Stranded at a 24 Hour Diner...

You see I always wanted to kiss you and I,
always wanted to run from you because
I always wanted to miss you and I,
I always wanted to come for you...

I've been stood up. By my own sanity.

Sure, we've been on the rocks lately. We've had some troubles. There was that mess with the tequila shots and my roommate's boyfriend's car, and that time we skipped work to drive to Baudette because we couldn't sleep and I wanted to see Willy the Walleye. And there is of course, the never-ending, consistently ridiculous battle we're having over my intensely screwed up love life that usually ends in consuming mass quantities of Jameson.

...But, we were going to give it a try. Take some time, give each other the necessary space, retreat to our separate corners and try not to come out swinging.

The plan: Monday night movie fest while packing to leave my beautiful house. I was going to bring the popcorn and grass, and dear old Sanity was supposed to bring the rational thought and logical decision making. Only, Sanity decided not to show.

Apparently, there was something better going on.

So there I was, all alone and without Sanity, when who should decide to call me for a drink but the Prince of Lies himself. Naturally, I got all dolled up and went walking into the bar he commanded my presence in. Being sans Sanity, I had no choice in the matter.

Three beers and four torturously intimate cigarette breaks later, we are back at my house. There is some small talk and a half-hearted attempt at watching a movie before Prince and I are naked, I am vulnerable, and we are complicating our nonexistent relationship- Again.

We manage to stop, however, before 'everything but' turns into 'all the way.' This is not because he miraculously develops self-control or because Sanity showed up late with an apology and a pizza. It's because I seem to have forgotten which box I packed the condoms in. If Sanity isn't going to help me, Dumb Luck seems to be my new best friend.

Things...cease, and it seems impossible for me to lay next to him for another second. I reach for enough clothes to cover and enough cash to get some breakfast, tiptoe up the stairs, drop my keys on the tile floor twice, and head out the door.

I chain-smoke as I drive, cursing every CD in my car for reminding me we have the same taste in music. There is no destination, I only hope to remain gone from the house long enough for him to wake up and get the hell out. I silently beg this one small favor of him, please don't make me come home to you, because it feels too good to let the day begin with you next to me.

I end up, two hours later, at a Perkins Restaurant in Wisconsin. (God love the cheeseheads for not passing a smoking ban.) It is there I sit, cursing Sanity for leaving me high and dry and starting this whole messy business over again.

I'm in the market for a replacement. How about Reason? Passion? Rage? I hear Rage is a hoot at parties...What do you think?