2003-01-31 - 4:23 p.m.

'a night of heavy eye make-up and heavy drinking'

Sometimes I see the shadows of people in my living room at night. And they're never really enough to scare me, but just enough to make me double-take. And wonder who they belong to and if they care that I'm sad.

Did the whole spring-cleaning thing today, granted it's a little early. But there's nothing quite like an entire Friday afternoon spent cleaning. And switching pictures to different nails. I think maybe part of me is expecting company. Though, I can't say why it might think that. It's probably just the weather. Pretty weather equals prettier boys. Maybe I'm jinxing it by saying it. Maybe there's no such thing as luck. Or superstition. Or coincidence. Or fate. Or any of that. Maybe things just are. Despite what we may or may not think about them.

Because no amount of denying or not thinking about it saved my mom. No amount of 'let's not jinx this by being too hopeful' did any good whatsoever. Maybe things just happen. And it's all random. And no amount of thought, or pretense will change it. Because it's not set somewhere in stone, just as it's not hanging in the air waiting to change.

So, yes, there's probably a part of me expecting company. Driving me to clean clean clean. Because boys can't like girls with filthy bathrooms. And unclean carpets. Boys just can't like girls like that. It's ridiculous. And thankfully that part of me is pretty small and rarely heard. I used to have this school-girl fantasy that the boy I always thought I loved in high school would come knocking. On some random, rainy night looking all defeated and wet. He would just show up out of nowhere and that would be enough for me to know that maybe he could love me too. He never came. And that ended awhile ago. Now, I guess in my head it seems too much like a last resort. And I hate that I'm that girl and pretty much have always been.

It doesn't much matter now anyway, because I don't really exist to him. Lifetimes of looking and I would wager I couldn't be found. But, the boy in Texas has an upper hand. And I both hate and love that. He wouldn't even need to come looking. I'm an apple hanging from a tree, waiting to fall at his feet. And all it would take would be a phone call. And unfortunately, he knows that. So he'll probably never come knocking. Never come looking for the me that's just barely hiding away.

So, it's Friday. And it's another night of heavy eye make-up and heavy drinking. Which is usually more fun than it should be, all things considered. So, it's something. Something to do. To look forward to. Another night out...

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