the first time I left San Diego, I didn't know what was in store for me here in Seattle. this time leaving I knew full well what house I'd be living in, what air mattress I'd be sleeping on, what work would be like tomorrow, how cold it is at six in the morning, and what it would be like to be alone again. I was not excited at all. even watching the wing flaps open during the landing couldn't fascinate me like it normally does.

let's say I was home again, home in SD. would I be happy? no, but -er. let's say you called me right now and we had another great talk. would that do it? no, but getting warm. let's say I knew you would love to talk to me any time, and I knew I could call and have a quick catch-up or a drawn-out talk about everything and about nothing until we were mumbling with our eyes half open and the sun was coming up, and either way it would be fine. would that do it? maybe. let's say I got to touch you again or hold your hand for one more song in the back seat. am I happy yet? in that moment, just for the time being, I'd be doing great.

but where's the grand slam? I'm pissed I missed free Dennys day btw. what could I have that would allow me to wake up every morning ready to smile because I know things are going right? I've come up with two answers thus far. uno: to know that my love is being accepted and given back just as freely. dos: to know that I'm doing something meaningful with my life, that I'm headed in a directioin instead of just hovering and dicking around like a cloud of flies churning in the air above some poo. I'm starting to think about those two things and wonder if they're actually the same.