For the past several nights I have been sleeping in the East Village. As I type this diary entry, I am sitting on the twin-sized bed in my tiny bedroom, which is right against a window looking out on to East 7th Street. There is a tree outside my window and I can see the branches move in the wind, and can feel comfortable knowing that I am not in that cold wind, but inside my new place of residence. On my window ledge sits an amaryllis plant which has yet to flower and which was brought over as a housewarming gift by Diego last evening. It was such a sweet and unexpected gesture, especially coming from him, and especially after a weekend spent moving shit, having asked friends to help me out and them not really doing so. I look at this plant though and I like it a lot and wish I could like it more, wish that I could think of it as sweetly as I sort of am anyway, think of it as this sweet gesture from a boy I love.
When he came over yesterday, I wanted him to be naked with me in my bed, wanted things to be what they aren't. We talked about how our lives were going and during a lull, I asked him what else was going on in his life. He said that he was in a relationship now. I kind of knew this already but had yet to hear him say so, for him to make more clear that he had moved on. I felt really stupid that I hadn't, that I liked this boy, that I had had unreal expectations for him coming over, that those expectations were now clearly not going to be met, that I would be disappointed, and that I was not this boy - a swirl of stuff really, and my mood crashed as soon as he said this. He asked if he should go and I didn't say, "Yes, please," like I wanted to, instead tried to play it like the non-crazy person and tried to converse with him normally. I was unable to. I told him that I was really sad and at some point he left. There is a plant on my windowsill, a flower that I am supposed to water and take care of, and it is something I am going to see all the time, and all those times I will probably think about this boy, and so I am not sure I necessarily like this flower, wish that I could like it as much as I actually do.
Yesterday, I ran into this guy I had gone on a kind-of date with once, and he was reading a book about meditation, and he told me about his meditation practice, done as soon he woke up each day, before showering, before eating, before anything, and how much the practice had centered him, prepared him for each day, allowing him to be aware of himself, of what's real, and what's bullshit. It sounded really nice and I thought then how I should try something similar. I often think such things when people talk about things they are into, things benefiting their lives; rarely though do I follow through on such desires, the desires passing whims forgotten soon after, a song played, The Ikettes' "I'm Blue" instead holding my attention.
That song came on last night while I was hanging out with Diego and how apt I thought, how fucking apt.
I moved the rest of my shit out of my apartment yesterday with Gabriel. We lugged it to the thrift store by my house and threw the rest in the trash. I was glad for the help, really glad. I felt a bit sad about leaving the place, about the circumstances of my leaving, remembering again how much a friend proved to be not one, thinking human relationships are generally all shit. I left my keys on the table and didn't say goodbye to Niki, never really want to say anything to her ever again. I am quite good at ending certain things with people and yet with others cannot seem to do so for the life of me, even knowing the score, how the game is rigged, and which team is going to win, still keep betting it all on the losing team.
It's okay and I am, am feeling quite good about things. I am alive and in this city full of lovely people and I don't have to talk to a one of them and could talk to all of them, and it is all there and I am happy to be there also. I live in one of the most lovely neighborhoods in the most amazing city on this planet and am working at a great job and will only be working four days a week and things are actually going so fucking amazing, and and and -