He came, I didn’t.

Wednesday, December 4, 1996
10:30am, train

Here’s what it is. Frank and I take turns freaking out. Last night I was asking if he liked and could deal with the real me who has a great need and desire for real closeness and intimacy. Oh, forget it; it’s boring. I’m bored of it. Why do I resist knowing? I know he’s not up to it.

Yesterday after work we went to the movies and back to his place, had sex. He came, I didn’t. He shut his eyes. I am so angry at men. I am angry at him. So I just picked up and left pretty fast, saying it’s late. I guess I think he should be smart enough to recognize me and what I need, and capable of delivering it. I have no problem most of the time doing that with my friends. Are they capable of it with me? I don’t know, and I shoved past someone I know on the way into the train and didn’t stop to acknowledge it because I didn’t want to. And I can’t really place her to begin with. It makes me feel worse.

Oh well, I won’t get into too big a stew. And my job is an enormous joke sometimes.  Why don’t I have someone to really be with, relax and talk with and love and make love to? There’s nobody out there who’s worthy of it. I started thinking about Nicole for no reason. I don’t think she’s my soul mate. I think she’s my soul opposite.

On the Manhattan Bridge right now I’m feeling okay, feeling really okay, except god, who is this woman I pushed past? I was repeating my own lines to myself on the bridge: I stand in the span, etc., etc.

Had a pretty good productive fantasy that I got a great story fragment together, and subbed that for the poem that’s currently going in the PoemFone book. and then based on it, all these New York publishers started conducting a bidding war for my book and I got an advance, and I just wrote it for the next six months, or year, until it’s done, and then I finally did what I wanted.

Oh, I want some love so bad that it feels like a crisis. It makes me want to call Ted and go over there to watch a movie and cuddle. I want to be cuddled and stroked and paid attention to.

Thursday, December 5, 1996
11:45am, train

Good, now what? So yesterday was one of those weird shapeless days when I’m not sure exactly what I do, so I drift from department to department waiting for it to be over.

I had lunch with Ian which was quiet and weird. I guess we’re not that close and comfortable after all. I got a call from Ted, which I was happy about as I miss him and was feeling strange and guilty. He sounds like he’s doing pretty well.

I hung out with Raj after work and went to the bar at Dojo’s. He got drunk, we went back to work to get high. Mat told his comedy stories, then Raj left and Mat and I got food at the Indian Deli.

We went back upstairs and hung out with Josh, Frank, Mike, and Calder and tried out Josh’s new digital camera, then played back the tape. It was so weird watching video taken fifteen seconds before. I was unpleasantly surprised by how buck and grayish my teeth looked; how fat my cheeks and messy my hair, how puffy my eyes.

Then when we stepped out of the AV room back into where we’d been clowning around and filming, it was too surreal. I said a private goodnight to Frank downstairs in his office, told him about my day, felt him a modicum of connection, then left, came home, sacked out.

I’m so happy I actually feel comfortable at work and that Josh likes me. I need a good Daddy. Judith confirmed yesterday, yeah, you’re sensitive and you’re special and it’s going to be hard for you to find people to hang out with. Art shows and museums, movies, what do people do? Readings are out. I don’t enjoy them. Shopping is too expensive, and it makes me feel like I’ll never catch up. Sucking my thumb is out. Too bad.

Lunch

Now I’m somewhere else, angry or not quite fully angry, but peeved. I showed up at Hil’s for lunch and one of her dumb suitors is around. Now we’re here at Broadway Pan Handler, because he has to buy potholders. And fuck this; I have my own errands, and life is too short. I’m tired, I don’t want this fucking guy around, and he’ll probably follow us back to Hil’s, but I’ll split if that looks like the case, because this is bullshit. So anyway.

This blows, and it continues to blow. What am I going to do or say about it? I really feel like just walking out right now, walking back home across the bridge by myself, walking back and forth across the bridge. I’m glad I didn’t smoke at Hil’s. I was only there for five minutes. Did a quick salute to the sun instead.

This is an annoyance and waste of my time. I don’t care if we’ve only been here 15 minutes. Let’s go.