v u l v a l i c i o u s
hard love and throat closes
standing in the kitchen crying, grateful that my housemate is gone. we're not in a place where i could do that in front of her, and it needed to happen.
on my way home i stopped and bought a small bottle of bourbon and an rc cola. i don't always drink when i'm sad, but there are days and moments and times when that's all there is to do. i suppose it's in my blood. i am considering the possibility of swigging from the bottle, but it seems uncivilized. i have to wake up in four and a half hours anyway.
it's been a year. almost? definitely? a few days away. i keep making half-hearted efforts at going on ok cupid. tonight i looked at a profile that seemed sweet and fun, the person attractive and with a sense of humor. all i could say was: "i'm not cute enough," as i closed the page. because if it's not them, it's me. the thought of dating nauseates me, really, so it's probably for the best.
what's worse is this: thinking things were one way when they're another. having to read and re-read "i fell in love with someone" and know that you're as many steps behind as you thought you were. more, even. too many.
feeling tricked and stupid and wrong. crying about it. not wanting to leave the bed, but doing it anyway, always too late and still tired. not telling anyone, because the thought of saying it all out loud makes it worse.
i let it slide, talking to a work crush. he's just so open and tender. it made sense. and even spilling one drop of it made my throat close. i breathed through it and backed away. it hurts too much to talk about. again.
i've always been this foolish, but i spent so many years forgetting that it's taking me by surprise.
when you love hard, you hurt.