nyla_tiger (nyla_tiger) wrote in pretty_grrrlz,
nyla_tiger
nyla_tiger
pretty_grrrlz

.Don't save my strength or daring.



I have no idea how to start this, nor do I usually spill anything on to the floor for others to see (aside from paint and milk) but my head has been twisting across my skull for three days now and I don’t take aspirin. (All of that was just an overly proud writers way of saying she needs help.)

Point to blank I am lost in my “girl trouble.” My girlfriend is a bit bi-polar as I am and has been on a down swing for the past few days. Though I’ve done what I could think of to pick her back up, it proved to be less of worth than I thought it was. She has been through volumes, which I’m still painfully finding under her bed and in her closet and though I turn the pages slowly and read deliberately I still scrape my fingernails across the inside my chest hurting for her. I want to make things beautiful for her again, like it was in the summer when we rediscovered each other. The thing is you can’t wear hippie skirts and wade barefoot in a creek in the middle of December. I don’t know what else to make her happy.

Today I snuck over to her house for a few hours and she seemed better, but holding her on the bed she slipped again. She pushed me away with her body and told me to hold her; with hesitance she explained to me dreams that she had been having in class of me leaving her for someone else, for no one at all, for my best friend. She asked me if I wanted someone else or if I only thought of her as sex. I broke at the last statement and started to shake pushing tears into my lungs, clenching my fist so crescent moons pooled into my palm. She knew the answer already as she filled the space between us and kissed my face stating she was sorry, but I whispered to her “I love you, you are my thoughts, my warmth, my dreams.” I pulled my arm up and showed her the soft underside of it, which had scared and smoothed from a far more naive time, from a habit she helped me quit; “you are my skin.” My love shook her head, the light from her window accenting the Cuban blood, which formed well in her face, as she laid her head on my chest warming my breastbone through my shirt with her breath.

When I had to steal away back to my house she was happier that before. I kissed her several times and we even danced to her radio as we walked out of her room and down the hall, but the sadness was still thick behind her eyes.
I do not know what to do to help her. I thought getting to spend time with her would help, I would be able to use some sort of reasoning to fix her again… but I’m not sure if me showing up fresh from class helped her at all. Please if any of you can offer help… or thoughts as to what could cheer a wolfwoman up, please… share. If not, thank you for reading this… I think I just had to many words jammed up the back side of my head.

Kat
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