I don't know if I expected that meeting Yoshiki would make it easier to forget about him and get on with my life. I should have known better.

I keep thinking about his voice, and the way he grins and tucks his hair behind his ear, and his all-black rugged look of just another normal person in LA [yeah, right]. I wonder where he's going to read the books he bought. Should I picture him at home, on the couch in a studio room, at a restaurant with a girl [or a boy], at a bench in a park?

He was so unbearably cute. His signature is messy. He looks down when he's being polite. I don't know how I didn't just bow to his feet or hug him or grab his hand and whisper in his ear.

He said he would come back. He asked for my store hours. For all I know, I could be restocking when he comes up and calls me by name.

YOSHIKI KNOWS MY FUCKING NAME.

But I'm still paranoid. Now that I've gotten past the first step, I'm getting greedy. I want him to come back. Soon.

A shitty unexpected deveopment is that I'm having a hard time listening to his music without putting it in perspective. I never even liked 'Endless Rain' all that much and now it makes me want to cry.

AGGGHSDFJODFJSKJFD!@IY%FUCK.

Frustration.