it's probably a bad idea to write angry.
it's probably also not as bad as it seems, because i'm also pms'ing.
and there's something to be said for that moment when everything stops moving around you. and you realize you're standing still. and suddenly, very alone.
maybe i'm not good at being alone. maybe it's smart that i'm too afraid to go out by myself.
a girl got murdered for her bike in the place i want to go to, after all. only a few weeks ago, at that.
but i can't help feeling mostly sorry for myself.
i looked forward to tonight since last saturday. all week. i made it through long shifts and shit tips, just to get to tonight.
and i had two people lined up to go with me, to ensure that i didn't end up where i am now.
and neither are going. so i am home alone. how i used to be on fridays, before i stopped getting my hopes up when people made plans with me.
i'm all dressed up. full-on makeup, which is a rarity. i even did my eyeliner the way kit taught me to. she'd have been proud.
perfume, too.
i smell good.
and no one is here to smell me. or compliment me. and i'm not going anywhere other than my stoop.
this is for the best.
i already know.
stupid intern didn't bother to text me or be in touch in any fashion. and i'm too chickenshit to bug him yet again.
because it's too soon.
last week was so great. but it was just last week.
and it makes me miss nina something fierce.
i was sitting on my stoop writing in paper journal a minute ago.
and i wrote that this is why i should move home.
a perfect storm of sorts.
one part hormones. combined with burning my dinner in my piece of shit oven. in my apartment that i hate still, even though the sentiment wanes from time to time. at the end of the day, it still sucks, landlord creeps me the fuck out, and i can't bake here, which is killing my soul.
i hate this apartment.
i hate when my plans get canceled.
i hate when i'm not strong enough to do things on my own, because i spend time being pissed off at everyone else, instead of myself.
really, this should serve to prove a point to me. i'm not happy being alone yet. and maybe i won't ever be.
i do such a great job of staying busy all the time. and then when i am not busy, and alone, on the weekend, it's a recipe for disaster. all week long, if i am alone, i'm fine.
but saturday night? that is not fine.
part of me wants to go to see robbie. because i have a pretty good idea of where he is. and i have been missing him lately, and have had a hard time pinning him down.
even if i rode all over the city, picking up pastries and dropping shit off in the passenger seat of his van. it would be more fun than this.
it also makes me think that i need to make more friends. because i shouldn't have two girl friends and an intern to choose from, when i'm thinking about going out. but i don't know if i should even bother, because on days like this, i just want to pack my shit and go home.
i talked to kenna this week about moving home.
she said she felt every single thing that i feel. and rattled off a list of things she also felt, that i am also feeling. it's common, i guess.
to want simplicity, and comfort, and familiarity. and family.
and people who knew you before you were defined as a wife. who have known you all along. or who knew you before, and recognize you now. after the part in the middle where you lost yourself, when new people were just getting to know you.
chalk offered to fly up and take me to the movies yesterday.
it kinda freaked me out a bit. but if i'd said yes, i'd be watching inception in a theater, and then come home to make out and other things that sometimes follow dinner and a movie.
and right now, that sounds like it might have been the right answer.
but instead, what i ended up doing was watching one of my favorite movies and having a cry.
i tried to make other plans, and it just didn't happen.
so i watched 'dream for an insomniac'. AGAIN.
i made myself watch it, because in my little daydream yesterday, i was having a certain boy over, and thought it would be a cute movie to show someone who has a romantic notion of how it would be to work in a coffee shop.
plus, there's lots of awkward kissing, so it might take the edge off. you know.
but just because i'd thought that, in some rare situation where planets and stars align and he showed up at my apartment tonight, i'd be watching it with him, it seemed all the more fitting that i should be alone. completely and utterly lonely style alone. and watch it alone.
next up: heima.
i don't know. that one will be a tough one.
i have so many desires attached to that movie. and watching this movie tonight reminded me of why i love it so much.
think what i want, say what i want, do what i want about coffee... the thing remains. and though i'm not fixated and obsessing on it, it will always be there. any time i ever see him, i will feel something.
even if i don't want to. even if i tell myself for the next six months that i won't.
because i don't want to anymore. i want to be done with it. and despite that, i know it is going to take a while to get used to the idea that there's just nothing there for him.
i was just one girl of a hundred. so flooded with girls that he thought he kissed me, even though he didn't.
i mean, come ON. sure, there are boys that i can't remember if i kissed. but none of them made me feel the way he did at the time. and i guess that, if he felt that way toward me, he'd at least remember.
but instead, i'm forgettable. i was a blip. i didn't make a mark. no impression. i mean, he has memories. but they're generalities.
and i guess it hurts to think that all these years, i was just waiting for him and pining for him. and hoping that he was pining for me.
and by the time i have the balls to ask, he has settled into a little love nest with some chick twelve years younger than him. and i can't do anything about it. my hands were tied, and not in a good way.
no awkward kissing. i couldn't.
but it would've been worse if i had. at least this way, we're friends, like we've always been in his mind.
and it's going to take a while to get over the fact that i just wasn't what he is to me, to him. it wasn't there. it wasn't special.
i was a flavor of the month. in the girl of the month club.
and suddenly, all those words i wrote back then? they're pretty fitting. because all this time later? i still feel the same way.
i mean, the core of those emotions, the rawness of it, that's all faded away. but in the end, i was right then. because he never once thought that i was the one that got away.
thinking about the two of them is rough, too. i kinda can't help it. i mean, she is the reason why things went so differently. if he wasn't with her, i'd have stopped at nothing.
but because he was and is, i have to leave it alone. and in a way, part with those thoughts and feelings.
he's not the one that got away.
he's just the one that faded away.
and before, all i felt was anger.
i guess it takes one of my favorite movies to start the part where i just feel really really sad about it.
about him.
and i hope it is okay to start this process now.
this is what happens when i'm alone.
the laughter stops. everyone goes home. i have a beer.
and then i'm left with what i've been hiding from, running from, distracting myself from.
and in the end, it is coffee.
i'm left with coffee. or without coffee, rather.
know what i did today? i erased the texts we sent back and forth when i was home. because when i got them, there was so much promise.
know what i did yesterday? i erased the message he left for me when i missed his call. the one where he sounded excited and smiley in his voice. because, again, it was before. and i was reading it all wrong.
it's not that it wasn't there. it is just that it's always there. it wasn't there for me, specifically.
and now i know.
and now i smoke.
and now i sleep. sleep it off.
start over tomorrow.
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