Someone at school asked me a question about Chris. A VERY personal question. One I wouldn't like to disclose. She said that she heard it in the hallway which means that people are talking. Why? NO. This is bad. I don't want people to talk. It was supposed to be personal. What the fuck? I am at a loss of words. If people do this to me I don't know what I'm going to do. He is just so fucking stupid. I think I'm done then he talks to me and I can't stop thinking about him. I don't see how I can like him. He's such a stupid fuckhead. Oh by the way, now Steven Bucanon (sp??) knows THANKS TO SARAH.
I want you to know
You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.
if each day,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.
-If You Forget Me ~ Pablo Neruda-