I don’t even remember what I wrote last time, but it was probably a little sad.
Fall is here and I don’t know if it’s my period, the number of workouts I’ve skipped, or my body catching up to me that has me turning in like a lil’ senior citizen.
I can’t say I mind the restfulness I’ve felt in the mornings, coffee seeming like more of a lesbian accessory than something I need to wake up. Either way, I still chug the stuff.
If anyone tells you that Folgers coffee is trash then they are lying.
— —
Reader,
I have my dream job. If you’re a close friend, then you already know where I am. If you’re not, just know that it was on my brain five if not more years ago. I’d take small solo trips here and there to major cities, just a way to get lost on my own.
When I’m stomping around a different city, my brain feels so quiet. I’m just letting all the new sensations, smells, and sounds waft over me in a blanket. There’s so much to experience and I get to let it all in at my discretion, with no worries about anyone else’s needs or opinions on where to eat breakfast.
On one such trip, I booked a stay in an adorable youth hostel that I live somewhat close to now. I saw art. I played video games. I didn’t say many words but it felt right in those instances. I could be alone without feeling lonely.
I miss trips like those.
Several years later, I’d be back in the same city, somewhat newly out and living alone.
I have everything I’ve wanted and it feels really odd. Like, there’s this almost boredom. I think that’s a trauma response, right? When things feel good and settled, my brain wonders where the chaos is. Am I really alive if I am not suffering? If I am not scraping pieces of myself off of the floor? I live for dramatics but I can’t ignore how peaceful I feel.
— — —
I’m thinking a lot about what I require. I’m thinking about my art and how do I do more of it. I’m thinking about boundaries at work and free time. I love my alone time, but when I’m over it, it’s like this sudden ache.
It’s been chilly lately and I feel delirious with the desire to be held. It’s going to be my first real winter alone without a constant person in my life and it’s daunting. Who am I when I am alone and wanting affection? What does asking a friend to come over and sit on my couch with me look like? I wish that wasn’t hard.
I want to try to chart when my alone time becomes lonliness. Is it on Thrusdays? Is it Friday evening? Even though having plans every day of the weekend makes me feel exhausted, I wonder how I can work more social time into my calendar without feeling drained.
— — —
I’m seeing someone new for the first time in a while.
I was very hesitant at first, but L is wonderful.
They’re like a comet had a baby with an expensive blanket.
I still have so many walls around myself. I realized that I don’t feel loveable. At least not in the way that I want. I want to inspire passion and desire and deep want. I want these things but it’s hard to let anyone in past the surface level
I’ve had some very short encounters, but my immediate want afterward was for them to leave.
I don’t want to hold someone I don’t know.
Get railed by them, yes.
I am optimistic, I am cautious, and I feel wam inside.
The thing about dating is I finally feel like it’s optional. I don’t HAVE to have a primary, serious partner in order to feel complete, because I feel so complete already. Anything else is just a cherry on top.
Cherries can’t hold you in bed, though. Or chop vegtables in your kitchen or toss arms around you as you’re walking to brunch.
In case it wasn’t obvious,
I’m actually a huge baby.
