lovers on the carousel won't ride forever.

i'm starting to think there's something wrong with me.

i'm restless in an aimless sort of way. the other day i didn't feel like going home, so i followed a school bus around town. it was dropping off junior high kids. i hate junior high kids, but i got some sort of thrill out of following this bus' every turn, stopping whenever it did. i laughed at every stop. then, to make it even more perfect, i happened to notice that this bus & i, we were heading some sort of commuter parade. cars & busses were lined up far beyond my point of vision. i was thrilled.

i had a great time last night. hung around with some crazy kids, text the boy all through the night, & bailed at 6am.

i don't know why i left. but i was jumping out of my skin, i hadn't slept yet, & i'm sneaking out of my best friends house, i said, "hey pete, i'm taking off." & from underneath comforters & pillows she & the rest of the group mumble, "bye court"

so i'm trying to get out of this house quietly. find shoes, collect belongings. trying not to wake anyone up, because i couldn't explain where i was going if my life depended on it. & it was simply to early to lie.

it was still dark when i left & my car seemed lonely on the street, like maybe it was the only car in the neighborhood.

there's this one street by my house that's always high traffic, except early in the morning. i love it then. all of these lanes & places to turn, empty parking lots & i'm the only one around.

i was driving down it, & i saw one of the million gaudy christmas displays this town puts up. this fucking 9 foot tall santa, who looks pissed as all hell, & a snowman just as big & just as supposedly cheerful. i looked at them, & all the lights & i just got really depressed about where i am. i mean you know when you're looking around & you're like, "this is where i live." & you don't just mean the town or the state, you mean the place that you live, because some mornings it all seems the same, where your body is, where your mind is, where your heart is...it's all the same. & you sink a little, because maybe this is as good as it gets.

but i regained my focus or lack thereof & continued to drive. decided i was in desperate need of coffee, but halfway there this maria mena song got into my system & i started crying a little, & i was like, "i can't show up at a drive-thru looking like this." so i pulled into a parking lot & did my make up. sucked it up. what, i don't know. but i'm just not in the mood to feel dissatisfied.

i'm starting to feel a little bad about this guy. i mean not really bad but i guess i'm just thinking about the consequences. it means more to him than it does to me, which is fine except i'm impulsive & there isn't a person alive whose feelings are more important to me than my own capricious tendencies. i will hurt him.

but i don't want to. i mean i shouldn't. i don't want to prove anything. usually i do. my inevitable "i've still got it" cause where's the fun in never making a difference?

but this is something i can't call off. i can't say, "nevermind" or offer reasons why this little whatever of ours won't work. i can't ignore him or make excuses. he's too essential for all that. he's been around for years & he's part of this elite group of males who actually know me pretty well. i can't mess this friendship up. so maybe, somehow, i have to make him miss his exgirlfriend. i doubt it'll work. when i want them to forget, they just fall short of getting a reminder tattoo. when i want them to do whatever allows them to let go of me...they get a reminder tattoo that says something stupid, like "she's perfect."

hey, you gave me my first smile of the morning. you, not him. i don't mean to talk to you where you won't read this, & don't worry, i don't mean to talk to you at all. but my ipod is on shuffle, as usual, & "banana pancakes" came on & i always used to think about you when i heard this song, when you'd be working all the time, living the military life. "but baby, you hardly even notice when i try to show you, this song is meant to keep you from doing what you're supposed to" sorry. forgive my relapse?

oh, well. it's 8 o'clock in the morning. i suppose i should go to bed now.

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