i burn all the hairs off on his arms with matches, but then finish with a bic lighter for better flame consistency. 
he calls me because he is dizzy and sick, so i make homemade fish and chips and bring them around, followed by icecream.
i make his tea for him. 
i shave his hair off and ask him not to kiss me, ever.
i flinch away from his orange tinted touch
but later i wrap him up with my cardigans and sweet nothings
we listen to cute songs for cute girls

i hate the idea of love, relationships and affection
but he laughs, tells me that’s just an affectation

cool.

 last night he and I went to a Family Group Conference for the young man who stole my scooter a few weeks back (you can read about it in the news here). 

Attending were the police, his family, his lawyer, his social worker and him- the offender. The poor guy was exhausted, sick, and ashamed, but made such an effort to show up and apologize to me. 
He was just bored and unhappy the night he stole it. He actually wants to be a chef and make something of his life, and support his mum. 

It made me really hopeful for his future. 

Afterwards my lovely took me out for a Japanese meal, my favourite, and he is my favourite too. 
I hope next time we meet the young guy in a few weeks his life will be looking up.

i feel like my “love language” is awkwardness.

being a student is straight the opposite of being a real grown up. 
when you grow up you get paid to work real hard and pour yourself out
when you’re a student you pay to work real hard and pour yourself out over nothing
what a waste