Friday, April 3, 2009


I was free for months, but I still always kept you as on option. Because I had a choice, there have been three other males I've given physical affection for after and between you. Filling a void that entered me when I was suddenly sleeping alone every night, these petty crushes did just that, and that's where I feel like a lovefool. It took me knowing I was tangibly losing you to really realize why I never wanted to in the first place.

I acknowledged my overwhelming care for you when you came back to dance to non-Star Wars music at the price of a drink on me. You know I was offering more, but it was you who grabbed my face out of nowhere and kissed me. Maybe it was the fact that the one I started spending time with in your absence was behind the bar guarding my wallet. But jealousy doesn't result in what was one of the sexiest, intense and passionate kisses I've ever had the pleasure of receiving. Walking out under your jacket, I knew it was mutual.

I was slapped with the possibility of you not around when you told me you would no longer be a few blocks down working at the place I, at two points in my life, have collected paychecks from. I was floored when you told me you were actually leaving.

It was moody winter, and now I'm going to have to cruise cruise right through April, May, June, July and beyond without you and without her, a loss that still brings me sadness and comfort knowing you were lying next to me on the floor when I found out there was bad news. I longed for you when I found out the brunt of the bad news, and I longed for you that entire week I stayed east of town with my family.

But things are starting to resemble a sense of normalcy, not only in the neighborhood, but also in my life. This place feels like home 75 percent of the time -- less than it did when I left, but a huge jump from how it did when I came back.

This small city has started to feel like a small town again, where familiar faces are once again familiar and the routine Sunday stop at the supermarket is lengthened because of idle chit chat. The husband of my former baby sitter looking at my tits and telling me that purple is definitely my color as he touches my cardigan. My neighbor, whose band mate cousin I fool around with, tells me they're back in town and hanging out at his place tonight, so I should consider stopping over. I think about it because you're not around, but I decide against it because there was a possibility you would be. He's second best anyway.

Because it was a particular Sunday that I showered shaved and applied your favorite lotion expecting you to come back to the place that's become whole because of you, but instead it turned into me reaching toward Interstate 81 south and doing three days worth of crossword puzzles by myself while listening to Mirah. You wouldn't be coming back until Monday, a luxury your unemployed self can finally afford.

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