Tell her not to go I ain't holding on no more Tell her something in my mind freezes up from time to time

Tell her not to cry I just got scared that's all Tell her I'll be by her side, all she has to do is call

Tell her the chips are down I drank too much and shouted it aloud Tell her something in my heart Needs her more than even clowns need the laughter of the crowd

Tell her what was wrong I sometimes think to much But say nothing at all And tell her from this high terrain, I am ready now to fall

Tell her not to go I ain't holding on no more Tell her nothing if not this; all I want to do is kiss her

Tell her something in my mind Freezes up from time to time.
Oh, whatEVER.

I would want to tell him that it wasn't the yelling tone his e-mail had the other day that freaked me out -- if we'd had that same conversation over the phone, I'd have never thought he was yelling at me, and don't I always tell him to write like he talks, anyway? -- but that he did it at all, and without provocation, because it felt distant, like he was trying to cut away another already tenous chord. I would want to tell him that I miss talking to him and that I wish he didn't feel all weirded out by my feelings. And that really, who the hell am I to judge any "relationship" he thinks he's got going? I mean, Christ, it's not like I don't know what "fucked up" is; at this point? I got it, thanks. Preaching to the choir. Whatever. I'm just here in my little corner living, loving, waiting for the time that maybe I won't be just a monthly stop anymore, like a period or an already-read magazine or whatever. Don't mind me. I wouldn't, however, have told him I love him.

Any of that would've made me look feel like a complete asshole -- you know, the whole "I really hate dealing with emotions, especially my own" thing I have. But I still want to know where my phone went.
Oh, whatEVER.

Ok, so I was in high school for this one, yet I looked like I do now, and for some reason, my parents were taking a two-week trip to Russia, and I invited Mer to come along. Thing was, we had a week of school to finish, so Mer and I had to fly back each day to finish (how we were doing that from Russia, I don't know, but it's my dream). So, part of the dream takes place in a hotel room, where Mer knows this dude who lives there or is staying there or whatever, and she and I want to do him. Well, he has a master key to all the hotel rooms, so he comes in, and either I was watching them or another one of our friends was watching them or something, and I'm all freaked out -- yet strangely titillated -- that the dude has a master key. And the next thing I know, I'm walking with Mother toward this HUGE church (again with the churches) -- not because of my perverted thoughts, though. Well, Mother says she has to use the washroom, and the washroom of this church was in a structure outside. She goes in and complains the whole time about whatever (like she's wont to do), and the next thing I know, Mer and I are back in class.

Anyway, so we're watching a filmstrip or something, and Mer wants to go hang out with this chick we used to hang out with, Barb, and doesn't want to go back to Russia for the week after school lets out. I get all hissified, and Mer says something like, "Well, you should've asked me before making these plans," or something similar, and then we're all walking in the dead of winter over the expressway, trying to catch a cab.

After Saturday? There's a lot more symbolism than y'all realize.
Oh, whatEVER.

Did I mention we're all in our low- to mid-30s?
Oh, whatEVER.