Counting

I know I should already be sleeping but I have the itch to write... it's always best to just accept it than fight it off and lay awake. I've been feeling a lot like the me of my youth, the one that was always lost in a book, enthralled with another world because I didn't care too much for mine. Major difference is that this past week though instead of books it's been webcomics. I'm now thoroughly invested in seven different worlds that update on a different day of the week, I wanted to give myself something to look forward to every day. I really can't tell if that line of thinking is something to be worried about...

My twin has finally come around to recognizing this program I found is his best shot at rebooting his life, however since we were out of state recently, they're not accepting him until he can provide documentation he's coronavirus free... apparently nothing can be easy. I barely worked last week and I really don't want to use PTO... I hoped to get some work done this weekend but Saturday was spent participating in an international dance party on zoom which was awesome, and then waiting to find out if the center was going to let him in, and when that fell through, my more than a friend brought over Chinese and we watched Onward together. He really has become my person over this past month and it's starting to make me worried. I really don't think I'd survive if one more person decided I'm good for fun, but nothing more.

It already feels like it's more but I truly don't know...I hoped to get some work done today but I've ended up being sad and mopey a good portion of the day. I've been frustrated that my experiences with others are causing me to doubt the intentions of someone who has been nothing but kind to me since the moment we met. I find myself hoping that should things not become more that he will not choose to ignore my existence too... it's something awful when someone you care deeply for looks through you like you're glass. However for the first time I've found myself hoping that things really are done with the man because every time the last three years I've started to find just a little bit of happiness, he has always popped back in. I had once prayed that we would find our way back to friendship but honestly this last year he never treated me with any semblance of kindness and I'd be a fool to give any more of my energy to someone who clearly doesn't care for my well being.  I was scrolling through my notes just before starting this entry and found this poem of sorts I don't even remember writing but apparently I did some time in early 2019.

"Everything Dies"

You hold me close during stolen time. You fuck me hard but then slow. Your eyes are bright with desire but sometimes I'll see a flash of love. It was love once, years ago. It's something different now, something deep but not the same.  I can't remember the last time I heard you call me beautiful. I can't recall the last time you did something nice for me just to see me smile. It used to feel special, but I guess everything dies if you stop feeding it.

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I'm still counting the days it's been since I last touched him, since I last saw his face, since I last reached out. I really hope soon I won't feel the need to keep counting because that will mean I've truly stopped waiting for the man to come back.