Star Caster

I am not afraid of language.  I am not afraid of the written word accidentally discovering something for me that I do not currently know I believe.

I am drinking a Slim-Fast shake because I need to get something in my stomach.  I am broke.  I don’t think I’ve ever been so broke in my life.  So, there’s that.  It’s really, I think, a bit grueling mentally.  If I could just know the new job was happening, there could be a light at the end of the tunnel.  Without that, not having money for gas when you’re working 40 hours a week is…insane.

I have, of course, been thinking about boys.  Men.  J. and the Argonaut.  I sort of feel grumpy today about the choice I’ve chosen to keep making.  It’s…an imperfection.  I mean, I’m glad for all of this.  I don’t want to fight and it isn’t a fight, per se, it’s just odd.  To begin to know someone so well that you can miss them when you don’t talk for two hours, to care wildly about what happens to them and the struggles that both match and don’t match your own, about their suffering, to like how they crack jokes, their voice, to be attracted to them and ostensibly how they are attracted to you, to send them a Valentine with ooshy-gushy romantic feelings all over it, but the one piece left for wanting is in somebody else.  Or, at least, it’s something I have to chase after a bit. Having set free this part of myself, the fact that I have to go back to waiting for the IV drip is driving me a bit insane.

Right now, I have this feeling of…who are you to tell me what to do when you’re not around?  Of course, that’s the defintion of loyalty and fidelity.  I just…when does that necessarily kick in?  We haven’t even said this is dating.  It just is…clearly…dating if you’ve talked to someone in some form or another every day for a month.

I am thinking that after V-Day, or after the letters arrive and I see what he’s said and he sees what I said, we’ll arrive at something a bit clearer.  I am trying to figure out how to do this straightforwardness, but it’s…not easy.  I still want the cake and eating it, too.  I still want this comfortable, kind, friendly, watch movies together and share random memes and compliments thing and then also, separately, the RP extravaganza of hedonism that doesn’t make anyone anything but text on a page.

I could be wrong, though.  I could always be wrong.