there are friendships and relationships that leave you heady with the love of life. a dinner and a movie with these kinds of people and you're driving home with the windows down, the smoky taste of tobacco and the night air, everything seen through some perfect gaussian filter that blurs the streetlights to dancing orbs peeling away from your speeding car. the sudden mist of evening showers, wet asphalt and perfume in the air and you feel so suddenly wonderfully alive. beautiful and free. like you could go on forever, like a contact high on a mountaintop of ecstasy and powdered sugar, barreling into the night.
and you know it takes a line of text in the cold light of your laptop from the other kind of friend that leaves all those fluttering feelings flailing like burnt bugs in a fly zapper. oh those kinds of friends. fair weather fairies fluttering flickering in furtive whispers, spring fevers, summer flings, autumn windfalls, fuckers all. fuck them all.
i've been struck with the broad side of my intuition, the great solid mass of my future, my adulticity. is this what it's like to wake up? strange it's so late in the night. and for some reason i imagined 20/20 vision, but what a cliché, right? what i mean is, what a waste of time. when i could be dancing in the evening rain. when i could be making breakfast plans with people who have good hearts, not empty husks. i know, i know, i know you can't hold time but i don't have time to spare for these vapors, for these vague manshapes and their breathy promises. these i'lltextyous and letsdolunch and loveyoulots, yeah, that's what i told your mom this morning, bitch.
i know i know i know you can't break a heart i mean it's an organ, it's very slippery and gamey probably, but i know mine knows pain in the most acute fashion, i'm not being emo i'm expressing a litany of emotions you could group together and if they were letters in an alphabet they'd spell something you'd recognize as heartbreak. there's a sound like the keening whine of cracking glass and you can't breathe and fuck but it hurts, and why are there tears. why am i crying over what appears to be dust in the glass. letters in the alphabet.
and i know, you know, i know there are times when you make mistakes and the people you think you love turn into statues of unknowable obsidian on the far side of olympus mons, what i mean is you don't know them anymore,
and maybe they've had these thoughts and i'm the bitch i'm the whore i'm the horrible bore that isn't worth their time. i'm the one with the loveyoulots and letsbefriends and whatever the fuck, i'm so sorry. god, god i'm so sorry. i never want to be that person ever again.
this is what waking up is. i'm so sorry, or fuck you. whatever you deserve. i'm done and i'm gone.