Somebody pat me on the back and tell me how talented I am.
Chantal says that I exhibit all the signs of an adopted child, affectionate with anyone I meet yet incapable of getting close to anyone.
Y'see, I fucked up. Already.
Met a nice guy, someone normal. A little boring, maybe, but talented and good-hearted and without the trappings of a mangled ego...
Maybe a little shy, but we were talking, even.
And hey, anyone who can kiss like that can't be all bad. ;)
And so we had plans to write songs together, my masticulated lyrics and his wizardry with any instrument he can pick up, we had plans to go skating on the river by the house he grew up in, so far out in the boonies that he never learned french.
We watched tv, together, even - and he ever so patiently explained the point of the show, the point of whatching it, swathed in a bright blue blanket and all curled up.
And Saturday night's sexual initiation that lasted well into Sunday was delightful... Falling asleep stretched across random limbs, and waking up to see that strange smile as he played with the fuschia ends of my hair.
And just as I was getting used to his voice on the phone, and just as I was getting used to the idea that this is a nice guy, I think I screwed up, but maybe I'm being Justin-type paranoid.
Which bothers me even more, cuz I'm not supposed to care, right? He's just some guy from work.
Just some guy.
And Monday night I had ten million things planned, ski team meetings and lifts home for people and "la guerre des tuques" that we're going to have this winter, but it was all over around 9 o'clock so I called him
I know his number by heart you see
and so I called him from Pierre's cell and he invited me over
and we played guitar and he taught me three chords and I did 'em over an' over, faster an' faster, until my fingers were too red to keep playing, and we talked about our childhoods and when I told him
how my father locked me in the garage one night because I'd crawled out of bed and "didn't deserve a warm place to sleep if I didn't appreciate it" he cried
and I got all confused again.
I got scared. I don't want anyone crying over my childhood. It's what made me, right? And I survived, real good, too, and I don't want anyone else touching it...
I think. I don't know.
In any case, bedroom acrobatics ensued, and around one in the morning when he was pulling me under the sheets with him, I got up and started to get dressed
"Where are you going?"
"I'm sorry Dave, I'm not comfortable sleeping here"
"Why not?"
"Because you're a nice guy, and sneaking out with my shoes in my hands at four o'clock in the morning wouldn't be fair, and I guess mornings have become too intimate for me..."
"Oh, well, get out then"
He was laughing and stuff but I didn't notice the change of tone in his voice until yesterday afternoon
And he had a headache and wasn't feeling well...
But I got home very late last night, and won't have time for him the next few nights, and when I got here this morning
his usual epic e-mail of whatever randomly crawls through his head when we stay here too late
wasn't there.
And he hasn't answered my "hey, you feeling any better today?" or anything.
Maybe he really is sick, but I'm afraid, me, fearless crazy monstre, is afraid to head six doors down a hallway to see.
I don't even understand what's in my head today.
But tonight I'll be partying with Kaffeine and a special surprise guest, and my appartment's a mess and it's snowing again and even tho I've got snow-tires it makes me a little nervous and I got smut for Christmas from Paul and Ris and I miss my beautiful princess and Peter's going insane today and my Debian install has gone awry and all these clamouring events...
...and I know part of this downswing is the unshakeable depression of PMS, every month I know I lose my inner grin to three days of insecurity...
but I can't shake it. I can't shake this cloud.
So I give up. Monstres are solitary creatures, and we fill a necessary role, and we fill it with all the spectacularity of an exploding star...
And we burn too bright and too loud and too fierce to come near.