I enjoy being told I'm beautiful.
Even better, I enjoy being told
I'm beautiful when my guard is
down, my hair is up, and I'm
not concerned with saying it
I enjoy being told I'm feisty,
a pistol, that I do what I want.
Because those things are true.
Last night, I called up a friend of mine because I reeeeallly didn't want to go see a movie alone because it was Saturday night and you know how the movies are on Saturday nights; they just make you feel alone.
So, I called up a friend of mine. Who, okay, isn't really just a friend of mine. He's one of those men who you've spent hours lying on the living room floor beside, talking about minimalistic architecture and Frank Lloyd Wright. A person you meant to kiss, but didn't mean to feel anything after doing so. Well, anyway, I called one of those. Because my original plans fell through. But also and mostly because I think I was lonely. And I do stupid things when I'm lonely.
Like call up an old friend of mine who is no good for me at all, and let him tell me he was thinking of me last night. That he almost made the very same phone call, too. I let him tell me that he missed me because there's more in my head than E! News. That I'm intelligent and stunning. I'm worth spending Saturday evenings with. And then, I let him hang up the phone before I had the chance to say nevermind and even though you're busy tonight, don't call me next week because I don't really want you, I just like hearing you tell me I'm beautiful.
Because I do stupid things when I'm lonely.
And anyway, I went to the movie by myself.