wretched

i wonder if i’m tired of women. (who wonders what they wonder?) i mean. i know a lot of them. enough of them. enough for me. enough for anybody. and yet…we are a fascinating bunch. as well as we are maddening. myself included. myself definitely, included. and so what? men are a special breed too. (could there ever be a third?) but the women i know, who i have not been talking to much, no doubt, because there is a man in my life, let my mother or any other of them tell it. what they do not, maybe, need not know is that he is not here–not in the way a girl would want, or would need, or desire. yeah. i suffer through it… the distance is not easy; i wouldn’t recommend it. but then again, some things are worth the wait, no? and yet, i wonder (somewhere in me – wtf am i doing?) (doing what i want and feel, which is how i’m destined to live, i see, by now…)… there are no right answers, only time ticking, and every last one of us passing the time until… how i choose to spend mine is in love, lust, companionship…familiar. real. completely. me, as lover, with one… not much different than many, (if not all?), women out (t)here. and yet… my distinction… he asks for it all, and i give it, yet– (…open-ended here; why not?)

back to the women. a woman sent me a text message last week saying simply, “i don’t have hpv.” another woman contacted me and let me know that she was depressed, and won’t i come to a women’s health fair in my hometown with her and the girls. one woman faces the cancer i once faced behind a damaged cervix. another woman called me, from an unrecognized number – why won’t i call her back? she’s called four times and what does she need to do, “email” me? well, i thought that was a fine idea. i replied, via text, actually, yes. that would be the best way to reach me. not big on the phone these days. etc. etc. i didn’t respond to the non-hpv carrier, and i told the other woman, i didn’t feel like forking over $27 to hear a survivor of domestice violence speak. (i blend stories here, i admit…) and the woman with the non-cancer? well, we handled all of that on facebook.

i need to know more ppl who know txt shrthnd. tired of spelling it all out. but then again, i lie. i barely spell it out, so what the hell… i am so tired, i think, because things are, actually, getting boring. there is music, yes, and there is wine, and there is also him (jesus), who is not here and so, yes, bury thyself in things more productive, more conducive to accomplishing thy goals… ok. and what of wretched celibacy?