Dreamless

The spirits didn't follow me last night- they didn't taunt, not so much a murmur. comforting blackness, starless night, massaging my tumbled mind... an ocean ride minus the floating devices. Nothing but my body quivering into the gelatin waves...feeling his touch constantly on me...It rained again this morning, the perfect secondary shade penetrating his apartment walls. Clouding his shadow, as he brought me a latte and a bagel and himself.

I think it could have gone on all day like this but I left. That disgusting trepidation did find a way to cut in and cut the party short, as if self-preservation could account for something at this point. So I took the trip but couldn't let it go indefinitely? Maybe if he doesn't call by a certain time (five hours? Ten? A couple of days?) I'll call him - no, I'll just show up, I'll drum up that bravado for another round and shut up about convention.

It's only been two hours. No surprise. I fucked up once again. What kind of person screws this up?