indiana

I am remembering now what it is like to be alone: second guessing everything I do, feeling guilty about the little things. But perhaps we should feel guilty about the little things. Perhaps I have become a worse person because I've stopped feeling guilty about those things.
The apartment is empty and I can only think about myself or the furniture, my future, my relationships, where I should buy a bookcase and if I should buy a bookcase. Maybe that is why people make good poets at this age, they are so internally focused they can't help but express well all their narcissistic angst. It will be good to grow older, I think, to outgrow this phase. But it is hard when life starts over every two years, and I feel like I am at the same place I was two years ago, always saying the wrong thing and becoming increasingly lonely.
But it is nice, also, to be back where I was, to feel the same as I once felt. It's like things haven't changed, although they've changed drastically. Maybe some people don't deal well with happiness, just like some don't deal well with sadness. I don't even know why I am sad, except that the future is uncertain and I am missing people a lot right now.
But I will see you soon, Liz, and Doug and Hanna even more soon.
I got pillows in the mail today, four of them, for the four of us. YAY. We can play euchre too, and spades, and many other four-person games. I have four wine glasses and four bowls and four big plates and four little plates and four matching mugs. I also have four big spoons and four little spoons and four big forks and four little forks and four knives. I have four cigarettes left in my pack and I have four decks of cards and Soda has four legs.
Now I am HAPPY!