She was the third beer. Not the first one, which the throat receives with almost tearful gratitude; nor the second, that confirms and extends the pleasure of the first. But the third, the one you drink because it’s there, because it can’t hurt, and because what difference does it make?
If people want to let you go, just let them do it. They may not understand who you are. So don’t play around with fire; don’t give them their cake and let them eat it, too. Here is your rule of thumb: they either commit to you or get none of you.
It took me so long to do so many important things. It’s hard to accept that I spent so many years being less happy than I could’ve been. Jim was five feet from my desk and it took me four years to get to him. It’d be great if people saw this documentary and learned from my mistakes. Not that I’m a tragic person, I’m really happy now. But it would just make my heart soar if someone out there saw this and she said to herself, ‘Be strong. Trust yourself. Love yourself. Conquer your fears. Just go after what you want and act fast! Because life just isn’t that long!’
I do try. I’m the one that never calls too often and acts like it’s no sweat. I’m the one that stays busy, a blip here and then there. You won’t find me anywhere too long beyond what is welcome. Right?
Truth is that I am uncool. Goofy when it’s harmless. Frightening when I lose footing. I’m terrified of being seen with my love hanging out.
I know. I’m fooling no one but myself. Everybody knows. Now. I got caught loving, longing, dancing well after the music stopped.
Loneliness is lonely. I miss being in love and I miss being loved and I miss belonging to someone and I miss having someone to tell important things to and I worry that my missing those things will affect the choices I make and get me into trouble and I worry that I’ll forever feel like a dust mote floating around without anywhere to settle.