About a boy

I met a boy. And he's pretty cool.

The good news is, we're friends.

Damn.

On Monday we hung out together all afternoon and evening. For hours, his knee touched mine discreetly under the table while a group of us had dinner. He invited me to his apartment afterwards to have some drinks and watch an audition video he taped for a job he's hoping to get. We laughed, we chilled, we touched knees on the couch.

I put my hand on his calf. What a calf! I kept it there to see if he would do or say anything. To see if he would lean in and pull me closer to him. To see if he would just put his hand behind my neck and yank me closer, locking his lips with mine for a kiss that I so want to feel.

On Tuesday we hung out again all afternoon, taking in a movie and then doing some window shopping together. He flirted with me and made me feel like we were on the same wavelength.

The good news is, we're friends.

Damn.

When I saw him Wednesday, I wanted to wrap my arms around him and tell him that he was torturing me with his 3-day stubble, with his sleeveless t-shirt, with his devilish smirk. I wanted to leap into his deep green eyes and swim around for hours and hours, coming up only for the occasional breath of air and to thank God that he let me in.

The good news is, we're friends.

And he's all I can think about.

Suddenly I realize that this touring thing could be a freakin' lonely experience. I look at a few couples and wonder whether there's any chance I'm gonna find someone -- anyone. And I realize that the odds are stacked against me.

And then I get exhausted. Depressed. Sad. And I wonder what I've gotten myself into. I mean, I know that my track record hasn't exactly been sterling in the past, and there are no guarantees that I'd find someone if I were staying put in one place. But I also think I may have shot myself in the relationship foot by coming on tour. Opportunities are just not making themselves obvious.

Yes, joining the circus was the right thing to do. I'm just so fucking sick of being lonely. And telling myself, "It will happen when it's supposed to happen" is getting really old.