And now we wait.
For boys to wake up, for cards to turn, for time to run out, for hair to dry, for itches to take to the scratch, for London to rise, for bravery to outweigh procrastination, for earworms to crawl toward their exits, for the revelation to be revealed.
Boys that aren’t boys. Boyz that have gone through the whole process and have properly turned 2 men. Ahem. Sorry. It’s late and I have a sugar-headache and there’s no shaking it as I took some aspirin and quickly had a nosebleed so I am just going to drink some water and stop my excessive thinking. Boys. Men. Ones who have expressly stated that they need to be bonked on the head to realize a girl might like them. A lady. A woman. Funny how funny that feels, like five glass marbles I’m trying to mumble through. A woman and a man called so by virtue of nothing, really. I’ve always prefered being a girl. Ah. So, it is entirely up to me if I feel anything whatsoever to Charlotte Lucas it. So not my strong suit.
And in the wings, a kind person I feel, completely arbitrarily less for. Hovering. Curious. Asking how I am doing and I care, but on several orders of magnitude less that I do for this man I have arbitrarily decided is the pick of the litter. Neither of whom are in anyway positioned to knock on my door and invite me to dinner. All of this is talky-talk trouble. But that’s where I do my worst and best work. Where I conjure marvels, where I skin my palms and knees. He just wants me to say hi. I feel like saying hi is a minor betrayal. It ain’t, but I got my plans, and this is a complication in that it requires me to grow some parts and say, I am delighted for your friendship, but we’re both here for the purpose of finding someone for whatever lies beyond friendship and I don’t want to waste your time when I am pining…waiting…scrying out a good moment for someone else that will probably come to naught and yet, even then, I don’t think we’re compatible anyway so don’t be mad at me for letting you bark up this tree because it feels nice to be appreciated. Just because friendship itself feels warm and nice after so many long years out in the open air.
I know how this shit goes. I had to throw one tormented artist to the proverbial curb to take up with a devil-may-care, honey-addled jewel thief. It’s the chase! We wish to be better than that, but ah, life is meant to be fun at some point so it might as well be now. At least it’s not a Rubbery Man.
We had all the cupcakes and frappuccinos and tacos and orzos and oh nos that exist in the world if you end up looking for some tomorrow. I also have a Chipotle gift card I attempted to give away five months ago. Once that is spent, I believe I will also be well and truly done.