Sometimes, though, i go out. i have really only seen a handful of people on repeat, and though they get me out, they don't seem to mind visiting me in my cave either. They are also clever enough to know that i am less creepy and disconsolate when they bring a bottle of white for safe passage.
And i am oddly surprised at the company that keeps me now, these very different people that have wandered in and taken me in. The cosmological congruency i think, is that we have all been terribly good at being terribly aware of being terribly unsuccessful in meaningful relationships. So bottles of wine go down, tears are spilt, bad Chinese takeout soothes us, and we bond over terribly terrible memories and the terribly good ones too.
Then it's time for breakfast in the rain.
It's summer. Sometimes, i do go out, and the sun does shine. So do my raddest of the rad friends.