Josh

Hey you! Remember me? I know you do..sometimes I think I feel you thinking of me. No way to really know, but maybe. To be honest, I really don't remember the first time we met. Odd. But that wasn't really the compelling part of our story anyway huh? I do remember Hannah wanting me to go out with you..you were good friends with her boyfriend, or "filthy cheater" as I like to call him. Okay, I know, he was a good friend to you and the filthy part is just plain catty...but it's my blog and I don't care. He hurt her so bad...screwed her up, made her feel like not enough for so long. . .anyway, apparently those two thought we might just be perfect for each other and they set it up. Hannah loved you so much. She described your big muscles, your tattoos, your beautiful blond hair and tan skin...hey, you sound like something out of a trashy novel, I can give you more than that..don't get frustrated. After her detailed tribute to your physical glory, Filthy cheater, rather hesitantly brought up your stutter. To which I ignorantly replied, "Wait, is he...um,..slow?" He took that as a personal insult and painstakingly explained to me that no, you were one of the smartest people he knew and that you didn't exactly stutter like someone they're making fun of on TV, and then sighed an exasperated sigh and told me I'd just have to wait and see. He loved you too. (Is it weird that I remember the ride to meet you, but not the actual meeting of you?)

I think we must have met in the parking lot - and apparently I did, in fact, like you and thought you were every bit of that romance novel guy. The "stutter" proved to be more of a hesitation before speaking, than an actual stutter..I would find out later that the real stutter only really came out when you were mad,..and drunk,..and about to stomp someone. I'll bet you had a shitty time growing up. Wish I had asked. The icing on the cake was that you originally came up from Houma, LA and that made you mysterious and interesting. Your accent was so charming to us. We came back to that little ratty party house you and Edward rented on the South side of town. It was filled with furniture destined to break, and be rearranged for party purposes. Little, old-timey gas heaters populated every room - before y'all, some mamaw must have been pretty cold. I vaguely remember sitting on the couch, listening to music. For once (I would come to find out) there was nothing going on there and we decided to go ride around. You swung open the front door to six girls heading up the steps looking extremely pissed. You put your arm in front of me like mama's do to kids in the front seat when they think they're going to have an accident. You scooted me back in the house, told me to stay there and disappeared out the door. This was crazy. I decided to go see what was going on. Bad idea. (Not my best assertion of independence) Six angry girls glared at me, insults and names flew. I stood by your side while you argued with one, rather large-boned girl (note to Internet - that's not my bitchy way of saying she was overweight - she really was big boned,.. kind of stocky, emphasis on the boned, not the big) From what I gathered, you two were 'friends' and she had strong feelings for you and apparently (according to you) she had gotten the wrong idea..now she was running with this wrong idea in the direction of possessive. (I just want to take this moment and bust you out...we both know WHERE she probably got the wrong idea..rolling my eyes at you as I type) Some tall bitch from out of town showing up on a night you hadn't answered her pages was just enough to send her over the edge. Walking outside was a bad idea. I was scared of these girls. They were scar-y. At one point, some little scrappy thing stepped up to me with some harsh words and questions. I plastered on the poker face, raised an eyebrow and put my face as close to hers as it would go. I tried like hell to make my voice steady and solid, while telling her to get the fuck out of my face. She looked me in the eye for a minute and then stepped down, talked your "friend" out of this silly little endeavor and they left. I remember you apologizing over and over as we climbed into that old Camaro of yours. You were quiet in the car, but you put your hand on my knee and my fifteen year old self thought "Finally! A boyfriend..Finally Is this really happening? If we had children they would be the most beautiful little blond haired angels.." Down Main St. we went, in a teal muscle car. I kissed you at the red light...there we go..Can you see us from where you are?

To be continued.. (I'm sorry internet - my bosses are giving me all this crap to do..it's like they want me to use this thing for 'work' or something..sigh..I'll be back tomorrow, I promise..kisses)