watching: Wonder Boys
mood: depressed

She walked out the door thinking I was asleep, but I saw her grabbing the coat she left folded in the chair by the door, and then walk outside without even a second look inside of the miniature apartment where I live.
You know how in movies a damaged person meets another damaged person and they know each other in unfortunate circumstances, and they understand the other in ways nobody understood them before, and then they find the way to repair their lives?

Well, in real life you meet another damaged person, and she or he understands, but cannot help. She is the damaged person I think I understand, and who is the closest to understand what I've been through. No damage in this world is the same to different people, even if their experiences are similar.

She left her watch by the sink and her smell in the sheets of my bed. I felt so relieved when I see the cheap little piece of jewellery, yet I feel more relieved about her absence. I hope she won't call yet, I hope she won notice her watch is missing, I hope I don't have to see her again soon, even though I know I'm always the first to call.

In the street downstairs a drunk pisses leaned on a telephone pole.

The night arrived with the sound of the cars racing, and the cheers of the drunks, and the fights from the bars, and her legs entwined with mine.

She spoke to my ear all the evening, in her slow, lazy voice, the one she uses with the persons who sleep with her, so different to her classes voice. And different too to the voice she commands the waiter when she orders in a restaurant. I sometimes wish that this kind of voice were only for me but I know I'm only one of many, many damaged people she sleeps with.

II get dressed and go out a few minutes after she left, giving her some time so I won't run into her.

I need a drink. The air is sweet and cold. Night starts early in this part of the city, and there's already people puking in the corners.

I need a drink so I won't feel the need of calling her.

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