a trip to the bar.

so, its 2 in the morning now, the bars are shutting down, they were playing madonna to get us out of the one gay bar in our town. Several good prospects, nothing panned out, again. i even got hooched up, i was acting sexy, giving the "eye". i got some glances back, but as per usual, they left with unbelivibly good looking guys who passed me by as if i was some piece of furnature. i think they would have sat on me (which isnt such a bad prospect) if it wernt for the subtle motion of me makeing love to my corona every so often. so, i left, in my hooched up clothes and good hair, i got into my car and drove home. about half way home, i realized that im pretty buzzed and would probly do anything right now. the thoughts run though my head as to who i could call, who would be up at this hour but all of my friends are in bed with their loves, or not presently speaking with me. so, i arrive home, stumble up the stairs, try to use my car clicker to get into the door, it doesnt work, so i try my key, ah, finally, who would have known. i go inside, its warm. the heater is running, keeping the cold at bay but it still creeps in under the doors and through the single pane windows. i take off my sexy jeans, throw them on the chair and kill the screensaver. a couple people have messaged me but not for what i want. a cute, almost to perfect kid from LA, and a guy who i met a few times. but, unfortuantly both of them soon sign off and im left with just a laptop, a radio station playing in the back ground. i realize that i havnt been touched in a long time. any kind of touch will do. the other day someone put their hand on my arm. i felt this thrill, almost as if i had forgotten what it felt like to be touched. it wasnt sexual. it wasnt a friend. it was just someone asking for help. i miss it, that feeling. the guys at the bar were doing it. placing a hand on others sholders when they talked, a hug when they left. i sat at my barstool bobbing to the music, casting glances at the cute guy across the bar, damn , what id do to have him touch me. of course, he left with some big guy who id never seen before, they must have known each other. a slight grinding of the hips when they hugged, hands lingering for a little to long after the initial hug. the lesbians move in. they are more flamboiant, they kiss and hold each other as the music played. paired off they make their way to the dance floor. i sit and watch them dance and the cute gay couple dance and grind against each other, laughing and smiling. i summon a smile when the bar tender, a butch chick who ive come to know as Andy, asks if id like anything else. i get a glass of water, go up and have a smoke in the smokers aquarium. there are a few other people in there. a cute guy, plesently average, talking on his phone, smoking Djhurms. the smell of cloves has pretty much taken over the room but its plesent in an odd sort of way. i think in my head of what id do to him, what id have him do to me, of walking up to him, pushing him against the wall and passionatly kissing him until he caught up with me. hands exploring as the others in the room gawked and pointed. fingers grabbing fabric and hips pressed against each other. buttons flying off his blue stripped shirt as i kissed down his neck. but, instead i stand there, drink my water, smoke my ciggarett and listen to him talk to someone on his phone. there is a party later on tonight apparently. no parties for me. just in my plesently buzzing head. so, now that im home. alone, sitting in my boxers, hammering out this blog, i listen to the drab sounds of the music. going though my contacts the ones that are online, i dont want to talk to, and the ones who arnt, are the ones that i wish i could talk to. there is one, one that hasnt been online in a long time, ah joey, i wish i could talk to you again. you made me feel alive, made me feel loved even though you were thousands of miles away and utterly unreachable. i have no way of knowing if hes alive, if he found what he was looking for somewhere else. i wish i could talk to him again, i need the pieces of my shattered heart back. so, i think its time for this drunk horny young man to go to bed. ill crawl between the ice cold sheets and snuggle up to the extra pillow, pretending its one of those beautiful men holding me as i fall into a sleep filled with dreams of the perfect man and how hes just out of reach.