Loaded Questions 11
. I was sitting alone in the dark, staring at the panorama I've seen for years now and I realized I'm more alone than I seem to be. I spend time with lots of people but no one underrstands. Most of the time I feel like I'm having conversations with myself. I start a conversation with one person, two days later have an revelation and with someone else re-visit the topic or elaborate it or develop it, two days later come to a conclusion on the topic with someone else and the conversation evolves into a subject matter that at the time seems related but at the onset of the conversation would have made no sense. Think of my intellectual life as that last sentence: long, convoluted, complex, run-on, even a bit painful.
. I thought to myself as I sat in the dark about conversations with myself. How I'm the only one with real opportunity anymore to follow the conversations I have. I do kind of miss having a companion who was always there a second mind to add sanity to a world that honestly is currently making me question my present reality. I thought about the friends I've had in the past who have enjoyed my company enoguh to hear fully some of those conversations I have had with myself; in the fragments that they happen, group by group, night by night. I closed my eyes to the picture I've seen a thousand times and could still see it as I sat there in the dark. I thought of those friends, some dead, some gone, most too far gone. I felt phantom arms around me and I began to cry. It hurt to not actually feel those arms. I didn't want to be alone and in the moment savored every second of the lonliness.
. I don't want to go through the pain of caring about someone then hurting them accidentally or just by being myself, by not being the person they want to believe I am. I'm tired of being someone's prize. Being chased. Being on some pedistal somewhere. I want to be someone's best friend. I miss having that best friend to call and tell about something stupid that just happened, having that friend whose arms I can wrap around me when I'm weak and I need to cry. Who smiles at me when I'm feeling confident and strong. A friend who doesn't do/get things for me because I'm different. Who I don't have to worry about leaving home alone like a puppy who isn't paper trained because they don't know what to do without me. A friend who has their own life who can converge their life with mine on occation and who is perfectly happy living seperate lives. A friend.
. I don't have a true friend. So I fill my free time, keep busy so I don't have to come to the painful realization so often that I'm alone. When I have those moments; quiet ones, sitting alone in the dark, thinking about conversations with myself. I always have the same conversation. How I just want a friend. If I had that friend, a constant... I'm sick of that conversation. I started talking to the inanimate object that's been there for me through so much now. You're my loyal friend, you never complain when I get quiet and you isten when I need to talk. You never judge me and you are there for me when I need you at the drop of a hat. I only wish I could meet your needs too. Imagining friends now, and even in those relationships I'm the inadequate failure. I must be crazy. Either that or just really desperate for a true friend, which would at least explain my most recent mistakes.
. I was glad to be alone though. For once a chance to breathe, without fear or consequence, to relax and feel somber. To be away from all the people who want to be my friend and don't make the cut. I'm tired of people who just want to sleep with me.