The weekend floated and fell

This morning I cut myself while shaving. It’s been bleeding ever since. Every

once in a while I need to replace the torn sheet of tissue paper with a new one to prevent a bubble of dried blood to form on my left, upper lip. That’s about how the weekend went as well. Sat around, paid bills, cleaned, slept. Payam found out he has mono; I’m still getting over the coughing and sore throatness of the asthmatic bronchitis, and I’m regretting things. I’m thinking about where I am right now and why I’m incapable of being happy. Why people, and myself, deem it necessary to try to force me into relationships. Is there a void that needs to be filled with someone new already, or does the imprint remain fresh as the sag on the right side of my bed? I may just need some more time to feel things out.

Friday ended by celebrating Ray’s birth. Before that we went to a Fireside in

Colleyville and saw The Island at Grapevine Mills with Vafa and Ray’s cousins. We ended up talking on the way to the movie about what happened with the last person I was “interested in.” About how I never really was interested and how I projected a completely different person on her; how much I missed someone. It’s just a tricky situation; nothing to be taken as lightly as a whether or not to watch the game, go to the movie or have shredded cheese on a Caesar salad. It’s like asthma; taking deep breaths before you’re ready to do so, leaving you choking and coughing, sputtering out like on an oil slick. Because I’m not ready, and I’m not sure I know when I will be. Right now, it’s been 6 months and all I think about as how comfortable I was 8 or more months ago. Standing next to a hospital bed, making sure that you’ve fallen asleep before I could let go of your hand and follow people to where I would be staying. Providing the comfort that you provided to me.

I guess I’m just tacky and unnecessarily standing in the wind or rain or

whatever trying to figure myself out before I can breathe rightly again.