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whooo is the human
"Cherry Tree" by The National
Don't look at me,
I'm only breathing
Don't look at me, I'm indiscreet
October 18, 2017 Thursday 12:05 AM
I am just. I am just. How about this: I am not allowed to think about love anymore. It's a wound that I keep poking at, so of course it'll never close. It'll just get swollen with infection or somethin', turn into gangrene. So no more thinking through the frame of what I think it is, because that can wreck things. Can wreck the lack of expectations I have cultivated when seeking platonic companionship.
Last night I had a dream. It came after some other nightmares, and it was an offshoot of the same plot. I was home for a week—I'd left college because I "needed a break." (I don't actually feel like I need a break yet). When I returned, my family was not the same. We lived in a smaller, unfamiliar home, and my sister was virtually nowhere to be found and my parents were, like, evil criminals or something. I was forced to become involve in some of their hijinks and I think I tried to call the police on them??
At some point, I wandered off into the woods where I stumbled upon Isaac in his old, red jacket (he always used to tell me about how it was his grandfather's, and how he likes owning things with a "history." And I didn't really like this—it betrayed what I considered to be irrational sentimentality and it bordered on sappy. But I did really like that jacket). Isaac said, "Hello," and I was surprised when he wasn't angry.
He told me, "Just so you know, I don't like you like that anymore, so if you're here for that..."
Which is when I realized I had been searching for him. I said, "Well, I was looking for you for that reason [and here it is implied that I miss him in that way?] but I also just wanted to see how you were doing and stuff. As a friend."
He was like, "A'ight," and we walked through the woods together and it wasn't weird. It felt a little cold. He didn't try to be close to me—there was nothing at all to indicate anything besides amiable indifference towards me. And that should be good, but in my dreams, I tend to crave love and so I was the one who graced him with, like, unnecessary touches. I sort of did that in real life too, actually. I was always the one, but only because Isaac was too nice or too reserved to make the first move.
Back in what I guess was his apartment, we laid on the floor, Isaac on his back with his hands behind his head. We talked about TV shows and movies, which is kind of what we did in real life. The tail end of the conversation involved my hands on his stomach, referencing a TV show that I don't think exists in reality. "It's a knock off of The Middle which is a knock off of Malcolm in the Middle," I remember saying.
And then Isaac told me he'd never seen Malcolm in the Middle, even though I know for a fact that he has.
But I accepted it and was like, "it's a good show," and that was the very mundane end to an overall mundane dream. It really affected me, though—I just wanted to get back to sleep all morning, to get back to that warm place where I felt like I had someone to love me without any sort of repercussions. I actually did end up napping for four hours starting at noon, which was sort of sickening and Not Worth.
Fuck I have to go to sleep.
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