He told me last Tuesday that he was going away on what is now tonight.
I imagine he’s flying over Texas now, anxiety gnawing at his insides. His sexy, blue-eyed friend is sitting next to him, reassuring him in that “we-are-buddies-but-not-too-intimate” way that straight men talk to each other. I bet that he ordered the window seat and he’s staring out at the clouds right now, earbud in one ear and thoughts elsewhere.
Or maybe he’s feeling ecstatic, and feels like I do—that being at home a bit too long is, well, frankly, suffocating, and sometimes the wild blue yonder offers some fresh air.
Either way, I’ve spent all of my evening trying to imagine his tomorrow—of travel hangover, of homesickness, of culture shock, but mostly (and this is what I love about him most) his wide, hazel eyes taking in the alien scene with wonder and exhilaration. I wish it were me in his place, or that I were there with him.
Instead, I am stuck here in Detroit, sitting in my underwear at my parents’ dining room table listening to The Cure.
Maybe I’ll go away too. I’ve talked of Portland, but Brianna gave me a brilliant idea: going somewhere where you can see not just the stars, but as she put it, “the heavens.”
"It’ll relax you, inspire you, open up your mind, take your mind off of his absence."
After all of the longing and suffering I’ve had all day about him, maybe some cosmic daydreaming is not a bad idea.
I had a temporary position at a property management company, but the head secretary decided I made her uncomfortable the first day. She stopped talking to me by Wednesday and brusquely dismissed me on Thursday (without taking her mail key back, the fool). I don’t often take an instant dislike to people but she was awful; plastic, demanding, vapid and ruthless. The line of work I’m in isn’t exactly inspiring, but with her there, it was even more demoralizing than usual.
I’m expecting about 1000 back from the government for my tax return. If I manage to remain employed for the next two or three weeks or so, I should have about two grand, which should be enough to buy a decent enough car and perhaps a crappy apartment too.
The Italian and I have talked more in the last two weeks or so than we have in the last 3 months, which I find to be awesome. He’s supposed to be leaving for Mexico next month until April with Blue Eyes. How can I already miss someone and they haven’t even left yet?
I turn 20 years old tomorrow. Where has the time gone?!