Welcome To My Bed

Some place on the edge of town.

better times

As people fall into the background, he is coming out of the shadows, holding me and pulling me out of the gutter, even when he's three thousand miles away. My exhaustion at the prospect of even leaving the house is overwhelming. I am consuming a steady diet of Netflix and cigarettes. I have lost my appetite for anything, most of all social contact with pretty much anyone but James.

Last night, while on the phone for a good three hours (we discussed Funny Games, Christian Bale's mysterious London legal situation, our lack of motivation to get laid, etc.), we ended up talking about the status of our relationship. I guess I was surprised to even start thinking about it in such terms, because in my mind, the only thing that has changed is our physical proximity to one another. He made the point that we won't be back together until we see each other again and decide that it feels right. This small turn has thrown me off balance in a way that I can't decide if I like or not. I really need to talk this out with somebody, but there's really no one available as a result of this bout of seclusion.

The people that I love keep throwing me for loops, and I am tired of hoop-jumping just to please their circus sensibilities. There are so many other things I could do with my time. I just have to figure them out first.

At this time, two weeks from now, I will be eating In & Out Burgers, getting more sun than I ever thought possible, falling in love all over again, and hopefully forgetting about all the things that have grated on me so far this summer. There are so many people I'd like to give a good talking to right now.