Little Bit

Drinks. Del Mar. If one were looking at my life from the outside, they might think that I have it pretty good. I can go out, have fun with my roommate, then have fun down the street with my neighbors. Drinking wine the whole time. Getting off work early.

But really, thank god my roommate didn't have something better to do tonight, because if she had, there is a good chance I would have cracked. Called him, the person I swore I wouldn't. It seems that my life boils down to mere chance in the end, rather than choice. I don't choose anything. I just stumble upon things.

I wish I could call him. I miss him. I'm trying not to, with my cynical reaction to anything male and my declaration that being single is great. I hate it. I don't want to be single. I want to be with him. But no one else. So I guess since I know I will never be good enough for him, I would rather be single, so it's not completely false. It's a little bit true. And a little bit strange.

I wish I were a little bit happy.