5/7/13

I want to disappear, but there aren't enough ways to do it. I want to disappear into people. To point to the places where the seams end: "Look!" I'd say, excited, "it's already happening!"



I said: "I don't know what I want. Nothing appeals to me." I was hoping that he'd make me an offer. That he'd think maybe I had just overlooked him or his thing, and that if he drew my attention to it, it might be thing I need.  I want to meet someone who thinks they have what I need, and for once they'll be right. Maybe I'm not making myself emotionally available enough. Or have made myself too available, wasted my capacity. I'd read those stories, in high school, about aging gay porn stars, with destroyed bodies. Impotent, sure, speckled with carcinoma, with mouths, throats, assholes all busted, loosened. I want to think that my indecision would be attractive but I know it's not. I know I come across like a brat, I wish I didn't know it. I wish I thought I was the coolest, most plugged-in and attractive person. I wish I didn't know the awful truth about myself and I wish I didn't know it was usually true for everyone else too. I wish I didn't learn it about myself first. Maybe I didn't, actually. But hindsight's always 20/20. I recently had a conversation with someone I don't know very well, and I told her that I get nervous, just like anyone does, introducing myself to a handsome stranger in a bar. I told her I feel insecure, just like the rest of the world. She laughed in my face and said that it's silly for me to be insecure because I am attractive. It didn't make me feel amazing, or very attractive. It made me think how cute she was. I felt pretty guilty.

So much wasted time. It stinks!


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