Rosemary for Remembrance

As I lay down in bed (alone at 9:15 after Dylan made it clear that he was apathetic about me coming to see him again and (with the assistance of some drunken laziness) decided against bothering to actually go an experience him being nonchalant about my existence (again)), I wonder what the fuck I’m doing.  Why do I want this to work out so badly?  What makes him special?  I offered to drive to Omaha for the second night in a row, pay for you to go to a movie, while knowing that it was going to sleet all night and I was going to have to be at work in Lincoln at 6:30AM.  And you weren’t interested in any of the movies showing.  So I’ll lie to myself for a while.  You didn’t want me to spend the money.  You were tired.  You knew you’d see me soon.  The movies really aren’t that interesting.  And I’ll believe them for a while, until one by one I run out of excuses for you.

Why can’t I just take a train East and never come back?