Kitty Power

CPT

I haven't been able to sustain a real interest in anyone for 2.5 years. I've always been too guarded and disassociated to really feel someone. The downside of that is by being a challenge (on purpose or otherwise), you attract a certain sort of dud. That ego-inflated, self-important blowhard forever trying to impress that always likes you more than you do them yet can't wait to tear you down. Shady, The Continental, Pseudo, The Scenester, the list goes on and on...it's not a New York specific type but they've been running back and forth through my return to the city life and they've left me weary. I was telling PrincessNella earlier how I fell out of fake like over the course of a conversation. Shit happens. Usually since everyone involved is an archetype, in those instances I've adapted the role of the jaded bitch. I'm tired of it all. Really, life is too short to always play.

Despite that, I've been gobsmacked by The Brit. Being in Miami was just a different sort of me and I met him when I had my armor off and my mind open. He left and I let some time pass, but fuck the rules, so I called when I wanted to. And he was right there with me. Ant and PrincessNella marvelled at me doing my little happy jumps across the living room and the strange squees I let escape. I ran the gambit from excitement and anticipation to fear and back and set off to meet.

But, we just couldn't connect. I met up with Faiks and had some fun doing my little dance to some drum n' bass. Then I was off to Sapph for the first time in a good while and shot the shit with my boys. I wished Petur McFizzie, former partner in crime, Cali dwelling but not forgotten, a wonderfully happy birthday. And then I took a plunge and went to where The Brit said he'd be, spending money I'd tucked away to get me through the long week between rent due and getting paid for a party that just wasn't popping.

"You're crazy late, girl," said his brother who I ran into just as I became frustrated.
"You're too late. I'm on my way home," said the boy himself when I got him on the phone.
"You're sorta late," said the brother's girl who I've known for more than a minute.
"Am I really? It's not that late. I really did try but the night's been hectic," I replied exasperated. Shit.

Tomorrow is another day and I actually care enough to follow through. Another crash and burn? Perhaps. A girl can't take the failures too seriously. It's better to have tried and failed than to have never tried at all. Or something.

Posted by Candicissima at April 1, 2005 04:41 AM