I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser
Midnights become my afternoons
When my depression works the graveyard shift
All of the people I've ghosted stand there in the room
Midnights become my afternoons
When my depression works the graveyard shift
All of the people I've ghosted stand there in the room
Friday, Sam and I went to Green Lantern for dinner. I Ordered a small gluten-free pizza, and Sam ordered a salad. Our conversation was stilted. We are both people that articulate the things we are thinking, and neither of us has anything new going on in our lives to discuss.
Sam ordered a second tall Blue Moon beer with her meal. It takes her a long time to finish off these drinks, and she is usually a bit buzzed after. I found myself staring at the glass, wanting her to finish. Sam will not leave before her beer is done. She likes her Blue Moons.
I wanted to leave. I am less inclined to enjoy these nights out. They are triggering in a complex way that I find hard to explain even here. I would never try explaining it to her for fear of insulting her. We have been friends for more than fifteen years. Much has happened during that time. We have both changed. Like an old married couple, you wake up one day and realize you don't recognize the person sleeping next to you.
Stoically, I am sliding into this new phase of my life, yet still hoping for one last fling to extend the fun. Growing bitter about my choices, even though I know I would not change them if given a chance.
It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me
It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me
It's me, hi, everybody agrees, everybody agrees...Anti Hero, Taylor Swift
Originally Posted March 7, 2009
Six Months Ago
"You've wasted your summer," she said, not for the first time, as if summer marked some invisible boundary of importance more significant than the other seasons.
Sam drew out another cigarette and lit it. She was not ready to leave. The shadows were deepening around us. It was a bright early evening when we entered the restaurant now, no light showed through between the window blinds. Another sign that summer was coming to an end.
I tried to form a reply. I sputtered partial phrases, none of which made much sense. "Don't get defensive, " she continued. "You need to find someone more mature. Someone that can offer you something mentally."
It sounded horribly boring to me. Like watching paint dry-- acrylic paint, not oil-based. No fumes to enjoy. I don't really want someone to challenge me intellectually. I don't really put much thought into things, except people, maybe, and you really don't need a Ph.D. to observe people.
Sam drew out another cigarette and lit it. She was not ready to leave. The shadows were deepening around us. It was a bright early evening when we entered the restaurant now, no light showed through between the window blinds. Another sign that summer was coming to an end.
I tried to form a reply. I sputtered partial phrases, none of which made much sense. "Don't get defensive, " she continued. "You need to find someone more mature. Someone that can offer you something mentally."
It sounded horribly boring to me. Like watching paint dry-- acrylic paint, not oil-based. No fumes to enjoy. I don't really want someone to challenge me intellectually. I don't really put much thought into things, except people, maybe, and you really don't need a Ph.D. to observe people.
* * *
Last weekend:
Tinkerbell sits at the table in front of my computer, feeding her addiction to mySpace. I am sitting on the counter in the kitchen facing her. "See, he is avoiding the issue, and so are you," I say.
"How can he and you not fight? You are the most annoying person I know! He avoids fighting because he is afraid of losing you. Which means he is probably suppressing issues; eventually, that will make him unhappy."
"How can he and you not fight? You are the most annoying person I know! He avoids fighting because he is afraid of losing you. Which means he is probably suppressing issues; eventually, that will make him unhappy."
She listens, and we talk more. The conversation is mentally stimulating. It is a side no one else sees.
