i’m most affected by the memory of my being with him, and his being with me, when I am trying to feel close to someone else. I met an extremely nice boy who is smart and interesting and a horrible kisser, and still, I said I needed to try to know him. I I want to be happy with someone. He turned out to be not so sweet, or innocent acting, as he had in the week during which we’d planned a date out, and then a movie at my house; I didn’t in particular want to kiss him when he kissed me, and certainly not after, so unappetizing it was.
But I still thought I’d try him out (since I am, obviously, just test-driving cars here, finding a good match for my needs); and so I tried to see him yesterday. He was at a club, and he didn’t want to leave, and I didn’t want to go, and he informed me I was missing a “hilarious” time there, and I didn’t respond, and I got off the bus – - after staring at the floor the entire ride; staring and thinking about having been held by another person; and quite possibly terrifying the girl who sat staring at me with a quizzical look on her face – - and cried, holding my gloved hands over my eyes on the sidewalk, and entered my house and lay down on the stairs and cried more, and more.
And then I told myself I was being silly, and I got up. I don’t feel sad now, at least no sadder than usual; maybe a bit bored with this Sunday, but not ready to weep.
argh.
