Wild adventures.

Rules of Adventuring:

1. Go somewhere you don't know.

2. Take lots of pictures.

 

I just want him to know me.

I want him to KNOW me, everyone. I want him to not just know me but try to know EVERYTHING about me, because isn't that just one of those romantic ideas? The boy that you didn't know, that tries to know everything about you just because he can? There's a lot to know about me, even though I don't always think so. He can know how my shoulder blades stick out; how I can actually grab someone's hand with my shoulder blades intentionally. I want him to know this, and not just because it's practically my signature trick. I want him to know every song on the playlist I listen to almost every night, and I want him to know why that song is on there. I really want this, people. I want him to know the significance of the song "Tiny Dancer" by Elton John and why it almost moves me to tears. I want him to know why I love owls so much, and I want him to know the first owl I ever loved. I want him to know not just the one pair of shoes that I wear every day, but all my pairs. I want him to know Psych like I do. I want him to know why I stayed in Ballet, and why I'm in Musical Theater, and why I'm going to try out for Dance Company next year. I want him to know all the places to take me when I'm in all the moods I have. I want him to know what I believe, and why, and how I feel about God and how I feel about the Holocaust. I want him to know how long I've had my same teddy bear and I want him to know how I snuggle down with it every night. I want him to know the smell of Caramel Machiatto on my breath, the smell of my shampoo in my thin, thin hair. I want him to know how I feel about my height. I want him to know me, but mostly I want him to want to know me.

Look, I know where I stand with people. I know where I stand with him. It's getting better, sure, but we don't have nearly enough time for all the knowledge I want him to have. I know that I tend to grab onto things with both hands too fast. I know that I tend to jump into shallow waters head first and maybe that's why I keep ending up broken. But it's so hard to not just jump in when you can already feel yourself slipping, you know? And boy, am I slipping and sliding all over the place, and I don't know how long I can last before I just take the dive and hope the water's deep enough that I won't get hurt right off the bat. But I guess it's still too early to tell.

love always, laura elizabeth.



Meow.

I want my own special cliche.

I want one of those silly, cheesy, romantic cliches where the guy notices everything about the girl and whispers about her to his friends and buys her roses when she's feeling down [or taco bell] and she doesn't even have to tell him when she's feeling down because he knows her "isms" so well that he can just tell.
Taft?
I want a guy to randomly wrap me in his arms and give me a cliche bear hug and hold me tight and maybe whisper in my ear that it's all going to be okay because he can tell I'm stressed and worn out and he knows this is just what I need because he will know me so well.
Chaz?
I want a guy to smile every time he sees me or thinks of me and to always catch my eye in that cliche romance novel kind of way, where instead of looking away we both hold our gazes and slowly he smiles or winks or whatever he thinks would make me feel the most special [and he'd know because he knows me so well.]
...Connor?!
I want to be completely oblivious of his feelings [maybe have a crush on him too] and him feel frustrated because everyone but me can see that he's heels over head for me [our head is already over our heels, so I modified it] and it not even to matter that I'm so awkward and say the randomest things and have conversations in Tabby [it's a cat language].  He'd just accept me for who I am.
Darn darn darn I don't even know anyone that would every fit these!
I just want a guy to care.  I want him to want to make me happy and to try in subtle ways.  I want my cliche John or Kent or Harry or any other cliche character that I've read about.
No one would feel this way for me.  Darn darn darn darn darn.
I think cliches can be good.
It's fine I don't get one.
love always, laura.

"I wish time would stop right now." "me too."

It's quite ridiculous how many times I've started a blog post about you and then slowly deleted the whole thing.

All I know is I want to be with you all day long.
All I know is I can't stop reliving that night.
All I know are the cat-napping butterflies in my stomach,
ready at moment's notice to rise and swirl around
and float my heart all over my body and make
my mouth go all dry and redirect my feet to
any possible place you might be.

I can't stop thinking about how your hand felt on mine,
or your heartbeat under my ear,
or your whisper on my skin,
or your hand in my hair,
or your arm around me,
or your laugh reverberating through my bones.
I can't stop thinking about how you made me,
make me feel.
I can't stop thinking about how Blaze was never like you,
how even when he was supposedly mine,
he never cared so much about these
random things about me.

You make me crazy.
You make my world go all crazy.
Can't we be crazy kids together?

Could we relive that Saturday night?
Could we fast forward to this Saturday night?
Could we fall in love?

love, hippie.

Try to keep me sad during a lightning storm. I dare you.

Let's just pretend that all the conversations and things
we've done in my head
will actually occur someday,
maybe even soon.

That was fun.

Because, let's face it, there will always people who make you blush.
There will always be people that you get excited to see.
There will always be people that you would throw yourself in front of a bullet for.
There will always be people that frustrate you.

But there's only one that could make me go out of my way, because of that one time I got lost and happened to cross your path, and risk being late to psychology just to see him.
There's only one that gives me butterflies whenever I see or even think of.
There's only one that I await anxiously for a return text all the time.
There's only one that I would [or want to, anyway] call during a lightning storm so I don't feel alone.
There's only one that I would like so insanely much.

It's you, Mitchell, and oh my gandhi I like you so much.

Love, Laura.

Regret is making the same mistakes over and over again.

Some people have better things to do, than have a boyfriend.  Like read a book.  That you've read approximately thirty times before and can foresee everything happening and you can completely get lost in.

Some people have better things to do, than impress boys.  Like say exactly what's on their minds, all the time. (Even when it gets them into trouble- ENC <3)

Some people have better things to do, than sing well.  Or talk well.  Like have a cold in the middle of Summer.

Some people have better things to do, than worry about Summer ending.  Like worrying about school starting.

Some people have better things to do, than trying to find a good Shakespeare monologue, because auditions for the team are a week into school.  Like wonder where you're going to find one that you like and understand and will do well performing.

Some people have better things to do, than re-sheet their bed.  Like make a blog post that justifies their behaviour.

and you can't help but wonder if
all your 11:11 wishes would've come true
if you weren't you

love laura

Sadness is when your crush recognizes another girl as "the love of his life" and "amazing".

sigh.

So, that sort of sums up my feelings tonight.


i cant believe i let myself get so hopeful :/

well... it will all be okay, in the end, maybe.

--laura.

Happiness is finding a random message on your phone that says you're amazing from a truly wonderful friend. ....and taco bell.

The little ways my dear friend Kelsey [at least, that's who I think it's from] shows me what she thinks of our friendship warm my heart and make me smile.  Take a moment and share in the happiness that you have friends that care about you like I doubtlessly do.

Anyway. . .

I decided I will write something similar to what I wrote last year.  I thought I'd tell all y'all in case you ever wanted to ask me if you could read it.  The differences will definitely be great-for instance, I doubt this one will mainly be about blaze and how he made last summer a soap opera.  We'll see what happens.

My aspirations to write every night quickly pummelled into the ground. Ehhh.  So did my hopes of not sleeping past ten this summer.  I think it's justifiable to sleep till noon if you can't get to sleep until three, though...right?

some are bright,

some dark.

some flutter,

some sink to my feet.

these butterflies

you give to me

that i am aware of every time

i see you

or you text first

they don't let me forget.

some remind me that

we could be the best pair there's

 ever been.

others remind me of the

low chance of it happening.

sometimes, they jump into my throat

immediately obstructing any sound or word

i wished to say.

sometimes, they pull my heart down to my toes

when i see your name on my phone.

sometimes, they take control of my fingertips

forcefully attempting to get my feelings across

to you, in the medium of text.

i manage to stop that just in time, though.

they tug on the corners of my mouth up

when you say a trademarkedly sweet thing to me

they tug on the convers of my mouth down

when i look at my phone and see that approximately

two hours and forty three minutes have gone by

with you clearly not remembering my existence.

these butterflies,

they think they have

my crush in the bag

they whisper hopes and doubts

in the dark of night

these butterflies,

they wonder

if they have friends

in you, as well

you give me butterflies...

do i,

possibly,

maybe,

hopefully

give you some too?

love, laura