i'm a fuck up, too.

and there's this nice big part of me that really wishes i had someone, here, to share everything with.

it's stupid, it's dangerous, but damn if i don't believe that coming home to someone i could talk to would make things much easier and much better.

like tonight, for instance.

jim, my kind of boss, is talking to me about promoting myself either within this company or outside of it.

within 4 months i could get a nice promotion, i think. give or take a month or so.

4 months.

in 5 months things will be changing. in that time i could have a career on my hands.

and imagine if i had someone to come home to to share this news with? someone here to kind of let my excitement rub off on. someone to be happy for me. someone to laugh at me grinning like the damn fool i am.

and if there was someone here, i wouldn't have spent so long at work. which means i wouldn't have gotten into an argument with kim. again. which means i wouldn't have come home, angry upset tired and feeling worthless, to this empty bed. to this empty feeling.

to knowing there's no one here.

and yet theres a part of me that wants this emptiness. if i could have it, if i could completely cut everyone out of my life, including kim, i could leave.

i could disappear.

i could just exist on opening the door and watching the sunset and work at taco bell to pay rent instead of worrying about careers and moving and hearts.

and, of course, i think of emily. think of calling her, but i can't because she's in missouri, unreachable, asleep.

think of sleeping with her.

think of looking at her across a table as she just looks at me the way she used to, when she knew i was hurting and wanted to help but knew i had to fix it myself.

and soon, but not soon enough, i'll see emily.

and i dont know what'll happen.

but i know a hug will be involved.

there's got to be a hug.

because i could sure as hell use one these days.