The Locket

Jude left today for L.A., off to his big important artist conference and out of contact I imagine for a while. I'm real happy and excited for him, and I think he's gonna come back real happy and excited for himself. I do wish I could be here to see that part. I know what it's like to come back psyched for what you're gonna do with all the big new ideas you just got for yourself. I want to get excited too and see him smile and be in the picture of those moments. But I'll be away on my own trip getting happy and excited for me, and I wonder to myself if he wishes he could be there for that too? It isn't as wonderful a feeling if no one is there to say they're proud of you and they knew you could do it and I don't live at home anymore. And speaking of home, this place I live in right now, it is not a home. It might be when all my girls are around a little more if at all, and I can build up the feeling next semester somewhere between two jobs and a boy. Or maybe I'm looking for a real home. I'm a bird that wants to build a nest. Not for eggs though, fuck that.

Anyway. Now for more obligatory sap. I miss him.

There are at least as many ways to say you love someone as there are synonyms in every language in the world, including Bushman clicks, body language and sign. That is to say, there must be infinite possibilities waiting out there to be discovered so the same words never get old. You say it in this shy, gentle way that I can barely hear, never quite clearly but softly touching on just enough of the right syllables for me to make out the gist of it if I listen real hard and don't make a sound. There's a Cure song that's always playing in the background of my mind when you do it. 

And now you're really far away, and I can't touch you. I'm wearing the locket I asked you to put your picture in. I've never had a locket with a picture in it before. I never thought to ask. I never wanted one, really. But now I have one. I've been separated from boys before and I'm fine and it's all fine, I've got a little tummy ache is all. I just made a sad face to no one in particular. But I want you to have fun and not worry. Don't forget me, and come back in one piece. I love you.

Bad Days

I've been really totally horrible about keeping up with this thing, and I've been through so much since the last time I posted that I hardly know where to begin. But if I put it off forever then I'll never write again, and there is a place to start. 

Do you ever have a day that is just so unspeakably awful that it starts to become ridiculous and wraps all the way around the spectrum to just funny again? Where each new trouble or challenge becomes another punchline in the long comedy of life, and all you can do when it gets worse is laugh? You might call that insanity. Maybe it is. Or maybe it keeps us sane. Jude says he always tries to get to the part where it's funny; I dunno if I can always do that, but I think it'd be a good idea to try.

So I've had a day or two like that lately. Not sure why. Maybe I've been too settled and it was just time to shake it all up. I'll share one such day just for good measure though, because, at least I thought, it was pretty funny. 

I woke up in the morning with a terrible hangover from karaoke the night before and my car was gone, towed to the PPA lot in south Philly. Jude was too wrecked to get up until like 2:00 that day, but I had work, so I took a cab down there and milled around for an hour while the fucking Parking Wars camera crew shoved equipment in people's faces and harassed people and wasted my time and made me late. They told me they only come down here on really hot days because that's when people start to get nasty. And the yelling Zairis and south Philly garbage sure proved them right. 

But late as I was, I didn't stick around to get famous, I thought I'd drive up and park by work to save time; I drove around for another half hour because they built some gross huge housing complex in the time since I lived in this town last and all the parking was gone. I did manage to find Ashe's cafe though, so that's cool. But anyway, finally parked, I walked up to work in the stifling humidity, where I ran into Jay who told me everything in the store was broke and the day had been awful.

I walk in, and Max asks me how I feel about not taking breaks. What? Apparently there was some scheduling problem and we were the only two people for like five hours into close. So I say, because I'm a champ, yeah, let's do it. I'm exhausted and hung over, mind you. This lady came in and said she had something to cheer me up, that one of those duck buses flipped and people were missing, and then she cackled like an evil person. And I admit, I hate those fuckers and I think that's funny, but seriously, she was a crackhead. But we got ourselves a pizza and opened some chips and had our selves a time. We did what we wanted and judged the customers and knocked out the close. Jarrett came in, whom I hadn't seen in ages, not since the very awkward last time. He's a dear, but it was weird. And all these awful weirdos came in. And ten girls wanting frappuccinos right before close. I could have strangled them all. Instead I busted up my arm running into shit because I'm such a klutz. We listened to black metal when the doors locked, and got out late. Then I shambled back to Jude and passed out. 

I don't even remember what day this was. Like a week ago? We had a couple of spats in the last few days too, real dumb stuff. They're sorted out now. I feel like I've been in this boat before, pushing back because that's what I do when I'm giving in to someone. I push back, see how much give I can get, see if I can be me in the context of us. He's pushing back, too. He won't let me just do whatever goes into my head. I don't know that anyone's ever invested enough in me to get this far. He said he wanted me to be the one that's different. I want to be.

I'm leaving for California in a week. He's leaving in less than two days. I'm scared, both for the trip, and for being away for a month. Which is dumb, because I used to date long distance and I went to Japan when I was with Jon, and it never bothered me this much. My heart is all twisted up at the thought of it, and it's really hitting me now. That's how I know he's gotten to me. I can say the word "us". I can't stop thinking about it. My hands are shaky. I used to be afraid of opening up. But that's gone.