2004-11-05 - 10:58 AM

Day 4... 5? These things are difficult to keep track of for people who have bitter post-breakup relationships with sunlight. You know, the 'I avoid you, you avoid me, we just get on with our lives' type of thing.
Thursday, for two classes, I was rolling the stressball around in my hand, and pounding through toothpicks. It wasn't even a craving thing, cravings are short intense bursts of need. This was more a dull ache of want.
About 6 hours later, I was talking with Jerome about our impending visit next weekend, and Nikki says something about me being all cranky lately. I meant to suggest that this was akin to throwing stones in glass houses, she'd been... biologically biased... in the grouchy direction lately. But it came out more like,
"Yeah, you've been sunshine and fucking daisies lately." Then I realized I was still on the phone.
"Jerome? I gotta go. I think I need to go find my inner child or something."
"You're probably going to kick his ass."
"Yeah. But he might have it comin'."
"Later Tiger."
I came to the conclusion that I was attempting something akin to cold turkey, and this was bad. Other people were paying for my crabbiness. So Nikki went to 7-11 and bought herself a pack of cigarettes, promising to pick a type that I personally hate (Marlborough Lights. Ass.) to make it a little easier... And I had one. I think I'm going to do what I did last time, when it stuck for a couple months. Spend a week just holding out until I'm in agony, stretch it out, then have one on the road home on Thursday, maybe have one on the playground if the moment calls for it. It's a lot easier when the last cigarette means something, holds a memory, gives some sort of odd sense of closure.
On the other hand, there's a possibility I've been thinking about this too much.
I go back to Santa Barbara in a week. That's really neat. I'm all about crashing on Jerome and Billy's floor, and seeing them, and Heather, and everything being right in my world. We're going to be there on the second Saturday of the month, which means we get to see the drum circle again. I get to puddlestomp the pacific again. I... I don't think my house is there anymore. Or at least not owned by my family anymore. And that's really sad. But it doesn't change the fact that I'm going home again.
Bullshit you can't go home again.
-Alex

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