This, from a week or two ago:
I dreamt about matt last night. he came up to see me at my house, and while niki and chick were laughing over something on the computer, he stood close and told me, sheepishly, that he loved me. I did not tell him that I loved him back, but I did wrap him up in a hug, and when we were away from my building- we ended up finding an abandoned house as we walked around the neighborhood- I kissed him, and we just kissed: warm, pent-up fervent kisses.
When I was out being drunk last night, he told me he'd felt blindsided during Chick's birthday party last year- meeting Chris, when he thought i was unattached. I am rarely open with anyone, but perhaps i have underestimated matt's value as a friend. it might be too late anymore- i went to sleep feeling sick with beer and guilt, and awoke the same- but if matt hasn't edited me out of his heart, as a friend or otherwise, i am going to endeavor to be a better friend to him.
And this, from tonight:
i had such a lovely time in new york this weekend; heading back to cleveland left me as heavy as the sky's been here. i hate ohio lately. i've always wanted more. as a kid i was conscious of the world, if in a very child-like way, and dreamt of going there- wherever "there" was. sometimes i was content to sit and read about adventures, but sometimes i was anxious to get up and have them. it's no different now. days here telescope into darkness and then it's evening, and instead of people and places perking up, leaving work, walking with determination to the Next Thing, people are going home, closing down. Everything is dark and sparse, but unlike the darkness and wideness of the country, this urban quiet feels like exhaustion. a rural scene sleeps early but the night isn't silent, and the sleep is pure- it's rest. downtown empties so quickly, so completely. highways siphon life away after work; cleveland's full of sad dust settling after dark.