what i really wanted to say...

lately that's how it's been. i see you and we talk and friendly we are except for when you're drunk or i'm drunk or we're both drunk and from far away-apart-we talk like we forget that five plus years have passed.

skirting the boundaries of permissible ex conversation, especially in light of the fact that there's a her and i have no him. at least not right now.

and even when i do, even when i do...

somewhere back way back in the deepest recesses of my tortured mind i look for you. the faintest trace of you. the quirk in the smile. the weirdshit shared wavelength, the squinty eyed glare, the way with words, the almost gay laugh.

every now and then, every now and then someone comes along and i think maybe. but whether it takes me two weeks or two years to find out, find out i do. i look for traces of you in them, and i see none. and alone, again, naturally.

though lately i like the alone thing. in light of the past month's events i've discovered in me a far larger capacity for taking blows than i thought i had. no one to take my time, consciously or not, no one to occupy my thoughts in the middle of dull dull dead days, gave birth to more time to make friends and find meaning in a lot of conversations over a beer or two (or three). or have random encounters with barely there guys.

alone is fine right now, right here. but then here i go again, starting something with someone. looking for something i don't think i'll find.


more and more i get this feeling that you're that one fish. i hate ally mcbeal.