The Atlantic Ocean took me in its arms again yesterday. My mom was never that physically affectionate and I see her more and more infrequently these days, getting a hug and a peck on the cheek once every few months. My dad is dead. Lovers and friends seem to come and go quickly. The ocean though has been there for years and years for me, always ready to embrace me, to make me feel connected to something, that I may not be alone in this world. I biked to Riis Beach again yesterday from Canarsie, the bike ride along Jamaica Bay and out to the Rockaways beautiful and slightly exhausting. I got to the beach, threw down my stuff, and dove into the ocean. It was cold and brought my body temperature down from biking, cooled me off, grounded me. I kept diving under, in love with the sensation of being totally underwater, all this matter in contact with my skin, with every part of it.

In the evening, I saw Justin Bond's "Lustre" show at Abrons Arts Center with Diego. It was a really beautiful show, striking performances from Justin, the Pixie Harlots, and Our Lady J. Throughout the show, Justin had a running bit about his fascination with Joan Didion that really sent my heart aflutter, me being obsessed with Didion, holding her up as one of my writerly idols, The White Album one of my favorite books. The ocean was still surrounding me, the memory of how good it felt to be swimming in the cold Atlantic, and here were beautiful songs and lovely bits of monologue, and the show had me really inspired about life and creation. Justin closed with a moving cover of Nina Simone's "22nd Century".

We left the theater, smoked some cigarettes on the street, and talked about the pieces we liked and those we didn't, why, talked about Peru, him leaving for that country today, talked about Mexico, me leaving for that country on Tuesday. We stopped at some bar on Avenue B, them having an open vodka bar, drank some drinks, talked some more, legs touching. From there, we went to Eastern Bloc. More drinks were consumed, we made out, had conversations with various people. I told him I was going to grab a slice of pizza, feeling quite drunk, wanting something to soak it up. I came back a few minutes later and he had left. He didn't pick up his phone or respond to my text messages. I had a hard time believing that he would leave without saying goodbye, that he would leave without me, the last time I would see him for a month and some days. Eventually he picked up his phone, told me he was at home, that he couldn't find me, and that his phone had died. It sounded like bullshit to me and after feeling so good, I felt so shitty, so sad. He told me to come over but I was too pissed off, too sad, to want to go up to his house, to see him then.

I met up with Gabriel who was with Richard, this boy I slept with for a bit in October. I was really excited to see Richard, thought that seeing this person I haven't seen since then, this person I liked a lot, that this could revive my good mood. Instead, Richard asked me in front of Gabriel about the friendship between Gabriel and I. He then asked me if I still had a crush on Gabriel. I was no longer excited about having run into Richard. He was brining me further down. On the subway ride home, Richard looked at me, at my hair, and said I looked the same, asked if I ever changed my hair. And I know he wasn't trying to be an asshole, but everything he said to me was stupid, was unkind when all I wanted was warmth, kindness, a feeling of love, the ocean's embrace.