He’s a fine fiddle player.
It is Friday, and I am desperate to talk, and find the new fiat of not having to means that I feel very dry.
So it is hard to describe the hallways when the light is just so on an overcast Friday late afternoon and it feels as though I suddenly work in a vampire morgue palace…sleek and shiny and florescent and silent. Everyone marching around as though they know precisely what they need to do, as if they’re ravenous to do it, and I sit at my desk and sort emails and wonder what exactly I am doing among them.
I am thinking, as ever, a bit about J. It is required now, to think a little bit every now and then about him, like it or not. And I do like it. I just am every now and then forced to reconcile myself to the fact that I could have a boyfriend here. With all the flaws and delights that would entail, but here, not on the other side of the country. I don’t desperately want that. I don’t feel I’m being forcibly denied that. I just am mining a vein that may not prove out and how long, how long do we do this? What’s the time frame to ramp up one’s intentions? To say, ok, our liking one another isn’t enough. We have to be aiming to share a time zone, eventually. Just once, at least.
I am not desperate to do this. I am just willing to experience it and see what that feels like. I’m eager to just feel the way we talk about one another that one step further.
Because I said, okay, July, maybe I could come and visit you. And there was no, OH NO, just…oh, and where and what and hmm and of course I want you to, but would you come here and…I, feeling this absence of 1000% thrilled delight, an absence I know would absolutely exist were he to suggest visiting me (even if it might be 85% delight on my part), immediately started backtracking and saying it was just an idea, a thing, a concept. We didn’t have to make plans now. And we don’t…but…if we don’t make plans, then, maybe some other chap who is here and interested, is going to go be interested in someone else and…that’s fine, that’s no big deal, it’s just…it’s kind of a big deal. I guess. If you want to get married and have kids and follow that one path.
I don’t know. I don’t know what belongs to me and what is just something I don’t want taken away from me.
It is Saturday tomorrow. My mouth still feels unfortunate, BUT, it is not falling out of my face and will live, we think, until the cleaning happens. And I did not take the dentist up on a muscle relaxant, but I could see how that might be useful. Kind of planning on getting drunk tomorrow night and forgetting about what fails me.