Yesterday morning was bright and sunny and I dragged myself over the river to a hotel, where I said goodbye to one of my dearest friends. We both have cold dark hearts so there were no tears shed, at least not publicly. Though later on the boat I built a fire and listened to music he gave me and felt quite catastrophically sad. I am not a naturally friendly person; it takes extraordinary effort for me to participate in simple social endeavors.
Instead I always choose the big, difficult, brilliant, exhilarating, and treacherous options. I like to perform, I like to throw feasts, I like to be surrounded by intense love. He asked when I will be back in Seattle and the honest answer is not until next summer, maybe not even then.
I have been invited to Budapest and Brazil and and and…. I really do want to lay around Capitol Hill apartments watching movies, and drink champagne in fancy restaurants with Mark Mitchell, and stand at Laura’s karaoke altar laughing as she tells me she has no sympathy for my problems.
The most significant of which is the fact that I love people scattered across the face of the earth. This has been a year of departures and change; I seem to be the sort of person who is always leaving something or someone behind.
Goodbye is my permanent state.