My horoscope says that I should be prepared for Love. For love with someone who is not "my type". This hypothetical threat of love is, further, supposed to change my life. To calm me down (which I need, I guess). I am thinking of the laundry list of boys who I've dated / had crushes on the last few weeks and I am imagining them pulling straws. Poor unfortunate dark-haired guy: I inflict myself on you. I hazard my affection towards you. I'm sorry in advance.
My life feels very painful today and it is not as easy to live as Sontag said. It is, in fact so unbearable, sometimes. I am worried that it will always be like this, that my inability to enjoy anything might be a permanent defect.
Three hundred and sixty five days ago (give or take), I drank a bottle of wine with you in your living room. It was our second date. I put on Stereolab and we laid on the floor. Carpeted and comfortable, but it was freezing this time last year. You had only lived in that apartment, way uptown, for a few months, but hadn't decorated anything. We argued about your parents' politics. You said how relieved you were that i was a good kisser. Instead of saying 'thank you', I said "Well, I've had a lot of practice". In the morning it was too cold to get out of bed.
So unbearable? Maybe.