so it's hard not to feel lonely when i miss all the simple things. all the things you do with someone; you know, when they are your someone. the comfortable silences; long afternoons; laying in bed for zero reasons. grocery shopping, and meal planning and boring stuff like that which becomes immediately better because you are sharing it. and it's stupid that you become excited to make pizza together and talk about your stupid day. but really, its not that stupid. life is better with your someone. it's so much fucking better. hosting a party. theme-ing the hell out of that shit, and drinking your lovely faces off; while your friends tell you about how great your themed party is. even if its a crummy theme, everyone would smile their cheeks sore and go home happy. cleaning the house with your someone the next day would still be wonderful... even with splitting hangovers. folding someone's laundry- just because you can. because you show your love in your labours. because just touching their cottony shirt seems to bring you closer to them. how i miss that lovely, blissful therapy. stupid. cooking for someone. regardless of whether they have the same dietary discretions, or tastes, or hate onions or that sauce that you put on everything... but i miss that pride that i had in providing. empty meals with loads of lonely leftovers: consumed han solo. usually during an episode of veronica mars, or during a chapter of a book. laughing together while doing the dishes. wwiii: suds and cloths. rock-paper-scissors, who dries. fuck that, i'm not drying. someone, you dry. long, perfect, dusky walks with my hound and someone. good lord, please let there be no mosquitoes involved. completing entire TV series in marathons on lazy, rainy days. someone picked last time, so it's your turn. okay, so someone doesn't like your suggestion, try again. seen it. seen it. okay, so someone picks again, but you honestly could care less because you haven't seen it either. but really, its because you're with someone. i miss it all, i guess. and it's strange and foreign and sits in my throat and my guts. this tumor of unknown origin that seems to have worked its way from my ventricles and atrium to my brain- incapacitating my once steadfast, stubbornly autonomous mind. someone.
