Can an umbrella dropped in Washington, DC somehow be noticed in Los Angeles?
I swear to God, kid, it was almost like back when I was your girlfriend. When you used to just show up early in the morning and sit on my bed with your weird energy and unspoken confessions.
It wasn't a big deal. She came by around six. I woke up when she sat on the bed. It was just starting to get light outside. You could see it thorugh the heavy curtain. She had been up all night doing God knows what and I don't care, because she was on my bed at six, telling me about her new job, asking me for poetry, pretending not to notice my erection under the sheet. Within fifteen minutes she was gone, the heavy curtain falling behind as she moved off, looking for breakfast, as if she were in an entirely different time zone.
Remember when it was like that? Remember when convenience was never an obstacle to emotional necessity? Remember when I would scream and yell about not feeling needed, all the while you were showing up like this? Funny, isn't it?
It was nice that she came by. It made me feel that I had talents that were mine and mine alone, and that they had been noticed by others. I felt indisensible. It was nice. Lately, I had felt a tad dispensible. Like no one might ever creep in my window again. Y'know?