missing him, missing myself...

i keep the windows shut, as much to keep the world out as to keep his smell in. the apartment, exactly as he left it, is slightly dusty, particles of dirt from the building site down the road somehow finding their way inside. its only been two weeks, but as i sit here in his space, i feel lonely.

why i long for someone so desperately, why i cannot be happy in my own company - this strikes me as both odd and tragic. indeed, the tragedy is laudable, as are my promises never to attach myself so physically and emotionally irredeemably, to someone else. i am not a limpet. and yet, as i sit here, looking at the eclectic mix of frequent flyer paraphernalia, usb keys and rollie papers on his coffee table, my body longs for him with a passionate pain that shocks me - i hadn't realised i'd fallen so hard for him till now.

part of my brain finally switches into gear and asks the inevitable 'why?'. i can't answer it. he's a beautiful boy, true, but how on earth he makes me feel this way and why i long for him so badly are questions to which the answers belong in a mystical land just like elves, gremlins and eskimos.

i open his fridge, and suddenly i grin. half an avocado, gone hard enough to break a window, languishes next to sour cream expiring over a month ago. tomatoes (at least, red furry blobs that smell like italian corpses) canker along with a leathery lettuce and another avocado that, when poked, oozes a mystery substance that looks like it belongs in a diaper.

i explore, relishing the freedom to poke into corners of his life i've not seen before. there isn't much i haven't - he's not a hoarder like me. its minimalistic - the random old cards and mail, a set of mint coins to celebrate his graduation. i didn't realise he graduated with honours. i feel so stupid. i should be studying. damn this blog.

as i give up, and go to bed in his unwashed sheets dressed in one of his shirts, i read his last sms again and a smile creeps onto my face. its nice to be in love.