last night:
suffered a brief but painful bout of loneliness, spinning itself into melancholy and poetry. quarantined myself in the apartment for two days to keep this damned flu from spreading any farther.... but sometimes whatcha really need most is a hug and someone else to go get the cough syrup.
y'know?
* * * * *
called up davis and talked life for a while. i wish my life wasn't quite so spread out all over the place. he is telling me to hop on the next flight to seattle for a weekend of tea and kitties and crossword puzzles. i tell him that people are expecting me, in ft lauderdale and dallas and laconia and glens falls and that the far better option would be for him to come plant his tree-huggin-west-coast-lovin ass down firmly on my boston-based couch and stay a while. wouldn't everything in life be more tolerable with a best friend on one's couch?
maybe after the summer, he says.
fair enough, i say.
knowing full well that my transient legs could take me far from here before he ever arrives. tripping on cough syrup inevitably leads to examining one's course in life. salem finds me still far from home and maybe veering ever farther off course. the conversation slides into interest rates and credit scores and davis stops
what the fuck are we doing? jen, we're talking about fucking interest rates. fuck.
we're grownups.
fuck you, i say, get the hell back here on this damned coast peter fucking pan and let's find neverland.
i miss my lost boys.
suffered a brief but painful bout of loneliness, spinning itself into melancholy and poetry. quarantined myself in the apartment for two days to keep this damned flu from spreading any farther.... but sometimes whatcha really need most is a hug and someone else to go get the cough syrup.
y'know?
* * * * *
called up davis and talked life for a while. i wish my life wasn't quite so spread out all over the place. he is telling me to hop on the next flight to seattle for a weekend of tea and kitties and crossword puzzles. i tell him that people are expecting me, in ft lauderdale and dallas and laconia and glens falls and that the far better option would be for him to come plant his tree-huggin-west-coast-lovin ass down firmly on my boston-based couch and stay a while. wouldn't everything in life be more tolerable with a best friend on one's couch?
maybe after the summer, he says.
fair enough, i say.
knowing full well that my transient legs could take me far from here before he ever arrives. tripping on cough syrup inevitably leads to examining one's course in life. salem finds me still far from home and maybe veering ever farther off course. the conversation slides into interest rates and credit scores and davis stops
what the fuck are we doing? jen, we're talking about fucking interest rates. fuck.
we're grownups.
fuck you, i say, get the hell back here on this damned coast peter fucking pan and let's find neverland.
i miss my lost boys.