And You're So Bad...

When the dust settles, I suddenly realize that I’m alone. Nazi’s, moving, Christians, dating disasters, health crises, and best friends leaving, all keep the mind pretty fucking occupied. Now, as this month is coming to an end, and I’ve moved and my best friend is moved, I’m left somewhat saddened… somewhat unsure of what to do now, for I always need to be doing something… it’s that addictive personality in me… where I need constant dust.

Yesterday I hung out with The Brother (the most recent ex – broke up in October, but are still friends)… and like I say to all my friends, we always want the last person we were with when we haven’t another to occupy our minds.

Our conversation went like this:

The Brother, “I feel like I’m cheating on my girlfriend by hanging out with you. She knows we still talk. I haven’t told her we’re hanging out today, but I certainly will.”

Miss Curious, half jokingly, “that’s odd. We are just friends. The only reason you’d probably feel like you were cheating is if you still had feelings for me…. So it’s not really that we’re hanging out – it’s just that hanging out reminds you of your unrequited love for me.”

The Brother replies, “no comment.” Smirk.

I laugh half uncomfortable - half nostalgic… wishing we were back in that comfort of being together… of knowing I was with a sweet, intelligent man, who would only be good to me… of knowing that I didn’t have to be in the game anymore. And I forget, why I didn’t want to be with him anymore.

I reached out, hugged him, and whispered, “I know.”

But he has a girlfriend now. And we’d probably end up the way we are now. Broken-up. When I closed the car door and watched him drive away, it was such a sad reminder of something that had so much potential and fell so short… and I know I’m trapped… I’m so trapped… I know that everything will fall short.

And the whole weekend was this sudden hex of loneliness. Friday night was filled with friends and break-dancing and dancing like nobody was watching and too much alcohol and at 2 am when I closed down the bar, I got into a cab by myself. And the alcohol couldn’t comfort me this time…no, not this time… and my room was so quiet. I hate quiet.

Saturday morning, hung over, I walked to my best friend’s house. And we packed up the U-haul… I’d spent so many nights in that room. Now it was empty. And people leave. They always leave.

On a lighter note, here’s a pic of my new casa: