Buckhead Bound

I took Remy ice skating on the pier. It was pretty cool. It wasn't too busy so there was room to skate freely. I love skating. There's something so freeing about it. I felt that Remy and I should have some fun and make some memories before I return home. Deep inside of him, I find validation. I can satisfy and I am worthy, I think. My horoscope this morning says I’m drawn to extreme types who lack intimacy. I don't know what to think of that. I have to tell Remy that I'm going to dinner tomorrow at my cousin's house without him... I have a way with words but it stings no less. He tries to act nonchalant but I can tell he's upset. I feel like if the shoes were on the other foot I would be hurt. I wouldn't put up with it but then he again he doesn't. He may not be confrontational in person but via text, he has no resistance to sharing exactly what it is he wants. Again another moment in my life that I wish phones did not exist. Or not texting at least. The next afternoon I'm on the next train to the city. At my cousin's loft in Cobble Hill I great everyone. It's nice to see familiar faces in the sense they all look like me or I look like them. I get a text from Thomas... he says he's leaving his spouse. I can see his AMG outside my window in my memories. I'm not sure why he's telling me this. My uncle comes around the corner and scares the daylights out of me. Why does he look homeless? It’s quite exhausting to feel like somewhat of an enabler. all these years for not demanding better. From the outside looking in it's as if he’s manifesting his homeless identity. I worry that it's hereditary... I just watched a documentary about royal bloodlines and the hereditary psychosis that was passed on in the house of Habsburg. My mom whispers "You know mental runs in the family" Yikes. It’s 12:32 and I wake up to a loud bang at the door that rattles my small studio apartment. Then feet scurry away. Confused more than afraid I want to open the door to see what happened but I know better than that. I have to leave this place. This view. These beautiful windows. My apartment with Remy in New York had worse neighbors but the view and the size and the beach made it worth it here. This place is nothing more than the windows. I hate the lobby come to think of it. I can tell this old third-floor walk-up was either a school or a crazy house, either way, I want out. Depression is a real-life monster that I have unfortunately had to encounter more times than I would like to confess. I feel a loss so deep that it goes back to my childhood. I can remember so vividly walking home from primary school in Durham, North Carolina picking dandelions and wishing for "happiness." A product of what I wonder. I haven't heard from Nola in a while. my mom keeps asking how my father is doing but hasn't spoken to him either. Hopefully, he's doing ok. I've had about as much as I can take this year. My boss was quit and while she wasn't my favorite person by any means she was familiar. I miss New York. It’s strange being the only person on the sidewalk for endless blocks. Not enough cheese shops and bakeries for me. No character or originality but I can't deny that there's enough here in the village district to satisfy and taste level. I wonder what this time alone has done for me in the long term. Time alone has caused pain. That in turn has encouraged magnetic energy and growth. I can feel myself attracting new friendships new relationships and new experiences. I'm ready for more...