graceland's Diaryland Diary
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If I move my bishop, will you give my your queen?
I got a lot going on right now. I've got the mother living with us and the ex-crush in my grill.
I need to blow off steam but between chilling out at home with the mom because I have no money and babysitting the giant drunken idiot the few times I go out, I don't get much Graceland time.
This weekend is mine, even though the idiot says we are hanging out. He says he's picking me up at a christmas party in Brooklyn and taking me to another one we are expected at in the West Village Saturday night. Whatevs.
Tonight was the telltale night. I've known that my best friend doesn't heart him. My roommate just reconciled with him and I guess that's huge for a dude to deal with a toughass roommate who beats you down unexpectedly at a Christmas party where you showed up knowing no one but the girl you came to see. And she splits for an hour leaving you with her drunken roommate who doesn't like you. My Philly friends want to meet him.
But tonight the guy who owns my local bar, who is cool to everyone, said to me after being very nice about him for weeks, "that's got to get old. It's going to get old, Grace, cut it. Cut now."
Before that, my best guy friend (who loves the guy) said, "I can see it's not it. I am rooting for it and his friends are rooting for it, but I know you and you aren't in love with him now. He's in and you aren't."
I don't think I *am* in love with him. Not anymore. But we hang out and etc.
If I let him go, I break him twice. Or I break myself twice, I'm not sure which. Maybe it's me. I think it's he and I. We can't seem to get the timing together.
I think it's me. I don't know how to be with anyone. He knows this. It has to be why he puts so much effort into it. I mean, really. He brought it up tonight, but he was drunk, so did he mean it?
That's kinda how it always is. He gets drunk. I get fucked up.
He wants talk. He's ready to talk. He's broached the talk several times. I avoid it and get fucked up. I need to step up and talk with him. This weekend.
I just dread the talk, because it's so nice to just be held. It's the best feeling in the world when he envelopes me in his arms like he always does and just holds me there against him. Tightly. And sometimes he kisses the top of my head or the side of my neck and every time he does that, or all of those moments that are countless throughout the night, everything is perfect and I finally feel loved and I finally feel safe. And I feel like I am going to fuck it all up if I say how I feel or can't adequately say how I feel. Or maybe I feel something that he doesn't. I don't know.
Mostly he makes me feel safe and I that's what I think I've been looking for my whole life. And he's a best friend and I don't have many of them. He knows things about me that I forget.
Yet,I sometimes can't help but think of another guy who fulfilled something else in me and didn't heart me back.
I feel confused. I should talk to him. This weekend. I should talk to him this weekend.
I wish it were easier. I wish it were like a fairytale.
This is it. This weekend we settle this. I have to do it. I have to advance the chessboard because other people are waiting in line.
Congrats, you've got a little Rufus in you! Raised
on opera and his mother's show-biz sensibility,
Rufus is a master songwriter and performer.
Though prone to excess and moodiness, his
off-kilter sense of humor and fashion and his
radiant presence make him a joy to be around.
Don't be ashamed; if this still small voice
speaks up within you (with a bit of a slur and
a lisp), listen up! He could make you a star.
Who's your inner gay man?
brought to you by Quizilla
1103276939 - 2004-12-17
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