it's good to be with
girls again. and better to be with
gay girls, because you're reminded of the wider
perspective - that you're a girl and yeah,
no matter how special you may think you are, the world is full of people like you and a lot of them
aren't boys. sometimes i feel like
a cat who's been raised with dogs. and then i'm in a room full of cats and reminded of
who i am. and certainly, there are lots of
girls i can't stand, but i only need one or two
touchstones to realize
we're not the stereotypes people make of us.
last night's thoughts wandered over into today and seem as
clear and sensible as the sky. we sat around, drinking
bitch beer and watching
car wash, and we talked about the
shit you just don't mention with boys, particularly not the ones you're
messing around with. because you bring up
family or
history or
pain and you can watch their skin crawl, supremely annoying because you know they have the same sorts of stories, that they're not little
cookie cutter products of suburbia.
last night made me think i've overrated the whole
casual sex hypothesis, that not only do i need to be
alone, i need to be unfettered by a boy's hands on me. it's begun to seem sort of pointless, boring,
repetitive. the same building up, the same
pronouncements of lust, the act -
impersonal - and the afterward akward laughter and rolling over to sleep as quickly as possible to avoid giving
the wrong impression. it's been done and done and to hell with it. no,
trite nights sleeping in someone else's bed are not so exciting. they are, as a matter of fact,
predictable.
i've seen
the same faces for a year, coming together in alternating
couplings, drifting apart, attentive from time to time, distant in the same pattern. and i remember that in the beginning not one appealed to me. but i lowered my
standards, fixated on a boy and decided to convince myself i wanted him. and i got it and it was
shit and from there i went to
quick little snack size relationships of short flirting and a few nights of screwing, then ignoring each other. it was dumb, like
eating potato chips because you're bored.
i've always been certain i knew what i wanted, but last night i saw my own capacity for
fooling myself.
optimism rears its head and so convince yourself this is what you sought and
nothing else. but i don't want to share myself right now, and not only emotionally. and though
sex is a fine way to pass the days, it's uninteresting when you won't want it again.