a new year

Dear Diary,

It's been a while since we have done this thing, you and I talking. It's a new year. It's 2009 and that really astounds me when I say the year sometimes and contemplate what that means, the passage of time and the quickness with which it occurs, my failure to really move at a pace equal (or even close to) that of the passing of time. My life is a mess and I am in transition. Towards what though, I am unsure of, and it is that question mark that concerns me.

The year started off quite terribly, Gabriel and I getting into a gigantic fight on New Year's Eve, me going home shortly after midnight, angry, depressed, and alone. We made up, having a nice discussion about our friendship, me telling him how he is my family and how important he is to me, the two of us agreeing to quit fucking things up, to put our grievances behind us, and to be nice, to be what friends are supposed to be.

I helped some of my friends throw a really amazing dance party at the Hose, Judy, which went off fantastically and which I had a great time at. Afterwards, we discussed the future of Judy and the frequency with which we wanted to have it, as well as ideas for things we would like to do with the party. This project filled my time well and was something that I was really excited about. Two days ago, I talked to Gabriel and he told me that he did not want me involved with Judy.

Our friendship has been fucked up for a long while, both of us being shitty to each other fairly often, but I was really excited about this agreement we had made to be nice, to be loving. This was not loving, was mean and unfriendly. I told him this, told him that this hurt my feelings a great deal. We talked for a long while about friendships, about ours, talking in circles, him having done something terrible and mean and something that will be on my mind when I think of him. And so there is that.

What is really troubling though is that this was my last really strong emotional connection to someone here in New York. A few months ago, Niki and I had a gigantic falling out, us not having talked since and probably never going to again, and that was, despite all our fighting, someone that knew me well, that I had some really strong bond to emotionally, something more than hanging out every so often and catching up on our lives. A month or so ago, Diego and I stopped talking altogether, it being too confusing and sad for me to do so. And now the last thread tying me to something, making me feel connected in a human way with someone, has been if not cut, nearly so.

I went to a play by myself this evening, The American Plan, really quite boring and stale, and thought about these things, me being there by myself allowing me to feel more lonely, to think about the issues more, about loneliness and friends and about the life I want to be living and about love, about wanting it.

It's a fine time for this change, there being no leaves on the tress, patches of ice on the ground, and highs of twenty degrees. And there is that, those things, and they do consume my thoughts from time to time, but not always. There are intense moments of happiness to be had also, these incredible swings between feeling defeated and feeling alive. My job is going well. I somehow got the schedule I wanted despite the hours of most people being cut. I have seen some good films lately, particularly noteworthy among them The Wrestler. I spent some time with David, though sadly most of it overshadowed by drama with Gabriel. There is still coffee to be had, bodegas selling the pleasure for a pittance, Dusty Springfield's amazing voice to comfort me, and conversations with strangers, new friends.