Picky

Going out jeans.

There’s a particular kind of loneliness, and the most interesting thing about it is that I don’t think it will ever go away. I’ve just observed this thing about it. There is a brand of loneliness that pertains to being known. Having a relationship doesn’t crack it; no amount of family, friends, lovers, or peers can shine a light on it. Hell, my dog can only chip at the corners. 

I used to drive my car along Route 66 in Oklahoma and find a place to park out in the country. I would sit in my car and scream. Who could understand this? I wrote: wild-tame animal in the car. Meaning myself, all those years ago, not so different from me now. Sitting in bed, texting a boy that wants me but not the way I want to be wanted. I went out with my friends last night, dancing. Today I want to scream from loneliness. 

One time, a boy picked me up in a classic Cadillac. It was my favorite color; he borrowed it from his uncle and drove almost six hours total to bring it to me. I told him I hadn’t been to prom and he took me dancing. He kissed me and I ran away. I told myself he was too short. 

From ashes to ashes and dust to dust. It’s grimy to be a person. Grit, rough edges, mud. I didn’t want him to see any of that, Cadillac boy. 

Out dancing, last night, the bar closed at 2 a.m. We planned on leaving at 1 a.m., like most people probably did. My friends and I were on the stage, watching the crowd. Men I had been watching all night started to filter through the crowd, finding the girls they had been watching all night. An exchange, a dance together, then a kiss, then home and to bed together. One of them came up to me, I was his fifth try. 

It’s not that easy, and they can tell. You don’t go up to the girl with her heart on her sleeve for one night. Maybe you don’t ever go up to her; she means business. Last night, I gave that random guy my number. He FaceTimed me at like 4 a.m. and I blocked him. I don’t know what I was thinking, I just wanted it to be a little easier for once. 

Wanting to be loved is not the same as loving. I think I would be able to return the favor, if it happened that way. It would be nice to take, for a while. It would probably kill me.