not anything

shiny used to lick my wrist. I loved to watch his tongue press against my skin as much as I liked the feeling of it. my roommate rolls his Rs at me because I become transfixed by the fluttering of his tongue behind his teeth. he looks at me with heavy-lidded eyes to gauge my reaction. it is hard for me to not push him back against the couch and beg him not to leave.
but the truth is that I want him to leave. what we do, what we are doing, has only ever been temporary. and he teases me with the mention of love but I do not give in. I deny his jokes. I know the power words have. I do not want to go down that path. I'm not sure what I would do if he told me that he loved me. he's not the type to say it first, luckily.
we were lounging in the living room yesterday. he played with the cat. I worked on a paper. I called him by shiny's name. "you think about him a lot, huh," he said to me. "I guess I do."
still haven't heard from shiny. probably won't. can't kill the hope, though. not sure why it stays. I'm illogical. everyone is illogical. nothing can be predicted. say "I knew this would happen," but you didn't. if you knew, you would not have needed to do it.
I've been sad and lonely and looking for something to hold onto. I freaked out badly yesterday and tore through the cabinets in my bookshelf, desperate to find something with my mom's handwriting on it. handwriting has always been important to me. I found the card from her memorial service and the envelope with the lock of her hair in it. I was sobbing when my roommate came in and put his hands on my shoulders. I was inconsolable.

I found a birthday card she sent me several years ago. I want to get "mom" tattooed on me in her handwriting, under an elephant. I like getting other people's handwriting tattooed on me. at this point I have von and ex-otter's handwriting. I have some of buttercup's ready. I would like shiny's and ex-husband's too. I don't even know what shiny's handwriting looks like. that's bothered me for a long time now.
I left the card open on my bedroom floor. there are things that she left behind when she visited that I've been unable to get rid of. it took me months to move the book she left in the living room.
can't let go.
can't get over anything.