It was the end of summer. Desire wafted through the air like the heat that wasn’t there. Rain defined all the days I encountered, and I found myself more and more withdrawn.
I was never comfortable with complete exposure; I find myself at odds with more than one person. But my entire life I’ve had the issue of intimacy at random intervals. I’d be damned if I allowed myself to be vulnerable for more than a few hours, but in those hours the magic that was woven in words seemed to negate any sense of time at all.
Beautiful. All the rain was beautiful to me. It was coming down to cleanse the world after all the sins myself and others had commited this horrid summer. Somehow it felt like the weather was my fault; I had cried more in this week than I had in the past year.
It was all about boys. My whole mind revolved around boys and luring men only to leave them stranded. I guess it was my way of revenge after I faced catastrophe in the past month.
He was so nice. He wasn’t good looking, particularly smart, wickedly funny, of with a definitive swagger. He wasn’t anything I ever looked for in a guy; he didn’t even have dark hair. And there I go, letting him ruin my life again while I sat complacent with it because I couldn’t think of anything better to do.
After the shit hit the fan and I gave him a final breakup over the phone as impersonal and casually as I could, I focused entirely on work. I ignored my friends except for a couple guys I felt comfortable talking to. One boy screwed me over and left promises empty, and all the others had left. I couldn’t be alone.
All food tasted bland and I essentially starved myself. It wasn’t motivated by vanity or neuroticism, it was entirely disinterest. All I wanted to do was listen to order and fufill them mindlessly. Washing dishes was my only form of satisfaction. It was finite and simple and allowed me to do something without fucking up for the first time in a while.
The breaking point was soon. I had already found myself completely unable to deal with all the drama surrounding my supposed friends and had hoped for a bit of sympathy when coming out of a brutal relationship. Instead I was greeted with whores and liars and I got sick quickly.
So what do I do? Cry and hide and wait for people to talk to me. It was sad, it was depressing, but it was at least nonviolent.
Everyone was gone. I had isolated them all in favor of a boyfriend I was never all too crazy about. When a simple message would pop up on the computer screen through which I lived my life, my heart would skip a beat hoping that human connection was inevitable.
Thankfully, it was only about 2 weeks.