Gloomy Goosey to Spunky Monkey
Oh Life, how you play these games. Must you give it all to me at once?
The past three days had me in the middle of an emotional Tug 'O' War.
Friday I shopped to decorate my exterior shell. I got some wonderful outfits that put a smile on my face the size of Japanese animation smiles (very wide).
After, I met up with Alfonso a delightful man whose quirkiness hugs my heart. Alfonso has traces of Woody Allen, if Woody Allen was Asian and had a bubble butt.
Alfonso takes me to the edge of the East River and as we battle the hurricane freezing wind we chat about what used to be and what there is to come. He makes me feel so relaxed and welcomed. He's slowly making a place for himself in the little box in which I keep my friendships.
That night my legs hit the dance floor as Aaron and I made a trip to the far East. The Web is an Asian night club in New York City, where they play pop remixes, have go-go dancers with bodies taken straight out of comic books, and where geriatric men lurk around every corner looking for someone they can share the effects of the Viagra they've just swallowed.
As I hit the bar for another beer, my aging body can no longer do hard liquor, a young man with a radiance of a million charming car salesmen follows me and tags me against the bar. Compliments fly out of his mouth hitting me all over like candy flying out of a piñata. I recognize him from the internet world but he doesn't recognize me. I smile, I'm shy in the presence of his forthcoming nature, his sweet aggression. I stand at 5'10" and he only at 5'6" but his speech makes him a giant and turns me into a giggling school girl. I flirt back rather tragically and make an exit as if the club had suddenly caught fire. I rejoin Aaron on the dance floor and we dance the night away.
How was I to know that would be the climax and it would be all down hill from there. I hop into a cab and head south. I call the man I've been dating for the past six months to see if he'd like to accept some of my midnight kisses, although it was past midnight this prince had to see his Cinderella. Some fairy tales don't have a happy ending though. I arrive and we talk on the steps of his apartment building
"Lets be friends" should win the award for the phrase that provokes bodily harm to another person. "How can we be friends if we've never been friends" I ask my lover of six months. He bowed his head and agreed. How could we be friends when I was in love with him yet he wasn't in love with me. The balance was tipping over and it was time to head out.
As we said our good-byes my mind couldn't help but think of the young salesman at the bar that made me smile. I couldn't help but think of how in a matter of hours I had been desired and rejected. Oh life how you tease.
The next day my friends took my worries away with a huge pillow fight in Union Square followed by real moments of warm friendship. And the day after that I was reminded that my passion for photography could not be put on hold as I took photos of a friend who will soon be moving across country to pursue his dreams.
I guess I've not had time to mourn my romantic lose. A part of me doesn't really know how to mourn the lose. I know that sitting home alone staring at the walls won't get me anywhere but at the same time when I look into someone's eyes I almost feel compelled to force a smile.
How silly life is, when you feel as if the lose of love is the most important thing in the world at the moment. You easily forget that there are worse things happening in the world, things that are bigger than yourself. Yet, when love is lost it seems like your world has come crumbling down like a house of cards. Yeah, that's pretty fucking cliche but if you can't be dramatic when discussing the matters of love then when can you be.
Tonight I'll be having dinner with my friend Todd whose dry sense of humor, condescending stares, and witty remarks will facilitate my transition from gloomy goosey to spunky monkey.
That's that.
The past three days had me in the middle of an emotional Tug 'O' War.
Friday I shopped to decorate my exterior shell. I got some wonderful outfits that put a smile on my face the size of Japanese animation smiles (very wide).
After, I met up with Alfonso a delightful man whose quirkiness hugs my heart. Alfonso has traces of Woody Allen, if Woody Allen was Asian and had a bubble butt.
Alfonso takes me to the edge of the East River and as we battle the hurricane freezing wind we chat about what used to be and what there is to come. He makes me feel so relaxed and welcomed. He's slowly making a place for himself in the little box in which I keep my friendships.
That night my legs hit the dance floor as Aaron and I made a trip to the far East. The Web is an Asian night club in New York City, where they play pop remixes, have go-go dancers with bodies taken straight out of comic books, and where geriatric men lurk around every corner looking for someone they can share the effects of the Viagra they've just swallowed.
As I hit the bar for another beer, my aging body can no longer do hard liquor, a young man with a radiance of a million charming car salesmen follows me and tags me against the bar. Compliments fly out of his mouth hitting me all over like candy flying out of a piñata. I recognize him from the internet world but he doesn't recognize me. I smile, I'm shy in the presence of his forthcoming nature, his sweet aggression. I stand at 5'10" and he only at 5'6" but his speech makes him a giant and turns me into a giggling school girl. I flirt back rather tragically and make an exit as if the club had suddenly caught fire. I rejoin Aaron on the dance floor and we dance the night away.
How was I to know that would be the climax and it would be all down hill from there. I hop into a cab and head south. I call the man I've been dating for the past six months to see if he'd like to accept some of my midnight kisses, although it was past midnight this prince had to see his Cinderella. Some fairy tales don't have a happy ending though. I arrive and we talk on the steps of his apartment building
"Lets be friends" should win the award for the phrase that provokes bodily harm to another person. "How can we be friends if we've never been friends" I ask my lover of six months. He bowed his head and agreed. How could we be friends when I was in love with him yet he wasn't in love with me. The balance was tipping over and it was time to head out.
As we said our good-byes my mind couldn't help but think of the young salesman at the bar that made me smile. I couldn't help but think of how in a matter of hours I had been desired and rejected. Oh life how you tease.
The next day my friends took my worries away with a huge pillow fight in Union Square followed by real moments of warm friendship. And the day after that I was reminded that my passion for photography could not be put on hold as I took photos of a friend who will soon be moving across country to pursue his dreams.
I guess I've not had time to mourn my romantic lose. A part of me doesn't really know how to mourn the lose. I know that sitting home alone staring at the walls won't get me anywhere but at the same time when I look into someone's eyes I almost feel compelled to force a smile.
How silly life is, when you feel as if the lose of love is the most important thing in the world at the moment. You easily forget that there are worse things happening in the world, things that are bigger than yourself. Yet, when love is lost it seems like your world has come crumbling down like a house of cards. Yeah, that's pretty fucking cliche but if you can't be dramatic when discussing the matters of love then when can you be.
Tonight I'll be having dinner with my friend Todd whose dry sense of humor, condescending stares, and witty remarks will facilitate my transition from gloomy goosey to spunky monkey.
That's that.
posted by A at
March 24, 2008
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