In two weeks, I have an exam that will either allow me to proceed to the next step in my career or not. But I have not had a moment to study since Tuesday. I have dealt with emergency actions due to Tuesday’s earthquake. Wednesday’s downpour not only soaked through everything I was wearing but also library books and notes. We are having to show the apartment to find a new roommate. And now this hurricane preparation is taking up ALL of my time, and I sprained my wrist so it hurts to type and take notes and lift anything. So I just want you all to get off my back and leave me the hell alone.
So, it turns out that a 24-hour visit wasn’t enough to discover the romantic spark he wanted. Well, if that’s the only opportunity I get, I guess I’m lucky to be rid of that situation. How very reality TV.
He was able to find a spark locally, and who can compete with here-and-now face time?
So I’m back to square one. (How many times have I said that?)
I have a married friend that flirts with me way more than is appropriate. That is not the attention I want.
I have developed a bond with an old friend over nostalgic affection and present-day loneliness, so I have a shoulder for comfort and arms for hugging whenever we cross paths. It helps… mutually.
But as I’ve said recently, as neurotic as it sounds, each failed attempt at a relationship feels like a lost opportunity to start a family. Yes, that is extreme, and no, I don’t think that every date has lasting potential. But failures feel more acute as time marches on.
I heard back after my annual physical.
Turns out that I’m not undatable. I just have a vitamin D deficiency.
Phew. What a relief.
“If I had but an hour of love, if that be all that’s given me. An hour of love upon this earth, I would give my love to thee.”
- Ray Singh (Reece Ritchie), The Lovely Bones
The shift from “I am kinda crazy about you” to “let’s be friends” happened rather suddenly and unexpectedly.
I had spent months slowly reaching the point where I was resigned to the idea that this wouldn’t go anywhere romantically. And I was fine with it. But then grand romantic gestures on his part caused me to rethink things. And so this downshift has left me a little upset and jerked around a bit. I’m glad I didn’t allow things to move quickly and have been generally guarded because this could have hurt a good deal more.
I felt the change all weekend and couldn’t figure out what it was, but my cheering squad thought I was reading too much into it. I wasn’t. Neener?
The things weighing on my mind of late are too personal to share here.
I have instead started writing letters to people who will never receive them.
Keeping checking back for Tune of the Day, fun links, or more superficial stories.
On that note, I bought Cataclysm and have logged a few hours in the last two weeks. I have no chops, I feel like a fool, but my goblin is adorable, and I want to build more contraptions.
I bury my face in his downy neck,
imagining the scent of warm slumber.
I drape my arm across him,
imagining the soft waves of breath washing over my hand.
I press my breast to his quilted back,
imagining the slow rhythm of his sleep-laden heart.
I have been in a haze of confusion, and perhaps denial or resignation, since yesterday, and I let something slip, many things maybe.
I tossed it in a trunk, and realized that it was a harsh gesture. I tried to take it back.
I put it in a bag, but it spilled, and, in my distracted state, forgot to pick it up.
Is this a metaphor or just literal? What have I done?
In the three minutes after writing the above, I have called the lost and found and know now to contact UPS for a pickup. Perhaps it will come back to me after all…
What have I done?
…so perhaps I shouldn’t.
The events of my holiday have helped shake one preoccupation only to introduce another. It changed the nature of one, and maintained the holding pattern of another.
I’ve written two letters to relieve my brain; one was sent and the other will not be.
But it’s time to sleep because I leave very early tomorrow.
