prosaic

this is going to be difficult to write, i can tell. i drove around for an extra half hour instead of coming straight home because i was not sure if i could stay on topic enough to say what i thought i should say. i could write page after page if i allowed myself to. this is me attempting restraint.

one thing that has been really troubling me lately is the urge to watch a movie. i have a fair enough selection, and i like almost every one. the problem is that i cannot start one. it is too arduous a task. just thinking about watching a movie drains me. my mind goes somewhere else, my eyes unfocus, my face sags, and my chest feels hollow and sore. someone should be there on the couch when i turn around. someone should be laying there with me. leaning on me. sitting next to me. asking, if, maybe, if it is not too much trouble, if i could get up and get them a glass of, or a bowl of, or a bite of, or a blanket..

the other thing is the whole routine of going to bed. turning out lights, planning a way from the bathroom to the bedroom before turning that light out too and stumbling in that direction, the sound of glasses being laid on a table, a dresser, or a desk. and when i slide into bed, if a warm pair of legs or pajama pants are not already there, they should be coming along shortly.

just sitting here alone and typing this out has made my heart race in my vacant, tin, chest cavity.

i do not know why i figured life would get easier as time went on. i am so very gullible.