fuzzy drug deals and lots of these [...]

I live a strange life. Not overtly exciting, daring, or captivating, just strange. Strange enough that people probably look at me at times and think, ‘who the fuck are you?’ Less than thirty minutes ago, after many phone calls, arranging different meeting places, and trying to find matching times, I meet a man off of I-25, in the dark of a closed gas station, transported a couple crates out of my car and into his thirty-foot trailer, got in my car and drove home, a little relieved and a little melancholy. I have had them for nearly three years. I feel like I abandoned them, but I think they are going to a better life. I gave Pumpkin and Nutmeg, my two sister, Holland Lop Bunnies, away. The husband picked them up for his wife on his way across half the country. She is so excited. They will get more attention there than they do with me, as Dunkyn and Dolan occupy all the love space in my heart. Now I just need to find a good home for my three birds…
I went to TC’s housewarming tonight, and everyone was going to Tracks afterwards. I got a call around 10:30 from the Bunnyman telling me he was on his way, so I had to leave. When people asked where I was going, I told them I had to go drop my bunnies off to a guy off the highway. A couple of them thought I was making a sexual reference. When they realized I actually meant bunnies, they then asked if I was going to Tracks after the delivery. I had to say no to this as well. I had three of my toenails removed this past week, so dancing and the possibility of getting stepped on sounds less than appealing. However, this reason was nearly as obscure as dropping off rabbits. Those that didn’t know me very well didn’t quite know what to do with me. My friends simply hugged me and told me they loved me. All the while shaking their inner heads and muttering about ‘that Brandon…’
While at this party, I was talking to my friend AC, who is in from Washington. I was standing with my arms folded over my chest. She looked at me and mentioned that I had been standing like that all night and wanted to know what was wrong, that I wasn’t the normal Brandon. (Is there a normal Brandon?) Part of the deal was that I was sweaty (as per normal) and my t-shirt was not being forgiving of that fact, so the folding of arms was serving that purpose as well as making my biceps and chest look in better shape than they are in reality (there was a cute [way out of my league cute] boy there tonight). However, the main reason was that I was just more comfortable like that. However, her question made me do a few seconds of introspection. In some ways, the past year has given me more courage and determination that I have ever had before. In others, it has made me less giddy, quieter, and less likely to meet others outside of my little circle of beloved boys and select girls (who are also beloved)…
Part of that, I think, is that the rejection has truly made me feel fairly undesirable, at least to those that I might desire in return. Why set myself up to get told I’m not what they want? Yet again. Also, the past year has made me more introspective than before, which shouldn’t have been possible, and for some reason has created the need to not say more than absolutely necessary to anyone (unless my fingers are moving on this keyboard). It’s not that I don’t love being around people, I do. I would just rather listen and observe and bask in the presence of others, and only occasionally have the attention or story time turned to me. Does this mean I am still as sad as I was? I don’t think I am. Is this something that is going to stay, part of who I am now? Will it change when I am in a relationship again? If so what the fuck does that say about me? Even this post sounds very depressing. I’m not depressed right now. In fact, it has been weeks since I cried. There are so many wonderful things happening, or at least potential wonderful things happening. Will I continue to get quieter and more reserved as I get older? I’ll be invisible by forty! Oh, that could be good. Then I could eat all the Sonic and Fried Chicken I want and it wouldn’t matter…