Lonesome.

[icebluenothing]

So besides laundy, my only big adventure today was to go out and try to track down a bottle of the new vanilla Coke. I had to go to four different goddamn grocery stores before I found any. Final verdict: it's pretty tasty. It's not my very favorite best new thing in the world ever, but I'm sure I'll be drinking it again in the future.

Other than that -- not much going on for me today. I don't see treebyleaf today, and I feel slightly adrift and not much sure I see the point of living through a day that doesn't have her in it. I find myself feeling that way quite often, I'm afraid. Today the feeling is especially keen, because we had such a lousy time when she was here Tuesday night -- our individual defense mechanisms and neuroses have a way, sometimes, of setting each other off in a tight downward chain-reaction spiral -- and because she's leaving again; Flight 562, departing 11:47AM tomorrow for San Diego, and returning on Flight 529, arriving 5:49PM on Monday. This time, I don't get to go with her to the airport; this time, I don't even get to see her the night before.

I have no plans to see anyone else today, either. I've thought of going out to Midian tonight, but I don't know if anyone else I know will be going, and I don't really know if I could go to an all-ages club night without feeling like Humbert Humbert. So. I may not go anywhere.

Earlier, I kept hearing music coming from somewhere; a melancholy piano. I came back in from the laundry room and realized that the tune I was hearing was familiar -- Nickelback's "How You Remind Me," made strangely poignant. I opened my bedroom window and could hear it clearly, and hear someone singing. I sat on my windowsill to listen and quietly sing along; quietly, in case the unseen singer thought I was making fun of him. I balanced carefully on the windowsill, something I've never done before, I'm too afraid of heights, and I wondered how many others go their whole lives singing quietly for fear the music will stop.