Lazy, Pathetic, Hater

It's beautiful outside. I can feel the activity. People are at Saturday events, enjoying the weather, each other. My friends are at the Ojai wine festival, others at their beach house in Santa Barbara, another is jogging on the beach in Malibu. I look at my hands on the keyboard right now. They don't look the same. The little lines and dryness are new. They look like someone else's hands. They have worked hard for me, they have lived, over-exposed with me in sunny, vacation-type cities and island get aways, they have given relief to muscles and pulled roots from muddy water. They have wiped a million salty tears from my face, they have clenched pens for hours and typed out the contents of my head. They ache sometimes, but they have always ached less than one would expect by now. I am totally distracted. I can't read, can't get in the shower, can't go get my car washed, can't call back the people who are waiting. I'm too tired to do anything too awake to sleep. I need to clean the cottage, unpack my suitcase still, hang my clothes. Music I love isn't moving me right now. Television is as useless as usual. Sometimes it does the trick when I feel like this but not today. I want to do oil pastels but I can't seem to drive to go buy the paper I'm out of.
I feel pathetic and lazy. I have to work later and that feels practically impossible.
I'm just sad. I miss my friend. I hate it that I know what the right thing to do is and I'm doing it. I can't see him because it just delays the pain I will eventually feel again. I can't rush to join his invitation to spend time together because it won't be free and easy anymore. Our ship has sailed, completed it's course. Maybe in a year or so we can meet on a different sea. It's so hard to make wise decisions, be smart, focus on my solo future and know that following my bliss isn't always an instantly gratifying thing. Follow my delayed bliss. That is what I'm doing. Besides if I saw him I'd be so angry that he is "very casually" dating someone"who doesn't even live here" named "Steph". That is so fucking gross. Explains why he wrote "Steph" to me instead of "Stef" in a recent e-mail. "Steph" is not invited to my different sea. I know he misses me but too bad. He should invite her to the Ojai wine festival instead. We will be friends again if I don't see him. If I do now I'll probably get arrested for shoving corks in his eye sockets