So Here We Are
Its the middle of whenever its the middle of and I want you to know I haven't abandoned this, my only real link between you and myself. I've been running and ducking, ducking and running. It seems some brad has been out bradding about. The first definition dear. Please. I wouldn't be writing about anything so vulgar. Anyway, of course I've just been terrified for myself and all my lesser cohorts but it seems the storm has passed. Oh, its as old as Christianity: if they're after you and your world changing ways, be sure to offer up a meaty enough sacrifice, and it will quell their violent appetites. So sorry, little Danny. Its the way it had to be.
And what has been going on with me...I've given Quentin a second chance. I don't really believe in relationships, so long-distance relationships are like the eastern bigfoot to me. Can you imagine? There are a whole group of people who believe that people who believe in an eastern sasquatch are just nutty because they're couldn't possibly be a yeti in the eastern U.S. The mountains are just too low. But a western yeti is perfectly plausible. Really its like some kind of fantasy. Well, you people who believe in stable relationship are just like that. Anyway, Quentin had called on the phone and practically cried to visit me again, and although this weekend was just jam-packed with things to do, I put them all aside to make room for him. Now he's sitting at home at my apartment probably fixing some amazing lunch to bring to me in the hopes that it will somehow ingratiate himself to me as though that is a quality I'm looking for in a man. He'd probably do himself a favor just doing a more thorough job with the insects. My poor little Mexican gardening boy may as well be blind.
I will say this. He's quite a performer. I don't mean in one particular scene he did justice to some true artist's words or that he happens to look the part, like some fiction made reality with makeup. I mean his game is without fault. Honestly, I feel I'm taking advantage, being just a bit indulgent. I couldn't possibly live this way. I'm a lady. Honestly, if that was what it was all about, he'd be enough, by himself. Its kind of amazing actually. One normally imagines the man can't possibly keep up--that's no pun--especially since he has to do all the work. But, my self. Its just too much to even think about. Of course, the credit is likely due in no small part to my own self, with whom it is a pleasure for him to be.
I'm putting him on a plane tonight and saying goodbye forever. Its a bit comforting to know that there is a Quentin out there, but even he isn't good enough for me.
And what has been going on with me...I've given Quentin a second chance. I don't really believe in relationships, so long-distance relationships are like the eastern bigfoot to me. Can you imagine? There are a whole group of people who believe that people who believe in an eastern sasquatch are just nutty because they're couldn't possibly be a yeti in the eastern U.S. The mountains are just too low. But a western yeti is perfectly plausible. Really its like some kind of fantasy. Well, you people who believe in stable relationship are just like that. Anyway, Quentin had called on the phone and practically cried to visit me again, and although this weekend was just jam-packed with things to do, I put them all aside to make room for him. Now he's sitting at home at my apartment probably fixing some amazing lunch to bring to me in the hopes that it will somehow ingratiate himself to me as though that is a quality I'm looking for in a man. He'd probably do himself a favor just doing a more thorough job with the insects. My poor little Mexican gardening boy may as well be blind.
I will say this. He's quite a performer. I don't mean in one particular scene he did justice to some true artist's words or that he happens to look the part, like some fiction made reality with makeup. I mean his game is without fault. Honestly, I feel I'm taking advantage, being just a bit indulgent. I couldn't possibly live this way. I'm a lady. Honestly, if that was what it was all about, he'd be enough, by himself. Its kind of amazing actually. One normally imagines the man can't possibly keep up--that's no pun--especially since he has to do all the work. But, my self. Its just too much to even think about. Of course, the credit is likely due in no small part to my own self, with whom it is a pleasure for him to be.
I'm putting him on a plane tonight and saying goodbye forever. Its a bit comforting to know that there is a Quentin out there, but even he isn't good enough for me.
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