dream about me.

once, there was this boy with perfect feet. i loved them. i would sneak peaks at them whenever i could. strange because all feet make me feel sick and queasy. but these feet made me feel happy and childlike. one time we watched a movie together and he had his feet propped up on the desk in front of us. i watched his feet the whole time. after the movie was over, he asked me if i liked it. i said i loved it. i was talking about his feet. i never loved that boy. just his feet. try as i might, i couldn't love anything but his feet. we are still good friends. i haven't thought about his feet in so long. even now, sitting here writing about his feet, i feel a little queasy because i can't quite remember what they look like. but i know that they do not make me feel sick when i see them in real life. so strange.