Indecision

it was like i hadn't gone to bed; it was like we'd never moved. the basement felt comfortable, probably. she was on the couch doing something and so was i, but something else, trying to be distracted, not focus in on her so much... people started going to bed, her ex was already asleep in the next room, and she was supposed to be coming in and staying quietly and leaving before morning. the room went quiet, everyone sprawled out on couches and either asleep or silently pretending to be. she got up, creeped past me, and lightly knocked on his door.

i couldn't believe it. goddammit, don't do this to him, yourself, or me! i want you... i'm the one who's supposed to be patient, sure, but i couldn't stand the idea of you crawling back to him after he dumped you, just because you were drunk and lonely and happened to be in his house. my house too, girl; i would've given you a place to sleep...

she knocked, and i poked her in the side; she didn't respond, knocked again, and i just starting poking her in the ribs, hard, jabbing my finger into those gorgeous hips, but she wouldn't notice me, refused to or some such, and when she didn't get an answer she just opened the door and slipped inside.

i started punching the couch, all useless fury. i knew at this point, by realizing who was in the room observing me and that i of course no longer lived in that particular basement, that i was dreaming; i kept punching, knowing that enough emotion would break down these walls, bring me back home where if i spoke she'd at least listen, if i asked she'd at least answer, and there's no goddamn way she wants to see that asshole again.

she was here, tonight, but he was out of town; it was the third or fourth time she'd come over since their breakup, either to buy weed or retrieve lost gloves or smoke me out for my birthday. apparently she gave our pipe some lovin', practically deepthroating the thing. is she that starved for attention, already? but i'd feel like such a scumbag, moving in and being all, hey, i know you just broke up with the guy whose bedroom shares a wall with mine, but i've heard how he makes you scream and i think i could do that for you too! uhhhh. god no. gotta wait, gotta wait, gotta allow distance but not too damn much, too many good girls have dropped ties and moved away, out of reach... damn this city...

and damn my indecision.