Recluse

The one thing that we yearn for in our living days,
that makes us sigh and groan and undergo sweet nauseas of all kinds,
is the remembrance of some lost bliss
that was probably experienced in the womb
and can only be reproduced (though we hate to admit it)
in death.
-Jack Kerouac "On The Road"

I posited myself four two whole days in the four-walled enclosure that I've been calling home for the past 10 months. It's not as if I planned to. I had plans that fell through and I had places that I didn't feel like going to at the last minute.

I just watched Alias on DVD, one episode after the other.

There were people that dropped by which forced me to go out and forage for food and when they left I continued watching Alias.

I watched and waited.

And waiting is an agony on its own.

And to be with him means I would have to get used to waiting while treacherous ghosts and pangs of irrational jealousy danced cruelly in my head.

I don't want it to be that way.

I don't want to get used to his embrace only to feel suffocated once I'm given the space.

There must be something that I can still claim for myself.