The One-Winged, Caged Bird Sings, Too.

This is a tough one, but I really need to write. For some reason, probably lack of sleep, everything just feels real heavy right now.

Friday night I went to Judas Priest and Whitesnake. It was pretty rad. I drank responsibly and headed home afterwards and my neighbor was still up. I went to her place and had a beer with her and listened to some music while I gave her arm tickles until she fell asleep on the floor. As soon as she was out, I left her apartment and locked the door behind me.

I got up at 8:00 AM and made some coffee and worked until about 2:00. The neighbor got up and I Irished up my coffee and gave her one as I completed my last action item. She said she wanted to hang out and be a bum and I told her that I would welcome that. We ended up doing the pool for a bit and then a movie and pizza. It was really domestic. I'm not sure what transpired next, but we got into it again. This time there was door slamming and name calling. I went to bed really pissed off having said some harsh things back. In hindsight, there were some things at play that I was unaware of.

Had breakfast the next morning while I waited for my mom to meet me for breakfast. She showed up right as they took it away and I switched to mimosas while we hung out and talked. I told her right off the bat that I was pretty pissed off from the night before and she reassured me that the neighbor was just going sideways and she would apologize and that if it was going to work out, it would work out. I told her I hoped so because I was falling madly in love with her. I've gone over it and over it and it's the only explanation that I've got. Right after that, I had an "I'm sorry" text show up.

So, we wrapped it up and I stopped at a bar on the way home to have a Robert Palmer to take the edge off. Later I found out that there are Federal, State, and Municipal regulations that state I am to be capped at 5 Robert Palmers in one sitting. Yeah, I got Palmered. It was actually a really fun afternoon of day drinking. The HughVoltage show switch got flipped.

The neighbor texted me to see if I was home and I told her that I was heading home, but was not "talk" worthy for some of the stuff we needed to talk about it. This is where I get fucked. If you would like to know anything about me, put me on a stool and fill me with cocktails. I will be stripped of all secrets if you want them. Nothing is off the table. I would never be a victim of waterboarding. Wait. Maybe they should use my method to get information from terrorists. I might be onto something. When you sum it all up, I think getting my secrets would go over way better in the press.

Long story short, the neighbor invited me in Sunday night when I got home and every card from my hand has been put on the table. She knows that I think I'm madly in love with her.

So, on a rough Monday due to a rough Sunday, she dropped by my work for lunch on her bike and we had lunch and talked about stuff. She pointed out all of the things that I didn't remember telling her. I told her that I may not remember it, but I can tell her that it was all true. She said that I made her laugh. It was a solid recovery. I'm not real mean anymore.

She biked around and met me after work and we went and grabbed a quick bite. I introduced her to fried dill pickle chips and sweet potato fries. I got a random text from a dude I had met the previous day. He thought I was entertaining and wanted to see if I was hanging out for a drink. It wasn't a gay thing. We went over and talked to him for a bit after turning down his offer of a drink. He seemed like good people.

We headed home and I played guitar and sang to her for a little bit, which is really alien to me. I've never done it before, but she's got me pretty good and to be completely honest, I enjoy her as an audience. She just lays on the couch with her eyes closed and listens to me do my thing. It's really awesome and sweet and there will probably never be a moment in our near future to compare to when I was playing "Lilac Wine" by Jeff Buckley to her while she laid on the couch. She looked so peaceful and it was completely contagious. Of course, a ten year old neighbor smashed into the sliding glass door like a lost bird at some point. He's got a mean crush on her, too, and was peeking through the blinds.

She went home after listening to some music for a bit and I went to bed. I wasn't really sleeping. I was mostly just laying there and my phone rang so I grabbed it. It was her and she was crying. We talked for a bit about stuff and I tried to calm her down and then she had to make another call and I went to bed again. Couldn't sleep at all at that point. She called again and I just told her that I would come over.

I went over to her place and she just looked really sad, so I gave her a hug and tried to reassure her about everything from here to there while we listened to "Happy" by Jenny Lewis & The Watson Twins on repeat. She eventually looked at me in my Adidas sweatsuit that I had on and said, "You look like a pimp." After that, she asked me to stay, so I stayed. Nothing happened. That's not what this is about. I just like to be around her. I want to protect her, take care of her, make her laugh, all of these things that I didn't know were in me anymore. It's all very dangerous, but it's not worth fighting anymore. I want to watch her while she is sleeping and at peace. I also caught her watching me sleep, too, this morning.