thats how he makes me feel. a bit uncomfortable. i rarely feel so vulnerable as when he speaks. not healthy "i'm baring my soul" vulnerable. more "caught between the dropped towel and any form of clothing" vulnerable. strange. i have no tie to him. barely know his name. but his face is has been inconveniently stamped in my memory. and now i'm just wondering why. why it is there's so much i can't remember and somehow i'm finding it difficult to forget his odd stare. sometimes's its like the happy moments have been thrown out by the sadistic little man who manages the file labeled memories. bitter little man, only keeping the dark and painful. note to self: fire his ass.
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