Homeostasis
November 27, 2016
The last time I checked Nell’s Instagram was about… 2 seconds ago. She has some pictures of her and her husband up. Domestic bliss must feel amazing. She’s in this gorgeous beige/off-white light-golden dress surrounded by European architecture and landscaping, looking deep into her lover’s eyes in every photo. I used to wish that was me. And even now, I wonder if it could be me right now. Given the chance, I would take it and be happy for the rest of my life. But it’s not me.
They got married at the beginning of this year, a few months after Elizabeth and I broke up. That was tough, right as I was getting settled into a new apartment with two roommates. Bob and Paul were sane, way nicer than the roommates I had years ago in Austin. Since then they’ve moved out and now I’m in the master bedroom. I have two new roommates James and Lebron. They’re really cool.
I have everything I ever wanted in my apartment room: a bed, a fridge, a computer, my music, and even a private bathroom. Yet there’s one thing that is missing… the only thing that really matters. In the past, the next word I would have written was Nell. Nell, oh Nell, my darling. How everything wrong with the world would become entirely irrelevant if you were here with me. Our connection would be the strongest glue that would hold together our spirits in union. Our joy and happiness would flow out and touch everything around us, giving life and love wherever we went, creating beauty and order to even the most uninspired and deathly scenes. I would have said some sentimental shit like that.
I have to move on. I still believe in love and want someone in my life. The difference now is I know that person doesn’t have to be Nell. I can realize and accept that now.
Last Thanksgiving, I spent the day with Jade. This year, my roommate Lebron has invited me to his parents’ house for Thanksgiving dinner. It’s nice that I’m not completely alone, I suppose.
I have a job I like. I’ve stuck with it for over a year (a personal record!), and I am making enough to rent a room and have food to eat. I even have a cozy room and cool roommates. It’s my dream come true to be a functioning member of society. After the sorority, the bartending, the cleaning bathrooms… I’m finally at a desk in an office with a kitchen. This is fucking luxury, man.
I’ve been living in my apartment for over a year too. Signature on lease and everything. It’s so official and grown-up! I used my new apartment’s indoor basketball court to record a song about Ava Gardner called Lush Life. It’s my favorite song that I’ve written so far.
I went on a coffee date with my co-worker Jade. I kissed her at the end of it. Then later I kissed her again after she invited me to spend the holiday at her place. Somehow it just… didn’t feel right. We got along really well, and I feel like we could have been great friends. She had diabetes… the kind where she had to watch her insulin levels and use a pump. That never bothered me. I actually kind of liked it because for some reason people who have a “thing” like that have been forced to shed a layer of worldly BS, and they become more real and grounded than those who haven’t had to suffer at all. It reminded me of my SM and just how much of a crutch it is. Anyway, I was so excited to be with someone other than Elizabeth, that I chose to ignore the fact that I had about zero chemistry with Jade. She moved to a different floor at work, and I just forgot about her.
When I started the job, I sat across from a woman named Anita. She’s in her mid-thirties and the literal definition of a MILF… tall and blonde with a busty body that’ll drive your nuts fucking crazy. We talked occasionally, and it was a lot of fun being her desk buddy. She’d throw candy at me over the desk fence when it got too quiet. And when people around us said stupid things, we’d look at each other, smile, and have our own little eye contact language. I got her a cake on her birthday when it was forgotten. She gave me a little speaker for my phone that someone got her as a Christmas present but she didn’t want. And I saved up tea packets she gave me that I was too busy to try at the time. We’d just make quips and make each other laugh when work was too bleh.
It’s crazy how the office-sexual-tension cliche actually exists. I wanted nothing more than to ravish her every single day and make her scream in ecstasy. But even if I had the technical skills to engineer a situation like that, it probably wouldn’t have been a good idea. The tension would just turn into uncomfortable awkwardness eventually. I want to feel comfortable at work. Although, releasing that tension would have been so fucking satisfying…
But it’s still not love. Love… it’s something I want very much, but I’m scared. I’ve been hurt. I deserve to be wanted. I think that’s what Elizabeth was trying to say to me. Although she didn’t want me, she did wish for me to meet someone who wants me as much as I want them.
I bought Elizabeth a book for Christmas last year. I went to her house, and almost got murdered by her dad. So I returned the book. He didn’t hate the book that much. He never saw it. He just hated me. I’ve sent her some messages online, none of which she’s responded to. I should have given up a long time ago… she obviously has. I really want us to be friends again.
If I can fall for another girl, maybe I can use that to leverage myself emotionally to a place where she will be far behind me. The only danger here is I’ll get hurt again, but part of growing up I think is realizing the potential to suffer beyond belief (non-abusive), but choosing to love anyway.