Granted Living alone I miss
the calming presence of other men....certain people I
just have to be calm around. I had that with Jay
and it’s something I miss a lot. We used each other
like drugs, and I do know it. Still. Sometimes
weeks go by without my thinking of him much, but
last night my mom started asking me about him and
just brought all that back. And it was silly and
cheesy and weird and most terribly fucked-up but it
was fun. I want to remember, I just always
want to remember sitting with him in the dark,
listening to music, smoking cigarettes or cloves or
pot and telling each other story after story
for hours. No one has ever told me stories
like Jay, or at such appropriate moments. Sometimes
I think if I could see him again I would want to
give him a hug and say “I’m sorry – I tried to
push you into being something you weren’t but I
truely never meant to take you for granted and I
rarely meant to hurt you.” Other times I think
I would just want to shake him and ask “What
the fuck were you thinking, treating me like that?”
There are simple questions just about as often as
simple answers.  ¶ 12:01 AM