Almost...

My fingers spread

[Intrepid in their confidence]

each digit contentedly making room

for a hand that's only almost there.

The unfilled spaces shooting daggers

Aimed straight at my chest.

Silky calves glide across soft cotton sheets

[seductively wanting your touch]

Knees bending upwards seeking comfort

from a body that's only almost there.

Cold shivers erupting a loneliness

Gripping blankets for warmth.

Conversations orbit my mind

[enthralling and familiar]

The ebb and flow of sarcasm

from a voice only almost there.

Dream-like perfection stinging

In the reality of a hallucination.

Goosebumps emerge on bare skin

[Milk white and needy]

A shudder in anticipation

For fingertips that are only almost there

Frustration building- controlling

A building ache for attention.

Eyes dart across every crowd

[Excitedly hoping that maybe...]

searching for a face;

A person that's only almost there.

Disappointment squeezing my insides

until I remind myself to smile.

F a l l i n g

into dreams where

skin touches

whispers tickle

and

kisses never end

fingers drape

touches linger

and

eyes meet.

W a k i n g

to find

I have it all -

almost.

[so close to perfect]

Getting lost in sheets

Waiting for an almost eventuality.

Indulging in a single fantasy

[Hoping against inevitability]

Tomorrow

when I open my eyes to see you

You won't only be almost here.

These days...

Sometimes it is as if, no matter what I have going on, something bigger is on it's way. I live such an unpredictable life, that it is no wonder that I am going crazy right now. My life went from being on the right path, to not being on any sort of path at all. It seems as though all I do these days is work and wait. I am waiting for something to happen, constantly. I am waiting for medical tests, scared to death of the answer and I'm waiting for Diego to call me and let me know what the hell is going on. I try my hardest to keep everyone happy. I try to be the daughter my mother wants. I try to be a good friend, a good worker, a good sister, a good girlfriend. I try so hard, that as soon as I let anything slip even slightly, I become tormented with guilt.

I'm running into friends I went to school with who have started their chosen careers. Teachers, Scientists and Accountants. Here I am, with two failed courses and back living at home. It's depressing to feel like such a failure every day of your life. It's difficult knowing you had the world at your fingertips and yet still have nothing to show for it.

I'm at the stage where I want to pack up and leave.

Leave the world behind.

Homicidal

So I have had to move back home. Thrown back to the wolves as it were. I am a little lost and can feel all of the negative emotions building. I well up and spill over at the slightest thing. It's kind of crazy. I'm trying my hardest to keep everyone happy but, it just doesn't seem like I can anymore. I don't have the power to make everyone happy, I just seem to fuck things up more and more. I am back drinking way too much; It's only making things worse. I know all of this and yet I keep doing it because seriously, what else am I going to do?!

The mood swings are getting worse, but I can deal with that. I need a job and I need something to study and I will be golden. The fucking economy in this country is diabolical though so I guess we'll see what happens. It doesn't really matter what I do though at this stage, I am never going to make my mother happy. She doesn't know how to be there for me. Her other children, yeah no problem, me - not so much. She just throws every single flaw I possess at me until I just want to curl up and die. I forgot how difficult it is to live with her. One more thing to overcome.

Ugh. I need my own place or I will end up turning bat shit crazy and taking out every single person in this house. CSI murders stylee.

I can honestly say I have tried. I have given everything I can to fixing this shit and I am giving no more. When you are going to call me just to tell me everything I have ever done to wrong you, I am going to hang up. Don't act so surprised. My list is a lot longer. I swear it is getting to the point where I wish I had never met you, or ever talked to you. I don't want to regret you. I love you, I always have, but this shit is just taking the piss.

My life right now is a fucking mess of silly drama and ridiculous situations that I can't get out of. You are not making it any easier by reminding me of my shortcomings. I get that you are hurting right now, but I didn't do that. I am not the cause of your misery, and I would appreciate it if you didn't become the source of mine.

I don't know what my next step is. I no longer want to be where I am, and you are making it increasingly more difficult. I'm glad that you have so much compassion for my situation though, thanks for that. I really appreciate everything you're doing right now. I'll get on to that list right away. Dick.

Argh!

Breathing slower than ever, I try to concentrate on anything at all that doesn't involve you and I can't. I'm beginning to think it's impossible. I would say it is a daily occurrence, but that would make me a liar. It is every second of every minute of every, single day.

Nervous fingers tracing along steaming, hot skin; fingertips barely touching and grazing. inducing moans of need. Silent O's swim out from between bleeding lips, and legs draw closer together. Teeth scratch at collarbones.. a swirling tongue dancing along your neck..

I can't lie to you. I resent every feeling that you make me feel. I hate every skeleton you drag out of me and abolish. It makes me want to scream when I know I can no longer be self sufficient when all I can do is want to feel your body pressed against mine, or listen to your voice.

Intrepid palms slide up along your torso, pulling your top slowly upwards. Your skin revealing itself to my my eyes and mouth in agonising seconds of anticipation. Delicate kisses land on waiting skin, and your back arcs to meet my mouth.

I try to tell myself I should have walked away when I wasn't so caught up; when I wasn't addicted. In reality though, I never could have. I've never not been addicted. The first time we talked, actually talked, I couldn't get enough. I'm fooling myself to ever believe that I didn't want this. I just never believed it would be this powerfully magnetic. So... crucial. It's frustrating beyond belief.

Your breath caresses my neck and throws my mind into a whirlwind of desire. My hands running along your back, pulling your body closer to mine, our skin melting together and our hips grind.

You ask me what I'm thinking. I don't answer because I don't want to seem so hopelessly needy. All I am ever thinking about is you. Even when I am distracted by other things, you're hanging out casually in the background waiting to make your move; always trying to torment me.

Nails drag down along my spine as experienced hands draw out screams, my name hanging from your lips. Eyes meet and bring my lips to yours, your breath catching in my throat as fingers interlock and rise above our heads.

Breathless, I once again have to drag myself back to reality and try to catch what's going on. Once again, I have to suppress every fire and conflict in my head and body and pretend that I am existing on the same level as everyone else. Breathless, I once again try to ignore the pain between my thighs and continue with whatever non sexual and boring task I had been trying to do before you popped into my head.