Well, Shit
I’m really down today. Went to bed that way, woke up that way, trying not to be that way only makes it worse. I’m going to see Alice in Chains tonight, which should be a reason for celebration and I’m sure it will be, but, I’m not there yet. I’m still here, stewing in my recent unfufilled fantasies, which really translates to recent failures.
I should be fucking happy and grateful. I make a good living doing something I really enjoy, Nate still has the opportunity to pass 8th grade, I’m applying to grad school, I have food, clothing, shelter, cable, internet, a car that is paid off, money in a savings account, heat when I’m cold, and air conditioning when I’m hot and since it’s Spring, finally, I may have both on the same day. I sure have a lot to complain about.
Still, my therapist would tell me to just admit I’m heartbroken, to admit I have feelings and that my feelings are important, and that someone hurt them. And that someone is Adonis.
I think everyone has problems with being ignored and overlooked. I particulary have deep seeded problems with this given that my accomplishments in life have been mainly overlooked and ignored by my parents, my mother in particular, in favor of my brother. I take it so personal, so deep down in the gut when someone ignores me, to the point of acute evil anger which is really just hurt disguised because anger is more righteous than hurt.
Adonis and I had talked about going hiking together and had exchanged a couple of e-mails about it. Because of my work schedule and their unwillingness, despite my oft-mentioned reminders of what our agreement was (work the shitty Sunday shift and I get Saturday off, at least while Nate is in school), I requested May 1st off for the traditional German day of hiking and in celebration of Walpurgisnacht.
I sent Adonis an e-mail, now 9 days ago, asking him about his interest in going hiking on May 1st, figuring this would only be the nice thing to do given he has a full life and so do I and making plans ahead of time would probably be a good idea. He did the worst thing imagineable, he ignored me. Then when I saw him last night at work, he said hi and then wouldn’t look at me the rest of the evening.
This is all very bad news for mutiple things, one being my ego, two being hope, and three being dreams – at least as they relate to him. It’s rare around this town to find someone that is single, good looking, not gay, intelligent, and isn’t afraid to get a little dirty. I know he isn’t afraid of this because I’ve seen pictures of him and his four-wheeler plastered with mud. I like that in a man. I like the fact that he wears a suit and tie and has a great job that he works very hard at and is still a down-to-Earth humble person.
He also hurt my feelings which suddenly makes all of the other shit not worth a damn. Reject me if you’re not feeling it, but don’t fucking ignore me. I would rather be rejected than ignored. Ignoring someone is a rejection, but it isn’t an honest rejection. It’s a poor man’s rejection. It’s just fucking rude and man, it fucking hurts.
And what is with all of the other bullshit that has gone on with us in the past months? What? I mean, seriously! Stop the act, Adonis! Or just tell me you’ve changed your mind, don’t want to, sorry, you’re too old for me, sorry, I don’t want to be your friend, sorry, I don’t have time for you. Good Goddess, tell me something, BUT DON’T FUCKING IGNORE ME!
FUCK!
I’m not normally given to self-pity but today, I’m wallowing in it like a dog wallows in the first shitpile it finds after a bath. I’m sure my therapist would be happy to know I’m taking time out of my day to admit I have feelings, admit someone hurt them, and that I’m crying over it, which apparently are normal responses instead of my past response of attempting to squash it under my boot like an annoying crunchy bug and mash it into a crack in the sidewalk and forget to attempt it ever existed.
“It’s all right/there comes a time/got no patience to search/for peace of mind/Layin’ low/want to take it slow/no more hiding or/disguising truths I’ve sold” – Alice in Chains from Jar of Flies.
My cracks are full of mashed crunchy bugs and I’ve been working at digging their skeletal remains out. What a nasty job. I’d rather not add the insult of another crunchy bug to the injury the skeletons have left behind. Plus, I’d rather not go psycho mean on his ass. He may deserve it, but I’m not lowering myself to dish it. What is it they say, you can stand up for yourself without being an ass about it?
“Hope, a new beginning/Time, time to start living/Like just before we died/there’s no going back/to the place/we started from/Hurt, falling through fingers/Trust, trust in the feeling/There’s something left inside/There’s no going back/to the place/we were before/all secrets known/Calm, all wounds are healing/Strong, truth is worth saving/I want to feel alive…” All Secrets Known – Jerry Cantrell from Black Gives Way to Blue.
Another thing. This whole situation has not given me much courage and really, I need some courage. It’s no secret to anyone here, especially myself, that I’m a lemming when it comes to Jerry Cantrell’s music. I study his lyrics like I study Maya Angelou, Ernest Hemingway, Jim Harrison, and other writers. I plan on doing one of my grad papers on his lyrics, both from Alice and his solo work. What? He’s a poet too.
Anyway, I just have this idea for some of my writings and I want so bad just to have five minutes of his time to ask if in the future, if he would be interested in doing something like that with me. It takes a certain bit of ingenuity, but I am nothing if not ingenious, to steal five minutes of his time, hell, maybe three. But it also takes courage and a willingness to stiffen my spine and take the rejection, which frankly, my success rate at this endeavor, to work with him, is almost assured at 1% and maybe less, but my failure rate is assuredly 100% if I don’t have the courage to ask.
Courage is a quality or spirit that enables someone to face difficulty without fear. Brave is having courage. Fearlessness, pluck, mettle, nerve, spunk, spirit, audacity.
If I don’t ask the answer will always be no. If I don’t ask the answer will always be no. If I don’t ask the answer will always be no.
What do you call it if you still face difficulty but you still have fear? What if I do have the opportunity to ask but I’m still shaking like a leaf when I do? What’s that called? Stupid but brave? Brave but stupid? Courageously stupid? Courageously stupid but hopeful?
I still have time. It’s not like I have to ask today and maybe there would be a better time to ask. A different approach. Ingenuity. Sometimes it’s not what you ask but where and when and I’m pretty good at determining that. For now, I’ll leave that in limbo and that’s okay. I’m no where near where I want to be on that project anyway. Maybe I should actually finish writing it first!!!
I get excited and put the cart before the horse when I should be much more methodical in my approach, at least to some things. Potential energy is a good thing, but really, you have to make sure its going to go kinetic before involving other mortals. This is also what you call “inspiration.” Move your ass, or you’ll never get to ask him because it should be transitioning between potentional and kinetic before you make your move.
“I go to sleep behind the eight ball/I live to fight for one day/I’m trapped in the cold outside/there ain’t no shelter/they wanna force my hand/’Til I/Take what I wanted, and/break all the lies that they/feed, the fuckin’ liars/smash all the temples, and/crawl through the rubble, and/cry to the fallen/I’m the last my kind still standing…” – Last of my Kind – Jerry Cantrell and William DuVall from Black Gives Way to Blue.
Good to have figured that out now instead of stressing about it all damn day and ruining my 1% chance by putting my ass before my brain. By doing so, I may have just increased my odds to 5%.
That’s comforting.
Back to Adonis. I told T-Bird about what happened and her response isn’t really relevant. It was everything you would expect from a best friend. However, I told her that as Nate and Cam and I sat at dinner after hiking on Saturday that I thought about the empty chair beside of me at that four top table. For some reason, Nate and Cam, even at 13 and 15, still don’t act mortified that I’m around and even though I give them space, they’re very inclusive of this old lady.
However, it does nothing to fill that empty chair at the table with an adult, and forgive me my female friends, but I want it to be a guy, like a boyfriend or potential boyfriend guy that I could sit and chat with while the boys are talking about video games. And me, the one who values her solitude, has to admit loneliness in those moments.
It took that empty chair to make me realize I am lonely and how much I wished there was a special someone, a just for me someone, there to fill it. Oh wait, I mean, I’m admitting it out loud.
“Tears that soak a callous heart,” – I Stay Away – Alice of course – Jar of Flies.
It’s days like this I really miss Smokey. He never minded when I cried into his fur. He would just grab a hold of my face with his paws, lick my forehead with his rough-ass cat tongue, and chew my hair. Boy, am I making the rounds today. My therapist asked and I admitted to the fear that if I start crying I may never stop, that there may not be a way to “Dam That River.”
This may be the day I never stop.
Anything Goes 