been lonely too long...

August 31st/Sept 1st 2007

I saw my very first boyfriend tonight. I went to the Hollywood Forever Cemetery with a few friends to see "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?" I heard his distinctly gay South African accent two rows away from me in the line to get into the cemetery. I turned around to find that it was, in fact, the red-haired, skinny, flamboyant, leprechaun-esque young man I had known for 2 1/2 weeks about 6 years ago. I had only since seen him on the internet after our dramatic break up in the parking lot of a coffee shop in Redondo Beach. The pictures of him on the net were sweaty dance club shots that made him look bald and chubby.

But I can't say anything terrible about the way he looked in person. Bubbly. Bright orange. Happy. Seeing him made me feel terribly lonely...like I hadn't grown up at all.
I was never heartbroken when our affair ended, but for some reason his presence made me feel like the boring, mainstream little boy he once told me I was.

I may just be bitter because I didn't get to make out with someone tonight. The setting was a ridiculous kind of romantic and it was all wasted. I felt tired after three glasses of wine.

Side note: I wish I was more productive with my time....like this guy...

A Lover Who Will Drive Me Crazy.

I'm trying to imagine how you could be more perfect.
I know one thing.

I love that every want is expressed as a need, and the way you end even the most normal and mundane sentences with exclamation points.

I'm usually terrified of passion. And in a situation where fears perhaps should hold me back, I'm uncharacteristically relaxed.

February Morning Dream

I’m staring at my foot in confusion. There is a light brown plantlike growth emerging from a bright red sore on the bottom of it. Every time I touch it in order to remove it from the sore, I become incredibly dizzy and almost lose consciousness…

Suddenly I’m in a red leather booth at an old fashioned diner, working on my laptop. My boss, who's sitting next to me, puts her arm around me and begins kissing my neck. I look away from her in order to think, “Should I let this happen?”. I begin kissing her arm and working my back to her neck. Now she’s straddling me. I’m thinking to myself.

How could I let this happen?
What made her think I would enjoy her advances?
And most importantly, how would it affect my job status when I break her heart by falling in love with a man?

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I used to think I was bisexual. I also used to perform amateur operations on my ingrown toenails, using paper scissors and razorblades. During one routine surgery I dug too deep into the cuticle of my big toe and came very close to passing out.