I don't know what the fuck my problem is...
And how often do I say that?
I'm so tired. And I feel so heavy today. So heavy. It started last night, with the tiredness, with falling asleep with my head in Angie's lap in front of an utterly heart-breaking game. I was whiny then, not wanting to deal with the world. Not wanting anything. But it was a whiny evening overall. That's what happens when you're dating your match... when you're exactly the same... you spend evenings apologizing for apologizing and being sad and upset and digging yourself further into the spiral until you can't even remember what that first little whimper was even about. And then you get yourselves dressed and go get chinese and laugh about how ridiculous you've been.
Last night I fell asleep under her comforter while she cleaned the bathroom to appease her roommates. She fell asleep to my breathing, my eyes closed, pressed into the crook of her arm.
I dreamed that we were in Maine. We went to Brunswick. She paid for gas. Then we took shots of tequila. She told me this morning that there was a bottle of tequila on the kitchen table last night. Odd. I never even went into the kitchen. Nor have I ever had tequila.
I woke up reaching for her sleeping body. Reaching over, cupping my hands over her breasts, brushing my hands across her skin. But she was sleeping. Damn adult cleaning responsibilities wearing the shine out of my lover's eyes.
I fell back asleep until she whispered "it's almost 7." I woke up with this feeling. A different sort of heaviness. A heaviness that has worn my body and my eyes down to the ground, and has moved onto a new part of me to destroy. Convinced that she was upset with me, convinced that I couldn't make it through today, convinced that I had done something terribly wrong, just by waking up today.
She assured me everything was okay...
I took a shower... a shower that couldn't seem to find the right temperature....
And although it was already after 7:30 and I insisted there wasn't enough time, she pulled me into bed with her, and we made love beautifully... our bodies so perfectly pressed against each other. As I let go to be overtaken by the always-surprising rush of weak warmth coursing through every cell in my body, I clung to her, pressing myself closer, until I thought we would melt into one. I laid in her arms, spent, for a moment, my body pulsing... a moment ruined only by my compulsion to check the clock.
Already 8. We pried ourselves out from the softness of blankets, pillows, skin, breath....
We drove into the city together.
I am sad. I am resenting every detail about where I am at this moment. I am longing for her bed. I am angry at myself for not being excited about tonight's events. I am debating whether or not to drive to Maine tomorrow to see Linda get married, to listen to my parents talk excitedly about Hawaii (they come back today), to do my laundry, to....
*sigh*
09:20 - Friday, Oct. 17, 2003
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