04.19.02 - 11:27 p.m.

there is something about this town that is lonely no matter what. Regardless of how many friends you have, of how many parties you attend, how much beer you drink, its lonely underneath everything else. All day long i have been giving my phone number to people that have no intention of ever using it. I watch them scribble numbers in sometimes familiar handwriting i spit out nines and sevens and o's, and smile at the end and i watch them fold it into their wallet and i want to move away. I have a handful of half friends who make me homemade tapes and invite me to parties full of people that i dont know. I end up on my porch smoking parilaments and waiting for someone who knows me to drive by so that we can sit and be silent and breathe the same old air. Its tiring being interesting to people all the time. Bless jt's heart for this tape which is sweet and spacy and full of boys voices and slow guitar.

I applied for twenty jobs today.

I saw morgan and his shrinking girlfriend at dees tonight, her with her scoliosis and he with his surprisingly abercrombie ensemble. HIs hug was familiar and still warm from three years ago. He used to open the car door always and it felt strange, and right too. We used to go to the mall and shop, to eat, to buy baseball caps, underwear...and now there is a nothingness that stings a little in his arms. He asked for my phone number, girlfriend shrinking into the porn magazines and i gave it to him and it seemed like i might of faked myself into something nice. A moment where we stepped away from ourselves and did the thing youre supposed to do when you meet someone you used to lie in bed with. He's getting out of town, back to atlanta. And its why am i here as i find my car. "Youre still driving that same blue camry" he says with a smile and a nod of his head like it was a surprise. I followed his eyes to Go and wondered why he brought that up, it pulled me out and back to us in that car, and nights in birmingham, hiding cigarettes from robin and eric.

Im wearing a ring that slips down and around on my finger, a small silver band that looks like a wedding band in the right light. It shocks me into stopping and i consider the years that are twisting out before me.

And last night. Something scary. All at once, the doorbell ringing, robin in my room demanding that i wake up, a glance at the clock glowing 4:30 a.m.

"A car salesman is here to see you"

"what??"

"There is a guy at the bottom of the stairs who wants you, he says he's the car salesman."

Im wearing mostly nothing, a nightgown that would be sexy if i was a different kind of woman. I wrap up in a black fleece blanket squinting in the den light, in the hall light, in the bright reality of being thrown awake. Its Tim's brother. I met him inconsequentially on the porch while tim borrowed the ironing board. We talked about nothing, about cars, i tried to make the conversation easy and light but i felt the anger that is tims also, the tired and electric resignation that bristles around you that makes you conscious and uncomfortable. It wasnt long. I sat un pretty on the top step in a too big tee shirt and stretched out jeans, my bad haircut dry and dead around my face. He was more handsome than tim besides a pinky ring which automatically became threatening. Tall and dark, teeth that werent fixed, a lusty gap in the front. No one would sit down. He left his beer on the porch. That was all. I went inside tim came out, jenn and i went up the stairs, the brothers went down them, maybe hands were shook, i dont remember. I thought nothing more of . Until it was 4 am and we were on the porch. After i adjusted to being awake, adjusted to being on the porch in the middle of the night, after getting used to his breath that was warm and sour with too much beer, i gathered that he had come to ask me for sex.

"I thought you might invite me upstairs where we could have amazing sex from now until you have to go to work." There wasnt much to gather, he straightforward had my face in his hands waiting for me to make eye contact with him, his breath hot and sour in my face. The part i cant understand is why i didnt hit him, is why i didnt leave and lock the door. I was afraid, but not immobilized. I thought he might force me into staying on the porch but i could have beat him. He was drunk and i am strong. Instead i stood with the blanket tight around me while he tried to devise ways to get it off. He hugged me and i let him. I kept my arms firm against my chest and my pelvis away from his but i laid my head flat against his chest while he apologized and told me he was horrible. I told him he needed to go to bed and tim's anger came out, that scrappy defensiveness that is so abrasive against words that are meant to be kind. I dont understand why i felt i needed to be kind with him, gentle. Thats the worst part. It was like, regardless of how much of a dick he was being it was more important that i didnt hurt him. Why am i like that? It was scary in that sense. I dont know what else to say.

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