a breath of feeling

Sneaking in to a house a 3 somehitng in the morning, where your ex boyfriend and his parents lay asleep is always a sign of an interesting night. A type of night you probably will remember on your deathbed and laugh. Rewind to 2 pm of the previous day. The day that I decided to dress up and channel my inner personality to the outside world, I found myself hanging out and making friends in the south central district of Los Angles. Hanging out at USC is usually a sign of two things, you have a rich parental unit, or you are hella smart. Since I am neither, I pretended. To be both I presume. Sitting on 30th st waiting for my little Russian friend to come and pick me up. I realized how shallow people are, how they ponder only about how others perceive them, how nervous they are to smile back when you smile. And I also noticed that the case progresses the prettier the person is. Anyhow.

When I first moved to LA, I lived with an older lady, who I knew for the major part of my life. ALl her daughter's friends embraced me in to their "circle." In this circle, there was ( and still is) the most drama-queen gay boy I have EVER met. The mere details of his personality and daily dramatic over-reactions could easily be emmy-nominees. Well this Drama Queen, would always tell me how I would be perfect for his brother. Then his mother came and said the same thing. They all did. And silly little me kept searching, kept looking for love. For the perfect match. And I always came up empty-handed. ( yes yes, they were all experiences, but after a certain point, when you are surrounded by perfect blondes, the numbness spreads to the point where even when you accidentally burn yourself on the stove seems like a great thing, after all you finally felt something)

Now, few years past the point of being part of the group, I embarked on the most pointless relationship ever. Two years of wasted time. Two years of experiance that could have done without. A relationship that made me number than ever before. And then I met him. 3 days before he was supposed to leave, I met him, the younger brother that everyone told me about. the salt to my pepper.

I met him, and it was just .....click. I thought people lied when they said random ass shit like that.

I laughed, he was confused, and then he understood. He's been told the same thing for the past two years.

We sat in a group of three, slowly getting drunker and braver. Knowing that time was not on our side, we drank some more and laughed harder. He stared, I smiled. People noticed. We talk about girlfriends, and boyfriends, dicks and pricks, plastic surgery that I wanted to get. He said something cheesy in return, making me blush. We then decided that it was a great idea to drive down to the beach. Bottle of tequila in hand, we pretended to leap, talking about the water and fears of it. I smoked weed, he stood still. I twirled and stood on point. He was speechless. He talked about the girl he's dating. How I tried not to say something. But I think goodbye was the hardest. He smiled and said, I'll see you a year from now.

I have been crying and baking all day. turning this.......

to This.....

Yes, Bailey was a real trooper, helping me clean up any mess off of the floor within seconds. And looking very concerned every time I sobbed. It kinda reminds me of this song.

I'm gonna go cry some more.