It's never too late.

And I mean flushed in the non-bathroom sort of way

Weighing my pockets with stones of longing

Especially when those days are Saturday and Sunday.

They always come crawling back

I'm becoming such a Diaryland addict, it's kind of embarrassing. But I guess if you're reading this then I'm not the only one...

I went to Theo's for our weekly hang out this afternoon. We made it a quick one since he had a basketball game to photograph. We watched an episode of Monk. I ate about four pounds of goldfish.

When the episode was over, he had about fifteen minutes before he had to get back to the gym, so he asked how I was doing, said we hadn't talked in about a week. It was nice to have a conversation, but it seems like anymore the only thing anybody has to talk about is work or school or schoolwork or something related. He mentioned dreams. I told him I'd been dreaming about him. That was maybe weird. Then I told him about Sierra walking in on me and how funny it was, and that was probably a mistake too. God, it's so hard trying to censor everything when I'm so accustomed to just saying whatever pops into my head. I have to second guess what's appropriate.

Maybe I'll just start talking how I think and shock everybody out of their expectations.

At any rate, hanging out was still good. It feels nice to have a routine, something to look forward to. I feel kind of like I did in elementary school when I used to go over to Sara's everyday at a certain time. It's that same comforting pattern of knowing where you're going, what you're going to do, and the fact that the person you're going to see is going to be your friend. That's reassuring. The only difference between going to Theo's and going to Sara's, though, is that Sara and I used to make out a whole lot more.

Funny how that works.

Of friends and lovers at 4:56 p.m.