singularity

after just another short period of time I find my things stowed away, and my thoughts roaming.

glass of pinot noir on a u-haul box, I’m packing up my shit and hauling elsewhere, alone.

but, isn’t that a funny word? I keep hearing in the depths of my brain ‘you’re alone now, all alone’ but what does that even look like? in a city with 1,000,000 or more people, are we ever really alone?

because i’ve picked up my phone and found some fellow lonely souls. they all want me to not be alone with them.

and, in a way, how dare I say i’m alone? i’ve been with more friends in the past week than I had been in my entire relationship… each one of them proving that they are solidly there for me no matter who i’m with.

in this split, I immediately thought ‘i’ll lose all my friends’ but why does my mind have to go there? maybe its a BPD thing. its definitely a BPD thing. but who could blame me for my BPD spiking right now? I have a bed to lay on, this space isn’t mine anymore, and i’m the one leaving. that would be uncomfortable for even a neurotypical.

and I hold no resentment. I dont hold a lot of feelings lately, but the reason I put my fingers on the keyboard tonight is because the need for ‘single reckless behaviour’ is creeping in heavy, and the mania is setting in. the boredom. the anger. I remember this feeling from living in the last basement I was in, sitting on the couch yelling at no one that I had nothing to do. no one to do. alone, there’s that word again.

even in my dear downtown, which I am leaving soon and i’m sure it wont make a difference, seems like a vast wasteland in which theres nothing to be done. listen to music. drink wine. touch myself. stay, stay, stay in bed. theres boxes on the desk anyway.

but perhaps this is a good thing, because I feel like every human interaction I have now is electrifying. every brush, every stolen glance, every blurry night. its all part of this magical spell they call freedom, I suppose. a facade of the highest regard, but i’ll live in blissful ignorance.

its a bittersweet feeling, to say the least, and I try not to get too caught up on the memories. stuck in limbo in a shared space with someone i’ve had so much history with, no more. but my futures looking better everyday. im moving in with my best friend, and I can’t wait for that feminine energy. I need it. going to retreat to the basement again, to lick my wounds, not that they haven’t started to heal over. when did I sustain these wounds? it feels like a lifetime ago.

and i’m sorry. for perhaps being reckless with a heart or two. but we sustained all casualties and i’d call that a win in my books. everyone goes home and sleeps at night. ive heard you laughing in the other room, you’re gonna be alright. i’m gonna be alright. thats the first time ive said that since the breakup.

and yes, my brain has been quite hedonistic in the recent weeks, and ive become greedy with artificial love. when I dont get it, such as a night like this, I feel my skin crawling. I feel myself going back to that 5am place that I haven’t visited in so long. it beckons, and I am getting closer.

should I stray or should I go?

this I will come to decide.

but for now, i’ll wait for the movers to come take me away

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