"That Was My Favorite Arm..."

This weekend simply was not long enough.

My date-excuse me, my HOTT DATE-could not have been better. I found myself unable to reach my house before it was time to see Home so I stopped at The Writer's place of residence to freshen up. I found Home playing the guitar in his room-I usually find him in his secret labratory creating brilliant musical creatures. We decided to stay at his house and watch Wayne's World-"We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're scum! We suck!"-and order the most delicious pizza ever to be created by two minds that, when combined, become brilliant. Later, we were on our way to the theater so I could finally see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part Two. I cried through most of it, Home became frustrated with it. I adore him.

The following day, I traveled back to Home and we visited The Bassist and his lady-who's nickname is pending-and enjoyed the evening with them. However, we barely made it back to Home's house in one piece: it was quite late at night, or early in the morning if you want to get picky.

Sunday and Monday were also spent with Home. I missed him greatly. I miss him now that I have gone back to school.

Despite my not-so-long weekend, I have a short week and then back to Home on Friday. Hallelujah!

It's Friday, Pumpkin.

I have survived through, yet, another week of college. It feels like I have been here for two months.

I am not sure how I feel about my ballet class: it is definitely more difficult than I thought. My hip hop and yoga classes have been saving my life this week. It has been up and down, side to side, this whole week.

But tomorrow I get to go home.

Home feels like warmth. It sounds like a heartbeat. It looks like the happiest dream that can rise from the subconcious. Home smells musky and earthy. If home had a taste, it would taste rich and sweet.

Home is him. My man.

Tomorrow is Friday and I have got a hot date with home.