You're a little too far away- and I miss the cracked door, and your smile, and everything. & I wanted to pluck a flower from the thirty fresh colors sitting slightly over my head, take it to you. Just because. The tension and ?sadness?frustration? lacing through your voice make my heart and fingers ache, because my body/heart/everything simply wants to swaddle you and make love with you for hours on end-- make you smile and laugh and raise the wash of flush across your cheeks. 3/5 isn't bad. I guess. I'd even take 4/5, leaving our love making to rise as slowly as it will (though isn't going-on three years slow enough?).
Because today, I made you laugh, and such a simple thing shocked into a (for you) difficult sort of day struck a lightning-red streak of happiness into me. & for once, I wasn't the only one who saw it- that endearingly casual intimacy that parades around us, between us, shrugging me(us?) into queer confusion. "Aren't you two chummy?" [I can think of thirty-two better words, none of which could accurately say what is brewing, boiling over and I don't want to contain it any longer.]
What I'm saying is that I'm crazy about you. Blindingly rocked by each crack of your smile, each lock and tremor of our china blue/icy green connection, the warming luck of the way we stand so close and speak in a manner I can only describe as intimate. My palms lay flat for you, waiting for your touch to slip into mine. You've no (visible) recognition of how we would be, and I sit on the outskirts, tender to every glance and movement, already knowing, continually wanting.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Monday, August 25, 2008
drown out my wanting / drown out my fear
And it was all worth it- the blistering
toes and ankles, the sheen of sweat
veiling my skin, the untameable
flips of longer hair. My piloted sense
of authority twining my irrepressible
free spirit, that daunting, docile creature
twirling below an adopted look of astringency.
Seventy, ninety-odd bodies mashing
through, jonesing for the first breath of fresh air.
You passed to my left, your gaze flickering
across our paths, inches again- you sway so close to me-
and my eyes sought your summer's blue with some unfurled
awareness (proximity, seventh sense, the heart's
wanderings). I saw, you know.
I saw your first and second glances. The tripped-up
gentle whiplash of a moment passing too quickly,
a chance to impress an image into the curiousities
of your memory. One, two. Twice.
I smiled through both, wishing my mouth had a sense
to open on its own. And your beauty trailed me,
seeks me out several hours later. It compounds emotions
and mislabels wanderlust, because we both know and
because we both won't say.
toes and ankles, the sheen of sweat
veiling my skin, the untameable
flips of longer hair. My piloted sense
of authority twining my irrepressible
free spirit, that daunting, docile creature
twirling below an adopted look of astringency.
Seventy, ninety-odd bodies mashing
through, jonesing for the first breath of fresh air.
You passed to my left, your gaze flickering
across our paths, inches again- you sway so close to me-
and my eyes sought your summer's blue with some unfurled
awareness (proximity, seventh sense, the heart's
wanderings). I saw, you know.
I saw your first and second glances. The tripped-up
gentle whiplash of a moment passing too quickly,
a chance to impress an image into the curiousities
of your memory. One, two. Twice.
I smiled through both, wishing my mouth had a sense
to open on its own. And your beauty trailed me,
seeks me out several hours later. It compounds emotions
and mislabels wanderlust, because we both know and
because we both won't say.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
you're something beautiful / a contradiction
I had a healthy dose of Real Friends today, enclosing a few minutes with formerly mentioned not-so-real friends. [Also, those minutes? That's where I made a totally snarky comment directed at the married-friend who is shtupping her lesbian BFF, and my best friend's girlfriend nearly choked on her laughter and it went so over everyone else's heads, but oh so worth it.] SO it's good to see my Real Friends that can hang out without being drunk. Not-So-Real Friends? Yup, in line several times at the beer tent. Cheers.
And I saw AC today. She walked past us, in all her cuteness, and leaned over, smiled, waved. I swooned internally, smiled and waved back. She was "working" ... and I thought about going over to chat, but walked around for a few hours with my friends instead. Eventually, we were standing twentyish feet from where AC was working, and it was hot, and we didn't want to walk anymore, so we stayed there. & commence good friending, as they were delighting me with "She just looked over here. She keeps looking over here" and the like. Which was super, you know, because it's always fun to even think you're being admired/checked out/whatev. But I am a nerd/social-awk of a slight degree, and I was getting nervous just thinking about going to talk to her.
Truth is, I sucked it up. I'm tired of letting opportunities pass by, on any level, because of holding myself back. Out of what? Fear of something good happening? I've done nothing in my life to deserve nothing but shit, but until I start acting in a positive manner and taking little (healthy) risks here and there, nothing's going to change.
I walked right over and gave her a dazzling smile, which was dazzlingly returned (she has an amazing smile, the kind that warms your insides, and she has stellar eyes, incomparable, to match). And we chatted, her opening with: "I keep seeing you everywhere lately!" [Well that's a good thing, yeah?] It was so simple, I wanted to kick myself, repeatedly, in the ass. Totally natural flow, got some good info, opened up, ta-fucking-da. She then offered me a massage (here's where I explain that she is an on-off-again massage therapist, which is how I originally met her // she worked with my sister, and I actually worked there for a bit as well // and she was giving chair massages today, hence the offer), and of course I accepted because A) why would I ever turn one down?, and B) her offer to put her hands all over my neck and back? Um, yes please!
& then there was that. Which was fantastic. Small talk, of course, is hard when your face is smashed into the little face-holder on a massage chair/table. She joked around with me, and I was able to laugh, kind of. Joke/flirt. I think? So dense, here. So terribly dense. Post-massage, she gave me that damn sparkling smile and said, "I hope it was good for you." See, I don't generally fall for lines like that, and I already knew from years ago that AC is a wicked flirt (and she is damn good at it), but it still made me go a little 'Oooh yeah.' Cue more flirty small talk, ending with her saying, "I'm sure I'll see you soon," and a most wonderful tight, few-extra-second hug.
& I may or may not have fallen in love. HAH. Just kidding, really. I may fall easily, but it takes a little more than that.
At any rate, cue the reignition of my little crush on AC. It's a healthy little bugger. The thought of her makes me smile, blah blah blah. Just a crying fucking shame we never went out all those years ago. Who's to say we couldn't now? I mean, obviously, I'd have to formally extricate myself from my girlfriend, who has cut me off of communication with her because I am pms'ing and being "out of control," which just means she's seeing that I'm unhappy with Us but doesn't want to face it. I like that one of my real-friends (ah! the one that I dated a few years ago and now has the girlfriend and I finally did see them today, and it was actually lovely, except said girl and I still maybe feel the attraction, but whatever, tolerable) just said: "Don't let your girlfriend be an asshole to you." And my response: "I'm the asshole now, sadly."
Oh what the fuck am I doing.
[And I forgot about the part when she pushed her sunglasses off of her eyes and onto the top of her head because, she said, she doesn't like talking to people while wearing sunglasses (they or her) because you can't see where they're looking and all of a sudden I realize she cared where we were looking. & when she took off those sunglasses, & there was a maddening airtight lock of stare, I think I remembered why I'd liked her so years ago. Some people I used to know used to tell me that they could get lost in my eyes, and I never understood what they meant, but when she took of the sunglasses and our yellow-green // Caribbean blue recognized each other, I think I felt lost- in the most satisfying, intriguing of ways.]
And I saw AC today. She walked past us, in all her cuteness, and leaned over, smiled, waved. I swooned internally, smiled and waved back. She was "working" ... and I thought about going over to chat, but walked around for a few hours with my friends instead. Eventually, we were standing twentyish feet from where AC was working, and it was hot, and we didn't want to walk anymore, so we stayed there. & commence good friending, as they were delighting me with "She just looked over here. She keeps looking over here" and the like. Which was super, you know, because it's always fun to even think you're being admired/checked out/whatev. But I am a nerd/social-awk of a slight degree, and I was getting nervous just thinking about going to talk to her.
Truth is, I sucked it up. I'm tired of letting opportunities pass by, on any level, because of holding myself back. Out of what? Fear of something good happening? I've done nothing in my life to deserve nothing but shit, but until I start acting in a positive manner and taking little (healthy) risks here and there, nothing's going to change.
I walked right over and gave her a dazzling smile, which was dazzlingly returned (she has an amazing smile, the kind that warms your insides, and she has stellar eyes, incomparable, to match). And we chatted, her opening with: "I keep seeing you everywhere lately!" [Well that's a good thing, yeah?] It was so simple, I wanted to kick myself, repeatedly, in the ass. Totally natural flow, got some good info, opened up, ta-fucking-da. She then offered me a massage (here's where I explain that she is an on-off-again massage therapist, which is how I originally met her // she worked with my sister, and I actually worked there for a bit as well // and she was giving chair massages today, hence the offer), and of course I accepted because A) why would I ever turn one down?, and B) her offer to put her hands all over my neck and back? Um, yes please!
& then there was that. Which was fantastic. Small talk, of course, is hard when your face is smashed into the little face-holder on a massage chair/table. She joked around with me, and I was able to laugh, kind of. Joke/flirt. I think? So dense, here. So terribly dense. Post-massage, she gave me that damn sparkling smile and said, "I hope it was good for you." See, I don't generally fall for lines like that, and I already knew from years ago that AC is a wicked flirt (and she is damn good at it), but it still made me go a little 'Oooh yeah.' Cue more flirty small talk, ending with her saying, "I'm sure I'll see you soon," and a most wonderful tight, few-extra-second hug.
& I may or may not have fallen in love. HAH. Just kidding, really. I may fall easily, but it takes a little more than that.
At any rate, cue the reignition of my little crush on AC. It's a healthy little bugger. The thought of her makes me smile, blah blah blah. Just a crying fucking shame we never went out all those years ago. Who's to say we couldn't now? I mean, obviously, I'd have to formally extricate myself from my girlfriend, who has cut me off of communication with her because I am pms'ing and being "out of control," which just means she's seeing that I'm unhappy with Us but doesn't want to face it. I like that one of my real-friends (ah! the one that I dated a few years ago and now has the girlfriend and I finally did see them today, and it was actually lovely, except said girl and I still maybe feel the attraction, but whatever, tolerable) just said: "Don't let your girlfriend be an asshole to you." And my response: "I'm the asshole now, sadly."
Oh what the fuck am I doing.
[And I forgot about the part when she pushed her sunglasses off of her eyes and onto the top of her head because, she said, she doesn't like talking to people while wearing sunglasses (they or her) because you can't see where they're looking and all of a sudden I realize she cared where we were looking. & when she took off those sunglasses, & there was a maddening airtight lock of stare, I think I remembered why I'd liked her so years ago. Some people I used to know used to tell me that they could get lost in my eyes, and I never understood what they meant, but when she took of the sunglasses and our yellow-green // Caribbean blue recognized each other, I think I felt lost- in the most satisfying, intriguing of ways.]
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
I wrote down a dream in invisible ink
...it never was mine I'm beginning to think
Tonight I went to see OTR for the first time, and so loved every moment (except for the part when I came home and searched through my iTunes for a good 20 minutes trying to find my favorite song of the night, and came up empty-handed, and then Googled like a fool, and still came up empty). And then I was moronic and bought their new cd on iTunes without first checking with emusic ... and of course emusic has the new cd, which I could have gotten along with 20 other songs in about a week, for $10 total. But, no. I was impatient and acted without researching, a typical move of mine signifying one of my tragic downfalls. Granted, this oversight probably won't kill me. But it does affect my bank account, and after my ten minutes of panic this afternoon that spawned from my procrastination skills and registering for a 500-level class toward my MA that I am not thrilled with but had no choice and then coughed out $1200 (which'll be reimbursed, say, February) to cement my seat in said unthrilling course, I am a little antsy about money. And that'll pass after my next check is automatically deposited. So. Whatever.
OTR's lead singer sounds, when speaking, unnervingly similar to Margo Timmins. Their singing voices are totally different, which I always find odd, how people sound one way when they speak, and another way when they sing. I'm always fascinated by people with British speaking accents who have almost no noticeable accent when singing.
The C.Junkies connection made me think back to when she bought me/us tickets, spur of the moment, to see C.Junkies. I like spur of the moment, especially when it's something that amazing. I'd never seen C.J. before, but I'd loved them for fourish years, and they were one of my Top Bands That I Must See Live. [Currently dominating the list: EBTG.] And she knew that, that I really wanted to see C.J., or at the very least, she remembered me talking about how much I love them. The catch was, she'd made plans with a friend that night... but said she would go do her thing with him, then meet me at the concert.
I should have realized at that point that something was fucked up there. I'd come up for the weekend, and we had approximately 36 hours to spend together. And she was going out with a friend? While I was, what, sitting at home waiting for her to come home... after I'd driven 300+ miles to see her? My density astounds me, still.
So I went to the concert. More accurately, she dropped me off, I went inside, and she drove off to meet her friend. I proceeded to have a few beers, listen to the music, and completely enjoy myself- without her. Which is fine, because I believe in independence within relationships, but now that I really think about it, I don't so much believe in having a long distance relationship and traveling to see your girlfriend but she has other plans... that never involved you. Miraculously, she finds a way to occupy your time, which you appreciate, but while you're standing there wondering when she's joining you, the wheels start turning a little too fast, and maybe things stop connecting and making sense.
She never joined me, she never used the ticket she bought for herself. She picked me up when she was finished, not when I was finished. & I remember her being full of apologies and searching for reassurances. I must have given them to her, probably because I was definitely buzzed. I vaguely remember getting angry later in the night, but stuffing it down because it didn't seem worth it, somehow: I'd gotten to see one of my favorite bands, and truthfully, she wouldn't have enjoyed seeing them with me. So I don't even know if there's anything wrong with this. It still doesn't feel right.
I don't like doing everything by myself, but I've become intensely independent as of late. Tonight, for example, I had two tickets for OTR, and was completely undecided on whether to go alone or drag one of my friends with me (since none of them listen to OTR). I ended up taking my best friend, and she was very appreciative as always, but when I really thought about it, I realized that I would have been okay going by myself. Because I do everything by myself. There's nothing wrong with that, but I don't like feeling so unattached to the fact that I do, in fact, have a girlfriend. The balance is off; it's never been on.
I don't know what I'm looking for, because I'm not looking for anything, but I no longer know what to do with what I have.
Today, you stood so close to me that I could have leaned ever so slightly to the left and been tucked into the welcoming space between your extended arm and your warm torso. We spoke, we eye-contacted like bandits when we were one-on-one, and I was able to drink in the details of your profile. I felt the heat from your body when you were standing next to me, so close I didn't know how to react. But, the beauty.
On a totally unrelated note: Thank GOD Nekisa has finally been booted from Shear Genius.
Tonight I went to see OTR for the first time, and so loved every moment (except for the part when I came home and searched through my iTunes for a good 20 minutes trying to find my favorite song of the night, and came up empty-handed, and then Googled like a fool, and still came up empty). And then I was moronic and bought their new cd on iTunes without first checking with emusic ... and of course emusic has the new cd, which I could have gotten along with 20 other songs in about a week, for $10 total. But, no. I was impatient and acted without researching, a typical move of mine signifying one of my tragic downfalls. Granted, this oversight probably won't kill me. But it does affect my bank account, and after my ten minutes of panic this afternoon that spawned from my procrastination skills and registering for a 500-level class toward my MA that I am not thrilled with but had no choice and then coughed out $1200 (which'll be reimbursed, say, February) to cement my seat in said unthrilling course, I am a little antsy about money. And that'll pass after my next check is automatically deposited. So. Whatever.
OTR's lead singer sounds, when speaking, unnervingly similar to Margo Timmins. Their singing voices are totally different, which I always find odd, how people sound one way when they speak, and another way when they sing. I'm always fascinated by people with British speaking accents who have almost no noticeable accent when singing.
The C.Junkies connection made me think back to when she bought me/us tickets, spur of the moment, to see C.Junkies. I like spur of the moment, especially when it's something that amazing. I'd never seen C.J. before, but I'd loved them for fourish years, and they were one of my Top Bands That I Must See Live. [Currently dominating the list: EBTG.] And she knew that, that I really wanted to see C.J., or at the very least, she remembered me talking about how much I love them. The catch was, she'd made plans with a friend that night... but said she would go do her thing with him, then meet me at the concert.
I should have realized at that point that something was fucked up there. I'd come up for the weekend, and we had approximately 36 hours to spend together. And she was going out with a friend? While I was, what, sitting at home waiting for her to come home... after I'd driven 300+ miles to see her? My density astounds me, still.
So I went to the concert. More accurately, she dropped me off, I went inside, and she drove off to meet her friend. I proceeded to have a few beers, listen to the music, and completely enjoy myself- without her. Which is fine, because I believe in independence within relationships, but now that I really think about it, I don't so much believe in having a long distance relationship and traveling to see your girlfriend but she has other plans... that never involved you. Miraculously, she finds a way to occupy your time, which you appreciate, but while you're standing there wondering when she's joining you, the wheels start turning a little too fast, and maybe things stop connecting and making sense.
She never joined me, she never used the ticket she bought for herself. She picked me up when she was finished, not when I was finished. & I remember her being full of apologies and searching for reassurances. I must have given them to her, probably because I was definitely buzzed. I vaguely remember getting angry later in the night, but stuffing it down because it didn't seem worth it, somehow: I'd gotten to see one of my favorite bands, and truthfully, she wouldn't have enjoyed seeing them with me. So I don't even know if there's anything wrong with this. It still doesn't feel right.
I don't like doing everything by myself, but I've become intensely independent as of late. Tonight, for example, I had two tickets for OTR, and was completely undecided on whether to go alone or drag one of my friends with me (since none of them listen to OTR). I ended up taking my best friend, and she was very appreciative as always, but when I really thought about it, I realized that I would have been okay going by myself. Because I do everything by myself. There's nothing wrong with that, but I don't like feeling so unattached to the fact that I do, in fact, have a girlfriend. The balance is off; it's never been on.
I don't know what I'm looking for, because I'm not looking for anything, but I no longer know what to do with what I have.
Today, you stood so close to me that I could have leaned ever so slightly to the left and been tucked into the welcoming space between your extended arm and your warm torso. We spoke, we eye-contacted like bandits when we were one-on-one, and I was able to drink in the details of your profile. I felt the heat from your body when you were standing next to me, so close I didn't know how to react. But, the beauty.
On a totally unrelated note: Thank GOD Nekisa has finally been booted from Shear Genius.
Monday, August 04, 2008
I bet she wanted you all this time
Tonight, I got as far as opening a blank Word Document. The thoughts were there, tangled with the metaphors and deeply imbedded symbolism- all neatly arranged in my head. I already knew, opening the document, what I wanted the first sentence to be.
And then it snapped out of my head. As soon as I typed ", it was all gone. I think that's someone's way of telling me that I shouldn't open this thing, this monolith of "unrequited love", with dialogue. I can accept that; I just didn't have/inspire another idea.
Instead of writing something new, I flipped through some things that I wrote back in 2004, and then started working on again last summer. In that, I found the beginning of a short story that was detailing the state of my relationship last July. & in reading that for the first time since July 2007, I was horrified, scared, and saddended.
Sometimes being strong is overrated. Sometimes accepting defeat is the best thing a person can do.
I think I'm getting closer to figuring these things out.
And then it snapped out of my head. As soon as I typed ", it was all gone. I think that's someone's way of telling me that I shouldn't open this thing, this monolith of "unrequited love", with dialogue. I can accept that; I just didn't have/inspire another idea.
Instead of writing something new, I flipped through some things that I wrote back in 2004, and then started working on again last summer. In that, I found the beginning of a short story that was detailing the state of my relationship last July. & in reading that for the first time since July 2007, I was horrified, scared, and saddended.
Sometimes being strong is overrated. Sometimes accepting defeat is the best thing a person can do.
I think I'm getting closer to figuring these things out.
I'm going to buy back memories / to awaken some old qualities
I've waited for that moment- the one where even when we're standing in a sea of 50+ other people, there's complete silence around us, encapsulating us, buffering us from any/every/thing/one. The one where you're standing right next to me, close enough to speak lowly almost in secret (like we've done before, when my heart was hammering inside my chest but my hand held the pen like a captive, steady and consistent, never waivering). The one where I casually say hello, ask how you are. Smile directly into your eyes because while we don't have a problem with eye contact, we seem unable to move past the stage where we express emotion outside of the locked glances. Keep it simple, easy, just hi how are you.
Easy.
I had that moment today. I had the ability to open my mouth and yank out the words, phrases so fucking casual that I can throw them at complete strangers, but so unnervingly tender when it comes to you. My hand was shaking with the slightest tremor as I scrawled in giant, black block letters. You were still there, right next to me. I couldn't hear anything other than HI HOW ARE YOU spinning in my head. Warp speed. I couldn't open my mouth. You didn't either, because you never do. No, okay, maybe you do, sometimes. & I do, sometimes. But not today. Neither of us, today.
I've always vaguely understood/surmised that you and I are a little bit alike- in that we both spend a lot of time in our heads. That maybe when we don't open our mouths, we might be thinking of saying hi, but we're also thinking of 87 other really important things and then the moment's gone, lost really forever but I don't mean that to be as world-ending as it seems, it just is, because that exact moment will never happen again. Well, I guess it could happen tomorrow. And the next day. But not after that.
What this means is that I have to be the bold one. I have to be the one to force myself to open my mouth, to get past the semi-ridiculous dramatizations debuting on an hourly basis in my head. You probably don't hate me. You probably also don't like me as much as I want you to, but that's negotiable, and that's also okay. I can't articulate what I want, realistically, but I know that I hate the fact that we ignore each other- purposely or otherwise. I don't want you to think that I don't like you. Maybe you don't care as much as I do- I almost know that you don't, because I care about you/this/us inordinately so- but I think [hope] that you care at least a little bit.
And if you don't, then that will be okay too.
I just want to get past this block in my heart. I just want to say hi, and I just want you to know that I wonder how you are.
Easy.
I had that moment today. I had the ability to open my mouth and yank out the words, phrases so fucking casual that I can throw them at complete strangers, but so unnervingly tender when it comes to you. My hand was shaking with the slightest tremor as I scrawled in giant, black block letters. You were still there, right next to me. I couldn't hear anything other than HI HOW ARE YOU spinning in my head. Warp speed. I couldn't open my mouth. You didn't either, because you never do. No, okay, maybe you do, sometimes. & I do, sometimes. But not today. Neither of us, today.
I've always vaguely understood/surmised that you and I are a little bit alike- in that we both spend a lot of time in our heads. That maybe when we don't open our mouths, we might be thinking of saying hi, but we're also thinking of 87 other really important things and then the moment's gone, lost really forever but I don't mean that to be as world-ending as it seems, it just is, because that exact moment will never happen again. Well, I guess it could happen tomorrow. And the next day. But not after that.
What this means is that I have to be the bold one. I have to be the one to force myself to open my mouth, to get past the semi-ridiculous dramatizations debuting on an hourly basis in my head. You probably don't hate me. You probably also don't like me as much as I want you to, but that's negotiable, and that's also okay. I can't articulate what I want, realistically, but I know that I hate the fact that we ignore each other- purposely or otherwise. I don't want you to think that I don't like you. Maybe you don't care as much as I do- I almost know that you don't, because I care about you/this/us inordinately so- but I think [hope] that you care at least a little bit.
And if you don't, then that will be okay too.
I just want to get past this block in my heart. I just want to say hi, and I just want you to know that I wonder how you are.
Sunday, August 03, 2008
everything is bigger than me, even stars, even dreams
Earlier this evening, I was sitting in my favorite courtyard downtown, and we have such a love/hate relationship, me and that courtyard. I love it most in the summer, when the sun is trickling down through the arching tree branches that act like a leaky roof- ineffective but beautiful nonetheless. But then I hate it most in the summer, specifically the first week of August, when it's overrun with locals and visitors and the stale sticky smell of spilled beer clashes with the terribly appetizing odor of all things fried food. & I hate it when these strangers, so foreign, trample through without recognizing an inch of the beauty in that courtyard, and yet I can't hold them responsible because you can barely see the history through the retina-burning colored tents, nor can you take your eyes off of the parade of sometimes horrifyingly clad people weaving over the bricks and around the trees and stray chairs.
I was sitting there, ignoring the pressing crowd around me, filtering through the rinse cycle in my brain. I was thinking about how I'd seen AC again today, how she'd smiled big and waved from across the street, looking dangerously cute as usual, but that's where it ended. & I was thinking about the lesbians, god they were out in droves today. Everywhere. But they weren't cute, and I was feeling disheartened as I always do when I see large groups of unattractive lesbians. It's so common, that train of thought-- "I'm going to be alone forever because the women that I find attractive are either A) horrible for me, or B) seemingly unattainable." So I started to feel pathetic for a hot minute, but then I remembered all of the options I have, like the nervous ability to transfer my skills to a different city, a different state, even a different country.
I have three friends that uprooted their lives, moved respectively to Wisconsin, Virginia/DC, and California. All three moved for professional reasons; two for jobs, one for working on her MBA. All three moved without attachments to any sort of attraction or romance. In fact, two of them moved from my area and both had dated me, at separate times (different years, actually), but neither was involved with me when she moved. The possibilities, for each of them, were limitless. They had no ties of the heart to contend with. They went, and they did. Not surprisingly, all three of them found love in the places that they moved to. They unearthed, uprooted, and discovered. My envy is tangible.
It's especially resonant now because one of those friends, the one who is currently living in California, is in town for a couple of weeks and we're planning on catching up this week. I can already hear what she's going to tell me- nothing I haven't already whispered to myself- about my job, my life, my romantic endeavors, and my unfailing like for the Obscure Object. Because we've had so many similar conversations in the past, even when she was trying to get in my pants, I can hear her tone of voice, hear the exact words she'll say. Comforting and scary. She's usually right. Sometimes I forget about how she asked me to drop everything and move to California with her. Sometimes I forget about how stubborn I can be.
The thoughts have waned now. It's one of my tragic downfalls. I write a novel in my head but can't get it out quick enough, and then it strings into pieces and disappears.
I'll see the Obscure Object tomorrow. I tried to force myself to write today, but I argued with myself. Again. Because I can't yet let go of what's in my head. Because I can't look her in the eye without feeling a porcupine scamper through my lungs. Because I don't even know what's real anymore.
I was sitting there, ignoring the pressing crowd around me, filtering through the rinse cycle in my brain. I was thinking about how I'd seen AC again today, how she'd smiled big and waved from across the street, looking dangerously cute as usual, but that's where it ended. & I was thinking about the lesbians, god they were out in droves today. Everywhere. But they weren't cute, and I was feeling disheartened as I always do when I see large groups of unattractive lesbians. It's so common, that train of thought-- "I'm going to be alone forever because the women that I find attractive are either A) horrible for me, or B) seemingly unattainable." So I started to feel pathetic for a hot minute, but then I remembered all of the options I have, like the nervous ability to transfer my skills to a different city, a different state, even a different country.
I have three friends that uprooted their lives, moved respectively to Wisconsin, Virginia/DC, and California. All three moved for professional reasons; two for jobs, one for working on her MBA. All three moved without attachments to any sort of attraction or romance. In fact, two of them moved from my area and both had dated me, at separate times (different years, actually), but neither was involved with me when she moved. The possibilities, for each of them, were limitless. They had no ties of the heart to contend with. They went, and they did. Not surprisingly, all three of them found love in the places that they moved to. They unearthed, uprooted, and discovered. My envy is tangible.
It's especially resonant now because one of those friends, the one who is currently living in California, is in town for a couple of weeks and we're planning on catching up this week. I can already hear what she's going to tell me- nothing I haven't already whispered to myself- about my job, my life, my romantic endeavors, and my unfailing like for the Obscure Object. Because we've had so many similar conversations in the past, even when she was trying to get in my pants, I can hear her tone of voice, hear the exact words she'll say. Comforting and scary. She's usually right. Sometimes I forget about how she asked me to drop everything and move to California with her. Sometimes I forget about how stubborn I can be.
The thoughts have waned now. It's one of my tragic downfalls. I write a novel in my head but can't get it out quick enough, and then it strings into pieces and disappears.
I'll see the Obscure Object tomorrow. I tried to force myself to write today, but I argued with myself. Again. Because I can't yet let go of what's in my head. Because I can't look her in the eye without feeling a porcupine scamper through my lungs. Because I don't even know what's real anymore.
Saturday, August 02, 2008
one foot nailed to the ground
Today I ran into an old flame that never caught fire. I didn't think I'd recognize her, and I probably wouldn't have if she hadn't been standing beneath the sign of a building where we both worked (and consequently met/flirted something fierce), and if she hadn't been wearing a shirt with that company's logo. As it was, I did a triple-take before saying to J, "Uhm, isn't that AC?" And it was... probably due to my three whiplash looks in her direction, AC came over--- because she recognized J. Not me- which makes sense because like I said, I wouldn't have recognized her if I'd passed her on the street (it's been a good four+ years since we've really been face to face). So, of course, J felt the need to say to AC, "And you remember _______, right?" Awesome. I was happy to go unnoticed, but oh no. Not in the plans today. Small talk followed, laden with short-scripted details of 'where are you now' and 'how's the family.' It was surprisingly awkward, probably because AC and I never got our act together. Years ago, like I said, the flirting was rampant, and the attraction was obvious. But we never actually found time to explore our connection outside of work. Wasn't meant to be, clearly. Regardless, she has been an always-wonder for me.
She's totally hot, okay. And I am not immune to these things. AC has the most amazing smile, and she is a charmer. But I can't date charmers anymore. I usually discover that's all they've got to offer: charm. & usually a great smile that they then try to use to get them out of trouble. I'm not so much into saving graces anymore.
But today- there wasn't any spark. No butterflies. No unattractive sweating. Just, hey, how are you. I probably came off as aloof, but I am aloof sometimes, and like hell would I want AC to know, at this juncture, that I still entertain the idea of her. Without that spark, though, there's nothing more to wonder about.
Speaking of spark-- or, really, unattractive sweating: yesterday found me in the same room as the Obscure Object, and wonderfully, the air conditioning was nonexistent, and I could feel the sweat accumulating on my face. My FACE. What is this?! Just the sound of her voice makes me a little weak in the knees. That's fucking lame. This doesn't happen to me. Or, okay, it does: and always when I can't make a move to lessen the mystery.
I don't know, don't know, know.
She's totally hot, okay. And I am not immune to these things. AC has the most amazing smile, and she is a charmer. But I can't date charmers anymore. I usually discover that's all they've got to offer: charm. & usually a great smile that they then try to use to get them out of trouble. I'm not so much into saving graces anymore.
But today- there wasn't any spark. No butterflies. No unattractive sweating. Just, hey, how are you. I probably came off as aloof, but I am aloof sometimes, and like hell would I want AC to know, at this juncture, that I still entertain the idea of her. Without that spark, though, there's nothing more to wonder about.
Speaking of spark-- or, really, unattractive sweating: yesterday found me in the same room as the Obscure Object, and wonderfully, the air conditioning was nonexistent, and I could feel the sweat accumulating on my face. My FACE. What is this?! Just the sound of her voice makes me a little weak in the knees. That's fucking lame. This doesn't happen to me. Or, okay, it does: and always when I can't make a move to lessen the mystery.
I don't know, don't know, know.
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