May 5, 2002
Sunday

Last night, I felt so lonely that I actually got scared. Panic-scared -- the same type of scared just before going into surgery, or getting lost on a backpacking trip.

My frantic late-night post to Cabell's forum at poisonsoda:

"So I just want to say that I was supposed to meet someone, Austin, at the coffee shop tonight, and that'd I'd been looking forward to it all weekend, and it fell through. I got there; he wasn't there.

As it turns out, I missed him by five minutes. And it's not like we had set a specific time set, other than to meet tonight, but every time we've talked there, we've closed the place. Always. And I mean, I was there two hours before they close. Sheesh! And his finals are over. <exasperation>

This is my life. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it!

Why can't I get this right? Why won't something good happen for me? Why can't I meet someone?! Why won't it work!? Just once! That's all I need. Just once!

I give up God. Just…. just fucking give me something.

Please."

 

It was a small thing. And likely, it meant nothing at all. The arrangement was casual; there were no commitments. But it's been a self reflecting weekend of suck and this just topped it all off.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I wouldn't even care about this bullshit. But since everyone feels the need to couple into jealous pairs, I don't have anything. And, as much as I wish it weren't true, people need love. They need affection and they need to belong.

In the past, it hasn't been a problem. I've never been the type to have a lot of friends -- usually just one, occasionally two, close friends. But not anymore. Like when I was spending a lot of type with Jess at the Ren Faire, her boyfriend was spazzing because I was taking her time and because he thought we were going to go off and do the lesbo-thing. When I spent a lot f time with Colin, one night his wife went (literally) berserk. It's the same thing with gay couples and all happens over and over again.

Well not anymore, of course. Nowadays I'm just looking for my own special person and thinking "oh shit" a lot. And then last night something happened that never happened before. Everything felt so bad, that I really wanted to drink. If I'd any wine in the apartment, I would have. It just seemed like the only way to stop the hurt. The only thing to hold onto.

Reading biographies, and getting to know Tim after he'd just gotten divorced and even just talking with people in general, I've heard about drinking to kill the pain. Drew Carry carried joked once, "Ever sip is like a little hug." But I've never really understood. It makes me dizzy and dumb; I don't like the feeling and it has never actually numbed pain for me -- ever.

Last night though, I wanted something, and it's the only thing that came to mind. But instead all I could do is lay in bed trying to sleep. My neighbors dogs were barking all night, so I got angry at them in waves. And for some reason, I could feel the smallest aches in my body -- especially a couple leftover chronic surgery pains. I laid in bed, stared at the ceiling, and I couldn't even cry.

In brighter news -- woke up at 6am this morning (Monday). Woo Hoo! It was certainly in part to my neighbors barking dogs -- Incessant and Yowler. Yet, this could be the beginning of beautiful new morning-person habits!