Touch Me
Oh jolly. I'm as predictable as the calendar. I can feel the inevitable cranks creeping up on me. They're still a ways off in the distance, but they're en route. Irritability, impatience, anger. And the big bad one I hate so much: Self Pity. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck, it's so tedious. I choke on the words when I try to rationalize my feelings. I do NOT want to be alone much longer in this life. I
crave physical contact. When a coworker pokes me in the arm, I melt. I want more. When somebody rests their hand on my back for a moment of pause, I am putty in their fingers.
You might laugh, but it brings tears to my eyes.
I'm so sick as fuck of being lonely.
Give me ten days. This too shall pass, until next time.
