I partially hate writing entries so late at night�the light of the screen seems to wake up my roommate, or really, basement-mate�but this seems to be the only time I have really.
Tonight, after working an eleven hour shift at work, planned to go to some quiet bar to counsel a friend who is going through some relationship issues, but instead ended up at El Chapultepec for blues night.
My friend stood me up. He'd much rather go home to make up with the lady. His girl, as it turns out, used to be mine. I've written on here about her. At least I wrote about our break-up. Their break-up seems to be a word for word mirror image of our break-up two years ago. I told him, "this is what will happen. This is how it's going to end." but he didn't really listen. He told me he loves her and that she is worth everything that she is putting him through.
He is playing the role given to him.
He is playing it better than I did.
So being stood up, I sauntered over to Denver's legendary jazz establishment. Sat and listened for a bit to some blues man named T-bone sing his heart out. Talked about jazz with the head trumpet player from the traveling tour of "Les Miserables." He was lonely. He needed to talk to someone. He told me I was a good man as I left him to his drinks.
And then I rode my bike home. Happy and grateful to be in my own skin. Well loved and secure. I can't think of anything else I could ever need.
12:14 a.m. - 2011-09-06
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