Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Cobwebs On My Zipper
I've spent the last week reading every word of this chapter and this is the best I could muster. Sorry it's uber short. I'll work on it.
The etch of a lip print sewed itself to my cheek and I touched it, just to feel the edges.
Relationship wise, I was so much sappier than Melissa. I was the one who never left the room without a kiss, the one who wrote cheesy poems instead of paying attention to Patrick and the one that initiated the handholding. It was nice of her just to put up with all my clichés.
Somehow, that imbalance added to her perfection.
It just made it so every kiss was impossible to shake and every touch on my skin was even harder to forget.
Even though every time I'm with her I search for that sad part of me deep inside myself. But lately it's been getting harder and harder to find. My writing has escalated to 'perky' and I smile stupidly a little bit easier. Good grief, could I be becoming a tolerable person?
Staring across the room led me to Fall Out Land's cutest new couple, Patrick and Jess.
Both blondes lay on the couch, illuminated by the glow of the portable dvd player, as if they had all they'd ever need a centimeter away.
It was strange...Ever since I found out they were together, I'd never seen them kiss and being the most hopeless romantic anyone could hope to find, I couldn't imagine that. Whenever I looked at them, they were joined by the ear, the guitar pick or the shoelaces of their fingers.
Just looking at Patrick shot a pang of jealousy through me. He didn't need constant reassurance she loved him, he was more secure in a relationship than any worthless individual like me could hope to be.
Sighing quietly, as not to disturb the perfect pair, I returned to the notebook page full of one-liners not skilled enough to fit on the lines.
Melissa had turned in early thanks to the bastard that was her headache and slept like an angel on the lucky bastard that was her mattress. And for some stupid reason, I was still sitting in the main attraction of the tour bus watching the lights streak past me like the life I watched go by.
Nothing was coming to me. Nothing had been lately.
I wanted to write, but every word from my fingers sounded forced, like it was the last squeeze of the shampoo bottle and it always ended up hitting the trash can, or in this case, the floor of the bus.
The nightmares still plagued me but at least they'd died down to a gentle roar instead of the fear-created bulldozer that usually hit me. One night, an extra strong dose of terror rolled over me in the late hours and Melissa woke me up with a voice that quavered like a leaf. Not being clever enough to find a good excuse for cold sweat and heavy breathing, I told her about the nightmares. But last time she asked, I told her they'd gone away.
God, why did I have to lie? Everything I ever said to anyone was built on a foundation of lies. I guess without them, I'd die from a crumbled foundation.
Across from my empty page, Jess snuggled deeper into Patrick's heart.
The entire trip had been a hit on the blind sight. No one had expected such hook ups, just a bunch of uninspired performances for a bunch of people who didn't really care and then our friends.
I knew we were back in Chicago even before anyone told me. Chicago has this feeling to it that I could never forget, the unforgettable feeling of home. Desperately, I longed for a broken-in mattress under my back where I could just lie awake for hours. All this sleeping was sending my body into shock.
As we broke the vacuum that encircled Chicago, the clock read 12:53 but no one had enough energy to sleep.
Silently, we all unloaded the bus and crashed like hearts to the beds of the mansion Patrick, Joe and Andy shared.
The etch of a lip print sewed itself to my cheek and I touched it, just to feel the edges.
Relationship wise, I was so much sappier than Melissa. I was the one who never left the room without a kiss, the one who wrote cheesy poems instead of paying attention to Patrick and the one that initiated the handholding. It was nice of her just to put up with all my clichés.
Somehow, that imbalance added to her perfection.
It just made it so every kiss was impossible to shake and every touch on my skin was even harder to forget.
Even though every time I'm with her I search for that sad part of me deep inside myself. But lately it's been getting harder and harder to find. My writing has escalated to 'perky' and I smile stupidly a little bit easier. Good grief, could I be becoming a tolerable person?
Staring across the room led me to Fall Out Land's cutest new couple, Patrick and Jess.
Both blondes lay on the couch, illuminated by the glow of the portable dvd player, as if they had all they'd ever need a centimeter away.
It was strange...Ever since I found out they were together, I'd never seen them kiss and being the most hopeless romantic anyone could hope to find, I couldn't imagine that. Whenever I looked at them, they were joined by the ear, the guitar pick or the shoelaces of their fingers.
Just looking at Patrick shot a pang of jealousy through me. He didn't need constant reassurance she loved him, he was more secure in a relationship than any worthless individual like me could hope to be.
Sighing quietly, as not to disturb the perfect pair, I returned to the notebook page full of one-liners not skilled enough to fit on the lines.
Melissa had turned in early thanks to the bastard that was her headache and slept like an angel on the lucky bastard that was her mattress. And for some stupid reason, I was still sitting in the main attraction of the tour bus watching the lights streak past me like the life I watched go by.
Nothing was coming to me. Nothing had been lately.
I wanted to write, but every word from my fingers sounded forced, like it was the last squeeze of the shampoo bottle and it always ended up hitting the trash can, or in this case, the floor of the bus.
The nightmares still plagued me but at least they'd died down to a gentle roar instead of the fear-created bulldozer that usually hit me. One night, an extra strong dose of terror rolled over me in the late hours and Melissa woke me up with a voice that quavered like a leaf. Not being clever enough to find a good excuse for cold sweat and heavy breathing, I told her about the nightmares. But last time she asked, I told her they'd gone away.
God, why did I have to lie? Everything I ever said to anyone was built on a foundation of lies. I guess without them, I'd die from a crumbled foundation.
Across from my empty page, Jess snuggled deeper into Patrick's heart.
The entire trip had been a hit on the blind sight. No one had expected such hook ups, just a bunch of uninspired performances for a bunch of people who didn't really care and then our friends.
I knew we were back in Chicago even before anyone told me. Chicago has this feeling to it that I could never forget, the unforgettable feeling of home. Desperately, I longed for a broken-in mattress under my back where I could just lie awake for hours. All this sleeping was sending my body into shock.
As we broke the vacuum that encircled Chicago, the clock read 12:53 but no one had enough energy to sleep.
Silently, we all unloaded the bus and crashed like hearts to the beds of the mansion Patrick, Joe and Andy shared.
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