Bohemia

Today I was walking around in the bohemian part of town because I had an appointment with the hippie chiro. I was early, and didn't want to sit in his hippie office, so I walked around looking at hippie houses and cars and plants and stuff. It was a beautiful day; the sky was clear and blue, the palm trees green, flowers blooming. And then I realized I had no idea what time it was because I had left my phone at home.

But I hadn't forgotten it. I left it on purpose. Because I'm mad at him for all sorts of reasons, and I didn't want to be there when he called. And I was proud of myself for about 2 seconds, and then I realized, he isn't going to call. I've gone through all this for nothing. Why would he call? He hasn't called for no reason in over a week; I don't really know when he last called just to say hey.

And when I got home I saw I was right. He hadn't called. Big surprise. I sometimes hate being right. But more than that, I hate being forgotten. I hate being unimportant.

When I was at the hippie chiro, there was a brief moment as I was laying on the table that he ran his hand lightly down my back. And I realized how excruciatingly long it's been since a man has touched me gently, or at all. I also realized how much I really want that, how much I miss it, how I'm never gonna get it. The chiro touches me because I pay him to, and it's not like that. Anyway, it's incredibly frustrating to be a human being and have human needs and wants when everyone treats you like you have some sort of communicable disease. I may as well stay at home in a bubble playing Trivial Pursuit with George.