date with myself
This evening I thoroughly enjoyed my own company. Maybe I wasn’t ready for a date. Maybe my guest read my blog about it being my first date? Maybe I’m going about this the wrong way. Or maybe things just didn’t work out as planned. Who knows? I got a text message just as I sat down at my table. What a way to go, but I didn’t let it get to me.
I enjoyed my food, a glass of wine, a sweet dessert and a hot little cup of Turkish coffee. Beforehand, I sat for about 2 hours in Central Park writing about my experience this weekend, trying to explain it all but having a rough time with the details. I almost don’t want to write too much about it, as if it would become just a story or a dream if I were to write what exactly happened. I wrote about my muses who guided me. I wrote about my struggle to push past the wall that I bumped into. I wrote about the immensity. It was a nice afternoon. I’ve found my way around Manhattan with not a wink of trouble, even when I’m not quite sure where I’m goingr.
And since I’m all dressed up and nowhere to go, I think I’m going to make my way over to one of the gay bars in town. After a bit of a rest, of course. Maybe I’ll read some more of my homework…