Oh God, Am I?

You, Who Are An Argument For Not Being Alone

The man who works upstairs from the shop where i chronicle the end of civil discourse tells me that i am the nicest person who works in this building . The woman who hosts the poetry reading where i bartend tells the audience that i am an asshole . winks without using her eyes . that she only likes one of the two of us tending bar . In a year i will remember only one of these events

Three of my exes . men who love men . men without jobs . men without jobs who love men with jobs . post classist memes in support of politicians who hate them for four different dehumanizing reasons . only one is envy .  I wonder . does someone have to be stupid to love me . or just lack self awareness

When my closest friends moved away . i stopped drinking alone . stopped enjoying the company of those who drank alone with me . lost other bartenders’ phone numbers . stopped drinking with other bartenders . stopped exploiting free drinks . stopped going to parties with my alcoholic friends . All my friends are alcoholics . some in recovery . most not yet or ever

When my closest alcoholics moved away . i stopped drinking alone . i stopped mostly drinking . i did not stop being alone

I do not miss drinking . or you . very much . when i am not alone . I do not miss the awareness of my body . the not tripping over sidewalks or tongues or you or your friends or myself or stairs or the light fantastic or whatever obstacles i placed in my own path and blamed someone else for . I do not miss listening to dull strangers in poorly lit rooms . I do not miss my friends being strangers

You tell me about your loneliness . how it tastes the same no matter which continent you land on . how it waves goodbye when your new strangers invite you out for drinks . but then . there it is waiting for you at the bar . already tipsy and calling your name

Oh god . am i your loneliness

Sometimes . when i am home and everyone else is away . i call your name without touching any part of myself . but usually i forget that you exist 

Maybe we are each other’s . loneliness

My worst ex . wrecking ball . pluto . defective tube in a neon sign . fictional land i once believed home . keeps finding work and lovers like they are pennies . and he lives in a fountain at the center of a naive village 

I wish he were lonelier than us

Ugh . lonely . Destitute of companionship . isolated . even when surrounded by people . society . a raft of hands . Lonely . The condition of self-exile . The song on everyone’s lips when the lights go out unexpectedly . The most common word in a realist’s vocabulary . A drink with no recipe . You when we met . Me when we met . Us when we were together . A nuptial ponzi scheme . A rent to own lifestyle

How were we ever any of this without each other

The woman who lives across the street . invites me to dinner with her terrible nephew . tells me we have a lot in common . 

You call while i am inventing a reason to stay home . you do not say anything memorable . do not give me a reason to do anything but stay same as i ever am . do not offer company or conversation . just a steady stream of how awful the world is without . each other