raybear: (red)
So, six days ago, [livejournal.com profile] dommeyourass packed up the car and drove away to Arizona. Not for forever, just for a two-week road trip/vacation. I had a moment that morning when I realized, whoa, two whole weeks. I'm not sure its ever been that long -- I think our max was 12 days, and that was one of my trips to L.A. for school, several years ago. I wasn't feeling particularly panicky about being alone, but I was excited to have lots of free time to schedule with people and thought as a side benefit it couldn't hurt to plan ahead and not be left to my own devices the whole time. On Thursday I had dinner and a date with [livejournal.com profile] cheerfulchaotic, on Friday I had dinner with [livejournal.com profile] broqued and [livejournal.com profile] mintwaster, on Saturday morning I went to the gym with MW, then that afternoon I ran errands with [livejournal.com profile] keetbabe before going to [livejournal.com profile] vfc's house where I hung out all night. On Sunday I was a little resistant to leave the house, but made it anyway to pick up [livejournal.com profile] keetbabe and [livejournal.com profile] mrmturtle on the side of the road and we went to a graduation party with lots of people how don't have livejournals. Oh wait, it was [livejournal.com profile] sugarsmile's graduation, but I don't think she's really on here anymore. Anyway, by yesterday morning, I was sort of excited and relieved to have a whole empty week stretched out in front of me, to do whatever I want, mostly planning to read and watch movies, in between all my usual requirements (for the record, I have written, meditated, and gone to the gym everyday for the past two weeks (with the exception sundays as my off-day from exercise)).

But this afternoon, on the way to work, I started to feel it. The lack of interfacing with people in the world who are not strangers or co-workers I am mostly co-existing with, not genuine relationships. The copious spinning my brain does when left alone for many many many hours in a row. I was a bit scared about what would happen after work when I got back to the dark house alone. My dog doesn't exactly have the fortitude to calm me down, she is a worryer. There are people I could call and talk on the phone, but in some ways that felt like it would exacerbate the problem -- it would just highlight that I am alone in the house, plus I would feel self-conscious about being vulnerable to someone, i.e. "talking crazy". I'm standing inside the train station, thinking about this while tapping my foot and waiting for the train's headlight to appear at the end of the tunnel and then this came on my ipod.

having a coke with you )

And it was better. This is why its good to have dead gay boyfriends who make some sort of art that can console and inspire you in moments of being alone.

May 2010

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