15 September 2009

Fuck


Just back from the Mexican Independence Day party, which was terrific right up until the point where I discovered my phone and keys had vanished from my jacket pocket. Did someone steal them? The phone, maybe, but the keys are no good to anyone. So I have to go back to the club tomorrow and check. I love my phone, so I hope they have that, too. It's irritating, as I have a VERY limited amount of emergency money, and I don't really want to spend it on a new phone (I was saving it to buy Christmas presents).

Actually, I'm very upset.

Anyway, my friend M.O. and my FTT and his CG (charming girlfriend) were all there, and they very kindly walked home with me. It was nice, but it's funny the things that strike home when you're single. My FTT and his CG were play-arguing in Spanish, and when he was trying to get her to agree with him he'd say, "Pero no, amor, blah blah blah..." I don't want my FTT to call me "amor," and I don't begrudge him calling his girlfriend that, but it was a poignant reminder to me that no one calls me that. Not that anyone Anglo-Saxon is ever going to call me that anyway, of course. But to listen to someone call someone that as if it were her name, and so obviously with natural tenderness, is a small sorrow.

I know I've talked about this before, but I think this is the worst thing about being single: there is no sense that you're supported on a day-to-day basis. Friends support me, of course, but not in the same way. There's no one to sit on the bed and chat while you unbind your hair; there's no one to guess that you need your hand held even if you don't look like you do, and there's no one to do that hand-holding in a permanent way (anyone who held my hand would get up and go home at the end of it). And it's funny: Dr. Higher, with one exception, was not supportive, and Mr. Fallen, although potentially so, was not in my life enough to be so. Which means that one way and another I've been without a person to metaphorically call me "amor" for about ten years - the last 1.5, the six months before that, the five years with Dr. Higher, and the 2.5 years of singletude before that.

Anyway, I lost my phone, and my keys, and my tarjeta de universidad. But I had a great time dancing away, and earlier today I was thinking how lovely it is to have friends.

And that's okay.

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