Romance has been elegantly defined as the offspring of fiction and love.

"You're gonna kiss me, and you're gonna like it, you little bitch."

I love my boyfriend.

Every day may not be good, but there's something good in every day.

A lovely day is always promised when you spill a nice cup of hot fresh coffee on your lap, keyboard, and futon mattress.

The upside is I got to use some of Heather's badass, super-absorbent neon towels!

Sticking feathers up your butt does not make you a chicken.

Well, yesterday was fantastic.

"What are you doing?"
"Workingggg."
"At Jungle Rapids?"
"JaaaaJaaaaJa."

Next thing I know, I'm walking to take some pizza pans back to Big Splash, and I see Ashley Wynn. It was probably the highlight of my work day. I walked her around and pretended to be doing my job.

A few hours later, Macey informs me that she's in town at her granny's.

"What time do you get off work, hoe?"
"Like, just now, but I'm about to play some Mario."
"Hurry up, bitch. I'm lonely."

She bought me some coffee and we sat outside Port City Java for a good two hours talking about weed, tripping, hookah, and some other less important things. The meter-fairy who sat behind sometimes seemed interested, so I tried speaking in codes.

"Yeah, dude. I really wanna try "the opposite of base."
She's quite for a moment.
"Ya know, like a 7 on pH scale?"
"Ehhhhss...."
"ACID!"
"Ohhhhhhhh, I was trying to spell base backwards."
*FACEPALM*

After that, we went to her granny's porch where I sat in the rocking chair, and she sat Indian style on the ground.

"Now listen here, grandchild..." I started. I proceeded to tell her about how I ruled the universe, Lincoln was from Mars, and George Washington Carver invented the peanut and was our first president.

I love being insane and hyper with her. I love her. I will always carve her pumpkin and birth her tacos.

Later that night, I picked up Chris. We had original intentions of going to a wine party. Instead, we decided it would be awkward since we didn't really know anyone. Then, we decided to go to quesadillas at The Gypsy, maybe smoke some hookah and try to score some booze.
When we got there, it looked empty so we tried to find a short cut home. An hour later, we're downtown at Domino's. At midnight we were sitting on the ground waiting for a medium pepperoni pizza.
In the midst of all that, we had some awesome conversations. I was pretty glad we ended up walking and talking as opposed to drinking.

However, I would truly love a Sparks sometime soon.
Rum would be better.
Gin would be amazing.
Fucking Tequila would be the shit.

Luckily, I convinced my mom to have a drinking night with me before I leave.

Poor, dramatic puppy

Puppers! Calm down, baby! She wasn't yelling at you. Stop shaking. It's okay, I promise.


Just lie beside me and cuddle by my leg for now. =3

Give me rampant intellectualism as a coping mechanism.

Hopefully, today someone fills out an application to take over my lease. A girl named Megan is meeting me at The Creek around 3:30 to take a look at the place. I'm desperately trying to get rid of that place. I hope to God she wants it.

I've been living in the corner of Ben, Heather, and Dawn's living room with Chris for three days now. It's not so bad. I still feel awkward around them, but I'm sure that will go away soon.

I have a problem with not feeling connected to anyone again. I think it's triggered when I'm in a new environment. That too should go away soon.

Beer is a nice way to overcome that. Although I hate the taste of beer (besides Sparks), but I downed some Sam Adams last night and took it like a champ (and by "downed some" and "took it like a champ," I mean I sipped quietly without complaining). They talked a lot about babies and all that mess that I would rather not get into, and I mostly listened. Then we played Tourettes, and I mostly sucked.

I fell asleep sort of early and woke up with a message from Kayleah. She's not too happy back in Cali either. I hope things get better for her. I love her, and I want her to be okay. I'm just not sure how I can help now. I'm going to visit her after I get settled in Portland and have some money saved for a plane ticket.

On a lighter note, Dawn just sent me friend request which makes me feel a tad less weird. Things are going to get better. I just have to work on getting over this whole awkward, dissociative phase I've got going on right now.

Thanks, Eddie.

In attempt to prepare for the move to Portland, Chris and I have moved out of The Creek and into Ben and Heather's (and Dawn's!). Chris and Ben are playing Dream Cast. Heather and Dawn are planning our road trip route.

A couple of days ago (while under the influences and above rainbows) I decided that there is a man who lives under the ditch crossing. He stays there like a troll, and when unsuspecting pedestrians cross, he grabs their legs with his decrepit, bony hands and pulls them under and devours their organs for dinner.
I blame my active imagination and weed.

But, I think hookah's almost ready. Adios.

Fuck your lack of imagination

Earlier, on my way home from taking Chris to lunch, I called an elderly lady smoking a cigarette in a Monte Carlo a "speeding cunt." Respectful, huh?

I think she may have heard me. Since then, I've felt like she was wrapping her bony hands around my uterus and squeezing it. I know what you're thinking. This could be because of a number of things. PMS, possibly? Maybe it's the Taco Bell? My guess is that the old hag cursed me.

But, Alkaline Trio makes me happy right now, so it's okay.

Yesterday, today, tomorrow, and all the in betweens.

There's something oddly comforting in sitting naked and alone on my broken futon watching old MTV cartoons.


Who said dropping out of school was a bad idea?

He has brown hair and very very pretty green eyes. The kind of green that doesn’t make a big deal about itself.

Fuck an introduction. What the hell is love?

Okay. Here goes nothing.

Chris and I were in the car for lunch. He munched on the veggie burger I made him, while I devoured deliciously prepared fish sticks smothered in ketchup, and he said something that just made me pause for a second. I can't remember the conversation leading up to it for the life of me, but I recall him saying something along the lines of, "I love you, but I think it's different from how you love me." My hand froze in it's track to my mouth. 

"How so?"  I asked. I didn't look up from my fish stick. I was actually afraid of such a conversation.

"I don't know. I think we all just perceive love differently, and I think we do too. Like, I know I love you, and I know you love me, but I think we all have different ideas of love."

I nodded, and in a desperate attempt to change the subject, I offered him a fish stick which he declined. He kept going, and although I pride myself on being this spectacular listener, but I couldn't help getting lost in my own thoughts for a few minutes. So, even though I kept nodding and letting out my usual "uh huh's" that signify my attention, I can't recall a damn thing he said after that because my mind argued too loudly back and forth for me to comprehend any of the words that came from his mouth.

"Corri, do you even know what love is? 

Of course I do. I love Chris.
Well what is it?
I can't really explain it.
Because you don't fucking know.
Shut the fuck up.

How can you say you love Chris if you can't even say what love means?
Because there's some weird emotion there that I haven't really felt before.
How does it make you feel?
I'm happy happy. I'm always happy with him. I don't ever want to be without him.
Is that love?
I guess?
Just think about it... Okay?"

Anyways, the subject changes, we finish lunch, and I go home. 

Now, here I am sitting in front of this god damn computer screen, downing some Blueberry Pomegranate juice and Cheese Nips while listening to Dancing by Elisa on repeat because it's the first seemingly sappy love song that I could find, all in hopes that somehow all this will lead to my grand epiphany of love. 

In this past, being my naturally cynical self, I didn't really care about the idea of love. 

Although I dated people, and I told them I loved them, I don't know how much I actually meant it. I mean, don't get me wrong, at the time I thought these people were amazing and maybe I did love them. But, I grew. They grew. We changed, and I don't anymore. So, for me it's easier to say that I never loved them as opposed to saying that I just stopped because now just the idea of loving some of those people knots my stomach in the most awful way. 

In retrospect, I think I was just satisfied. I think that I was happy where I was and afraid to change it. All I wanted was to be with someone I didn't completely hate. I put up with boy/girl friends being rude to me, walking all over me, blowing me off, and treating me all around like shit because it didn't matter. I rarely got bothered by things like that because I felt like I deserved it. I had the worst picture of myself. I stayed with people I could tolerate because I was afraid I wouldn't find anyone else. 

And, that's not love. 

Now, I'm different. I feel really good about myself. I believe that I'm intelligent, I'm gifted, and even though I'm not one hundred percent comfortable with my body yet, I'm learning to feel as though I'm beautiful. Consequently, I need someone who makes me feel this way. 

Chris does that. He makes me feel wonderful about myself. And, we're so comfortable with each other that he can get away with calling me a stupid bitch, and I can make fun of the way he smells because we know that neither one of us means it. We can joke and know that deep down we're so attached that some stupid, funny insult doesn't affect our relationship. 

But, I think he's right. I think maybe we do have different meanings of love, and I want to find out what his is. Until then, I decided to seek Kayleah's expert opinion.

"Hmm... Love. Funny subject. For me it's where I always want to see that person, never get get tired of being around them, happy when I'm with them, and would do anything to see that person happy. And, that's just what I can think of right now."

With that newly discovered insight, I decided to check out a few quotes. Most of them were these ridiculously cheesy lines about how someone's heart flutters or how this person's lips make this other person feel or something else along those lines that made me want to vomit up a mess of orange and purple.  But, I did find these.

"Love conquers all things -- except poverty and toothache."  -- Mae West

"Any man who believes he can truly describe love knows nothing about it." --Andrew Davidson

With that in mind, I'm not going to tell you how I perceive love, but I will tell you all the things that Chris makes me feel, and I'll call it love, simply because I can't begin to give any other name that could do it justice.

He makes me smile... ridiculously. For so long, I would hide my smile when I laughed with my hand because for some unknown reason I hated anyone to actually see my lips curve upwards. With Chris, I'm not ashamed of being happy. 

He makes me enjoy doing things I hate. I fucking detest cooking, but I'm more than happy to make dinner or lunch for him because he's always insanely appreciative. 

He motivates me in this weird way where he buys me anything I need without complaining. For some reason, that pushed me to get a job because even though he's more than happy to help me out, I'm afraid of becoming comfortable with him taking care of me. Not because I don't want him to, but because I never want to take anything he does for me for granted. 

He offers me support in my decisions, and I do the same for him. If he decided that he wanted to go back to school, I would be more than willing to start working more so he could have time to concentrate and achieve his goals. 

I'm fucking ridiculously comfortable with him. He never makes me feel like he would ever judge me. I tell him shit that I refuse to ever tell anyone else. 

He makes me want to be honest and loyal. I've lied and cheated a lot in the past, but I don't ever want to do any of that to him. I would never risk fucking up our relationship for anything. 

I actually want to talk to him. I have the worst fucking communication problems, and I never gave a damn before. Yet, he makes me actually want to spill my guts. Sometimes I lack the courage to do so, but with alcohol and other drugs, I'm usually able to share some of my ideas.

I need him. I need to be around him. He tells me all the time that I give him a positive outlook on things, but he's the only reason I'm such an optimist. If anything's ever wrong, I can look on the bright side because of him. I know that whatever the problem is, I have someone to help me through it.

Even if there wasn't any problems, I'd want to be around him just because he makes good things better.

I don't really know. I can't really say if that's love. I mean, I'm nineteen years old. I don't know shit right now. But, I know that I'm happy, and I know that I don't want to be away from him. I want to be with him for a long time. This could really only be because I'm clingy as fuck by nature, but I think it works out because so is he. 

And, if it's not really love, then I can't think of any other reason I'd feel the need to be around him as much as possible. I can't fathom a reason why I would pay so much attention to his ideas. I definitely can't conjure up a reason as to why I'd sacrifice a lot to make him happy, because his happiness makes me happy.

Shit.

Fuck.

Either way, I feel like I just slipped out of my cynical character into something new, and even though it scares me, it's awesome to be here.

And, just for the record, after listening to this song a hundred times over I want to say that it's amazing. I mean, it's truly beautiful, but it doesn't describe my feelings at all. 

And then I felt really sad because I thought maybe I was different from how Mary Elizabeth originally saw me, too.

I really do wish I knew better responses for when people spill their guts about something important involving me. Instead, I spend hours ignoring it and hoping it will go away. When I finally decide to somehow re-open the doors of communication, the only thing I can think to say is, "What's up?"

"What's up?"

How fucking pathetic and afraid can I really be? Do I really expect this to go away? Should I talk to someone else about it?

Answers: Very. No. I have no one to talk to about it.

I just wish I knew someone who would be completely out of the equation.

I'm not questioning my feelings. I know exactly how I feel, and I can't reciprocate. I'm sorry. I just wish I knew how to go about handling it.

I get the feeling I'll just run to Oregon, and hope it goes away. But, this is one of my best friends we're talking about. The last thing I want is to kill all forms of communication between us. Fuck my life.

It's bad timing. It's the worst timing. I moved on. I'm happy. I'm ready for my future. I can't be yours.

I don't think this will make sense to anybody. I don't even think it makes sense to me.

This is ridiculous. I just need to grow a pair and set everything straight as opposed to pretending like nothing was ever said. I can't say that  I know how to do that. I've never been in this sort of position.

I think some people stay in relationships because they're satisfied, and they don't want to ruin it. It's different for me. I'm actually happy. I'm more than satisfied. And, I never want to lose that.

Either way, I'm blowing this out of proportion.
Also, The Creek smells like weed, and I need a shower.