Yesterday I woke up much earlier than expected after getting home at almost 4am from the orgy-but-not. I actually had a slight headache when I got home that morning and went straight to bed. I got up around 10:30 very excited about the picnic. I also felt slightly cocky about my newfound knowledge and initiation into the hidden, more grown up things of New York City. I was made a man more times over the night before without oozing a single glistening drop of precum.

I got ready with record speed and strutted with my iPod to meet Andrea uptown around 2:00pm. We dropped by a Fairway for juice, watermelon and a couple bags of chips before we headed over to Central Park. The day was perfect. The weekend was perfect. I was perfect. I felt it. I felt my age, young and invincible, and I beamed in and along with the sunlight. Andrea looked great and so did my friends and the strangers on the Great Lawn. Now I was in the Abercrombie + Fitch and/or beer ad. Everyone flawless, smiling, genuine and bright. We and everything around us moved in slow motion and real time at once. The food was great, the pictures we took were great, the kites we tried to fly were great. Cute shirtless boys tossing frisbees and doing handstands, pretty girls smiling and brushing the hair out of their faces.

Hung out until around 6:30, went home, lazed about and let the day seep in before the Sopranos came on.

Right now I'm tired, really tired. I'm on a train back to the City. I ended up working alone in Fishkill today with Norm. It wasn't half as bad as I had anticipated. She doesn't know how to get to the Beacon train station so she ended up dropping me off in Brewster, which must be at least 20 minutes further from the City by train. I called Gary before the train came, hoping he'd be available to pick me up so I could spend an extra night with him. He'll be driving down to Jersey tomorrow anyway. I got his voicemail and left a 'scared cityslicker' message. He called a while ago. It's too late. I'm slightly pissed because he never seems to have his cell phone on, especially when I need him to answer it. I also too tired and too hungry to really be pissed.

I wonder about us sometimes. I don't see him often enough and I doubt that'll ever change. At least long term. It sucks that he's already so far away and he doesn't get weekends off. I only seem to wonder what's holding us together until I'm with him.

Headache setting in. A real one. I've been getting them every day now for the past couple weeks. Last week was really bad and at one point I was crippled in bed for a whole day. I think I'm dying and just don't know it. I haven't had a physical in years.