for another friend . .

I've been too lazy to move my computer over to my apartment, that and my internet cord is my ex's, and I really don't want to hang on to anything that belongs to him. So I go a new apartment with friends that aren't really his friends, got a new hair cut, bought a car, and I'm trying to create a new life where I'm just RockFlower, not rock flower and captain jax. I'm hoping it'll work, but we'll see. *sighs*
anyway, this one's bout my room-mates boyfriend. It's very true of him, but it was fun to write. Another mimic, which was just fun (to read as well)

He flips me over every time I see him, when I would much rather prefer to have my feet on the ground to say hello. What kind of hello can that be when all I see for the next few minutes is the room spinning? Whenever I get the craving to run, he tells me how much he hearts the high school track, while I lay down until the feeling passes. He would drink protein shakes all day if he could afford it, and can’t imagine how I would rather drink a glass of water than the brown sludge. The first time I meet him he told me we could never marry because I love dogs and he despises them. We could never get married for a 1,000 different reasons, but he feels the need to add one more each time he sends me an e-mail or letter. He loves the angry rock, while I prefer the emo punk rock. After spending two years in Wisconsin, he can’t stand cheese. Cheese is a staple part of my life, and I don’t know if my world could turn without it. He hates to read, and hates to write. The only thing I could ever think of possibly doing with myself is writing and reading. He thinks I waste afternoons reading books when I could be out playing ultimate Frisbee. I don’t think it’s time wasted, I was able to spend the afternoon with a person I didn’t know in the first page, and become completely involved in their life for the next 200 pages.
I always talk loud, and he talks so soft that people sitting next to him can’t hear him. My family doesn’t know how to be quiet, so we yell to be heard over the other person, because my story is ultimately better than hers. I stutter a little bit when I talk, and I generally can’t get across the point I’m trying to make. He will create words to suit his purposes, saying something in three sentences that could have been said in three words. I don’t like to be the center of attention, because I know I will be embarrassed and people will laugh at me. He thrives off the attention of others.
I don’t know how to plan anything, and I don’t carry a day planner with me to schedule anything. Everything in his life is planned and sorted. The next 50 years are all planned out, I don’t even know what’s going to happen tonight. He will work for 10 hours a day, hard manual labor. The only thing I can focus on for 10 hours a day would be my writing and in his mind, that’s not work, that’s just writing. When look back on when I meet him I remember intense anger because he told me my dreams to write were stupid and I would make no money. I told him that I don’t need to make money as long as I love what I’m doing, that’s enough for me. But I ask him about all the fights we used to have, the arguments that would make me furious at him for days, he just laughs. For him, those were the best moments of our friendship, the moments when he was he and I was me, and we decided that nothing was stupid enough to break our friendship.

yeah, it needs some work, I realize reading over it again (haven't looked at it for a while)
oh yes, and asmond, I apologize if you felt decieved or if the personal things you wrote you didn't want olf friends reading, but I do enjoy reading the things you write, and seeing a different side of you, that's the best part. :)