it's fine actually. but still
02.04.20 | 4:56 pm


the bass from my neighbor's music thuds heavily, feels as though it's knocking on the wall between our apartments. the auto-tuned voices seem to reach through the air, making their way into my ears. it has infiltrated my mind, makes it difficult to think, to focus on anything, to be able to do anything. i just sit and stare at the wall, the wall between our apartments, and wait for it to end.

--

all i want are regency era romantic dramas where two people realize they've fallen in love with each other without ever touching, from far apart, and who end up happily married by the end. give me someone being bewitched body and soul. give me two souls being made of the same thing. give me people being each other's best earthly companions.

let me live vicariously through these stories as i stare out my window, alone in this 16m2 apartment, for god knows how long.

--

"i got my first paycheck," you said. "next round's on me."

"well, i still owe you a drink to celebrate you getting the job in the first place."

"oh yeah, i forgot about that. then we'll celebrate the end of confinement. and not being dead."

--

the days flip-flop predictably. one day of productivity, of feeling good, of reaching out. one day of laziness, of hiding, of sinking into despair of some kind. does it sound dramatic? it doesn't feel dramatic. just true.

--

you keep showing up in my dreams uninvited. the other day you asked me, "how long was your longest relationship? and how long did it take you to get over them?" and i answered honestly: two four-year relationships. the first one took no time to get over. the second? at least a year, if not more. "wow," you said. "so four months after a five to six year relationship for me is nothing." no, no. take your time. take your time.

--

normally, the way i'd deal with the way i feel right now -- how i'm retreating inside my head, less willing to reach out, trying to roll into a ball and stay there -- would be to force myself outside, force myself to see other people. but, of course, that isn't a possibility now. so i stay under the covers, wrapped in my coziest clothes, refusing to turn the heater on for some reason, hoping at some point i'll stay warm.


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