i accidentally bought a $40 bottle of pinot noir. i thought i was buying a sixteen dollar bottle. but what can you do when you're half way out the door staring down at the receipt?
so we drank it. there's still some left, waiting on the counter, waiting to be drunk.
and what of me? there's still some left, waiting on the counter, waiting to be drunk. sitting on trains, counting down days, watching the cars and people and buildings go by. drinking lattes and waiting for bombs to drop.
i need to start packing. i need to make it in to work on time. just once, at least. i need to stop having so much fun, because it only makes me miss it all already. i need to stop worrying about what hasn't happened yet, what i can't control, because it only makes me a crazy person. which is not to say i have anything to worry about at all. i can't wait to get there. i can't wait for my friends to visit and stay in the jupiter and fall in love the way i have. or at least kiss me hello.
i've spent a lot of time trying to find my way out of the dark. trying to feel my way around. trying to escape. and i know what you're thinking, and i know you're trying not to think about how we all have something we're all always trying to escape. it's okay. i've reconciled with that. anyhow, i think i've found my way into the light. i think i'm halfway through the door. and it makes me sad. it makes me feel very alone in a way i'm not certain i can articulate.
being alone, though, is not so bad. i can wait, anticipate, for the day i feel something for someone again. i can fantasize about what it will be like to feel anything at all for someone again. hellos and the tuggings of pants and the pulling of shirts and the grabbing of arms as i lay my face into it. with laughter. with compassion. with love and communication.
and in the meantime i'll drink my wine with my friends. i'll make it last. i'll get drunk and dumb and throw my weight around. and revel in the freedom to just be, with no real debt to anyone. i can do whatever i want. i can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant.
sixteen, forty, i really can't taste the difference. i once had a $250 bottle - i thought it tasted like shit. give me a miller high life and a picnic table anyday. we'll get high and drunk and watch the stars. and then you'll lean in and kiss me for the first time. and we'll both be surprised. and then i'll say, "hello."
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