The story of a lonesome ol'Jerome
What?!? I felt the blood rushing in my head. Fuck. Fuck!
The entire BVB Army has been instructed to find me. They know my name, what state I live in, and that I'm a vet. They know what I look like, at least when I am really angry and wearing more makeup than usual. The vast majority will most likely deduce that I bumped uglies with Andy.
My feelings, my thoughts, were raw, incoherent, coming too rapidly. I felt like there was just not quite enough oxygen in the room.
I read them both again. Andy's message to me had been retweeted 689 times, and favorited 1,003. I looked at some of the little comments: "omg gurl, i so jellyz dont make andi wate!" "Good luck you guys!" "Fucking fat lezbo." Ugh... my head still pounded. The thoughts and feelings were coming too fast and I yelled in anger. I usually only let out the shouts in the car, but it just came out.
My neighbor, who is awesome, tapped a few times, gently, on the ceiling. She and I have never officially even introduced ourselves, but she always says 'hi,' never yells at me for doing my laundry in the middle of the night, and just radiates goodwill. She also has pink hair (or was it blue again?) and more facial piercings than you can shake a stick at. Not for the first time, I wish we were actually friends. I could use a friend right now. Being social just doesn't come naturally to me.
I sigh and looked at Andy's post to the BVB Army. That one was even more popular. Then I noticed the first comment, it was from Andy, "Forgot to add that I need to find Gwyn in the next 36 hours or so, when I need to leave for the next stop on tour. If you find her, let me/BVB know. In the meantime, I will keep looking." Other comments included "Thank fucking God you can date other women!" "We'll find her, Andy, we are here for you." "You could do so much better though." "Why was she so pissed?"
I didn't know what I felt, I was so confused. I just sat there for a minute, looking at the computer. Then I went back outside, to the balcony, for a cigarette. About a third of the way through, I realized i was passing out. I stubbed it out, and tucked the remainder away for later. I had to sleep. Whatever was going to happen, it would have to happen after some sleep.