolling around in bed making out for hours. But like many things in my life, fantasies never become my reality.
She was a short lived spark in my life, yet there was a much longer flame that has changed my life forever.
Her name is Christine and I met her second quarter during my Junior year in Photo 1 class, back in Sacramento. She started it all.
Yesterday my dad came to pick me up, I decided I needed to get away from my new home. I wanted to kind of, well run away. That's the only thing I'm good at. I run from relationships, romantic or friendly. I run from the truth, love, people caring, fights, I'm a runner. I can't shake it. It has always been like this.
My dad got to my house around 10:30 in the morning, and as usual I wasn't ready. I'm never ready on time. I had just put a load in the dryer, and was running around in a towel. Ten minutes before he arrived I was deeply involved with my shower. The warm misty drops of water all over my body has a way of cleaning my entirely. The sad thing is, the second the H2O stops dancing around me, I feel dirty again. The kind of dirty you can't purify.
I let my dad in the door, as I come to find snow is falling all around me. The snow had even began to stick. My mom had texted me a couple hours earlier when she left to head back to Sacramento for the weekend. My siblings and her I guess had left right when it started snowing. This was my real first experience in the snow. It was beautiful. I so wished I could escape into a light and fluffy snowflake. Just for the time it took it to hit bottom. I ran into the bathroom to slip my blue flowery thong on, a pair of comfy jeans and a volley-ball sweatshirt I borrowed from a friend.
We left an hour or so later, and by this time the snow was really beginning to stick. I've never been good with measurements, but I'd say an inch at least was covering the ground. Packing up the car with two garbage bags of clothes, a duffel bag, two blankets, a pillow and my purse. I was well prepared to sleep on yet another couch for another week up at my dad's house.
This girl, the first girl I ever kissed. Her name is...Rose. I met her so many years ago. And we had always gone to the same Seventh-Day Adventist church and then school from Seventh grade to my Sophomore year in High School. I never liked girls then, still have a hard time admitting it. I told her I was curious about them, and we shared a simple peck on the lips. It gave me tingles all over, and ever since I've wanted to kiss those lips again. I never really liked her, she just had nice boobs, and was so beautiful. I imagined us rolling around in bed making out for hours. But like many things in my life, fantasies never become my reality.
She was a short lived spark in my life, yet there was a much longer flame that has changed my life forever.
Her name is Christine and I met her second quarter during my Junior year in Photo 1 class, back in Sacramento. She started it all.
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