ERIC

happy now?

this guy's one of the two people in my life i've ever called "oppa," so i will acquiesce to a blog entry, at least.


what's odd is that we don't necessarily talk all that often. ever since i've stopped technically being his student, the majority of our conversations take place online, but when we do talk, for some reason i end up wanting to transfer bits of our discussions into my personal journal. even though most of what he says is just.. half-witty commentary.
he makes me think, is what i mean.

i really hope he doesn't buy me that book for graduation. i can't help getting slightly emotional when people buy me books and journals. call me a nerd, but that will never change.
i suppose he won't, though, since it's rather difficult to get.
self-preservation, really. that's all. i don't like feeling emotional weight with people i can't afford to have such a connection with, and as i told lily earlier, i'm somewhat of an expert at cutting off any burgeoning emotional ties. but i usually accomplish that through distance, harsh honesty, and intentional wrongdoing, and i don't want to do that with him.

i react to him as i would a natural event. like rain, or the crevices of light in between dark clouds. or a moving tide. he reacts to himself as a realization waiting to happen. at least that's what it seems like from the time i've known him.
i could be wrong. see, he's another one of those people i know who always seem as if they're waiting for something, but sometimes it turns out that those people already found what they were looking for, they just didn't like what they found.
if he is waiting, though, he waits more patiently than others, not faltering before the spectacle of life like a lot of people do.

to be honest, sometimes i feel small around him. particularly when we come into physical contact. yes, i realize that that's rather contradictory to my nature; when i see a boy i like all i want to do is touch and feel. but with eric, even a accidental brush of the body as he passes by makes me want to lean, not necessarily away from him, but further into myself. this could be for a lot of reasons. i'm not sure of any of them, so i won't take the time here to talk about them.
last time we saw each other, he gave me this half-hug, and it's not like i saw stars and felt explosions, but it was too surprising for me to actually register until after the fact.

but i think i've gone through a lot of quiet little discoveries like that around him.


During moments like these I faltered. I tricked myself out of desolation; I could not tell if I was moving or moved. And such feelings seemed to contradict me, the way love seemed to contradict itself and its lovers with a sweeping gesture that traveled as much as it trapped.
--pamela lu