Kick Shmick Dick Lick Liar

I, am broken.

And all I can feel is my eyes rolling back.

Blurg.

Eva

No Worries

I sit at the bar alone, sipping steadily on my beverage and savoring the moment with only one little voice in my ear. I spent hours today nursing people through their bad days, their bad weeks, their broken hearts. I check my phone again, no calls.

In a flash, I see a blade.

Smiling coyly at Brendan and not even having to flirt with Carlos, I try to patch the feeling I have like a last-ditch effort on fraying old jeans. I stroke her hair and empathize. I do. It isn't a lie. "I saw him with another girl, beautiful, blonde." Hands laced affectionately. I tell her we have poor taste. These guys, they leave us because they are flawed, don't want even what they really want. I promise there is not something wrong with us, it isn't our fault. I don't even believe myself. A weak pink lense over a painful pattern.

In a flash, without any movement, I am open, peeled back in so clean a motion I don't even seen it, I just see me, blood-red flower, pulsing away.

The worst part is that this is how I breathe more deeply. I feel now like this has given me an extra place to touch oxygen. There is the fizzy sensation of heat and chill clashing with one another and my eyes feast on it, the only thing that I can focus on, figure out.

Brendan tells me a holiday joke. His arms splayed to the left and right of his torso, a line across his shoulders, he says, "What's this?"

Dunno.

"A crappy way to spend Easter."

Not So. Sweet and Lowdown.

It is kind of late. Not too late. But certainly an hour that highlights loneliness. I decided, a few weeks ago, to relegate my narcissism to where it belongs, a creepy bottom drawer that was full of some pretty gnarly mystery dust in the dresser that got taken from my room last week. I intended to post about some interesting, wider-appeal items. Take a page from my scholarly friends and enlighten the world after I have enlightened myself. Broadcast and opine.

I fail. I have been busy. A lot of busy. A lot of drinking. Two seven-night benders in the last 3 or 4 weeks. Lots of work and a good dose of kissing boys. Never combined, sadly, as that might make this worth reading. Maybe. People DO love a good workplace soapy drama.

But really, my life feels like a revolving door. So much coming in and plenty going out, leaves me feeling (on a given day, in a given week, this year), like my gauges are off. The rubric for judging my life is unbalanced and inconsistent. If I were a teacher, grading my life on this scale, I would for sure fail.

I need the weather to turn. I need to start exercising and re-introduce solid foods into my diet. I need to get organized and I need to start tanning. I feel like I need somebody. I am annoyed that I feel this way. I chide myself for it. I should not feel this way. I have gotten many of the things I ever asked for. I made some new friends. I am in a kickball league. I get plenty of attention from those penis-laden creatures we call men. I got a promotion and am due for another. I am getting further and further with the magazine (though, admittedly, this is also a stress) and I love my roommate. My family is healthy, happy, supportive, and great.

Be happy. Be happy. Be happy.

I think I am. Mostly. But still I am on my couch at 11:15 on a Friday, a much needed respite from debauchery, drunken lip-locking, and 3 hour nights, and I am feeling sub-par. Feeling like I am missing something, like I need something.

Gross, that sounds vaguely like a desire to find religion. Now I am lonelier.