See How They Run

Man's aunt died of cancer two days ago. She is the second female in his family to have been taken by the disease since I met him a little over two years ago, but definitely not the second in total. He says he’s lost count of how many in his family have passed from it all together.

I went to his work last night to grab a bite to eat, knowing it would probably be my only chance to see him for a while; not only because of the viewing and funeral, but also because of his general feelings about life now that it had taken another turn for the worse. I drove there thinking about how we’re always like this—that if he’s not having some kind of crisis, I am—and how neither of us are the kind of people who know how to deal with another person’s tragedies, much less our own. Heading outside with him after dinner for some alone time was like heading out to the chopping block; I knew it would be torture. I predicted that we’d sit on the bench and he’d awkwardly hug me and then dig around in his pockets for cigarettes and a lighter while I sat there in the cold wondering how much longer it would take him to just do away with me.

And it started like that, the walking outside and the weird hug and the chain smoking--but then, right when I was losing myself in old gum stains on the concrete, he jumped up on top of the bench and said, “OH! RATS!” right as a small mouse fell from the sky a few inches away from my foot. The pipe on the side of the building nearest us snaked a good fifteen feet upwards before it opened into a funnel shape right where the roof began, and there we saw two more mice peering over. Man made gagging sounds off to the side while one of the remaining mice made a really loud SQWEE! sound, jumped, and was then quickly followed by the third. Plop! Plop! All of them survived and went running underneath the gate that lead to the back of the building.

Man couldn’t stop fake barfing and shaking his body like it was suddenly covered in dirt and I couldn’t stop laughing. It had just rained rodents.

I think that sometimes it takes really bizarre things like rat rain to snap you out of lulls and remind you of the fun you once had with certain people. I don’t expect to be graced with incidents like this all the time, so I’m going to take this as a reminder that being the girl who cuts ties with a machete so it's smooth and final isn’t always all it’s cracked up to be.

Seul

I never thought that I'd feel the way that I do right now.

A couple of years back, this guy in one of my Creative Writing classes announced in this really pompous way that he was very careful about what he read because he didn't want trash to influence his writing. I remember thinking that he was some kind of moron because I felt that you'd have to be one to let someone else's bad writing make your own writing bad. I mean, if you're a good writer, you're a good writer, period. Right? I believed that nobody should be able to change what is naturally within you, and to an extent I still do, but I’m slowly beginning to realize that if you’re primarily ruled by emotions (like me) rather than logic, it’s very easy to be changed by what and whom you invite into your life.

Months ago my cell phone was disconnected because I failed to pay the bill. At first I felt kind of panicky because, let's face it, I have issues. And for some reason, even though I don't have a very welcoming vibe, strangers LOVE to talk to me. One of the motives for investing in an iPod was that I'd look distracted in public places. And my ridiculous amount of hats and jackets with hoods? Same vein. When The Pod went on the fritz (what I get for purchasing first generation technology) I turned to my cell phone and ended up checking my voice mails roughly ten times a day. At first I tried calling friends every time I'd have to walk to the shuttle stop, or to the bathroom, or down the hall, or across the street. Understandably, they got irritated and stopped answering. I suppose this could partly be because after a while I had nothing better to say than, "Hi. I'm walking." When my phone went kaput (what I get for throwing it against a wall) I was forced to face the outside world, gasp! Without electronic devices! And you know, it wasn't so bad. Strangers said hello, that I looked nice today; they wished me a good day and a good afternoon; they asked me the time and if I could grab whole milk for them from the shelf at the store because they had poor eyesight; It was nice. So nice in fact that I didn't reconnect my phone until weeks and weeks later, though I could have done it sooner.

On top of the no-phone thing, I've been living at my father's house since the school semester started, and in case you didn't know, his house is in the middle of nowhere. It's a two-hour commute from my house to school; one and one half hours if I'm lucky. Basically, unless I'm at school or work, I'm home because it doesn't make sense to my wallet or my odometer to drive out to civilization just for fun when I've already been out there 920837429874 times in one week for learning and making bacon.

Let's recap: no Pod, no phone, and no life. And as it turns out, I'm quite happy. My homework is getting done, I'm writing a ton of new material (an article I mentioned a couple of posts ago moved to the number 1 spot out of the 224 in its category -- I'm pleased) and I just feel a lot better. A friend asked me to house sit his place for the weekend and I turned down two parties in favor of sitting here in this big empty home with a ton of blankets and a borrowed MacBook Pro. I think if I listen closely I can actually hear my skin beginning to wrinkle because I'm turning into an old bitty.

No but really, I feel like I'm thinking clearer than usual without all of the interruptions and distractions that I usually invite. And it's not that I don't want to see my friends anymore or talk to them on the phone or listen to music, but like I said a couple of posts ago, I do want to fix my life and I feel like separating myself from things that I usually use to help me avoid it is helping me do that.

Consequently, I've been feeling strangely when it comes to all things involving The Man. Since reconnecting and attempting to rebuild whatever it is that’s rebuild-able, we’ve fallen into this strange place that I’m not even sure I can begin to explain. At first it seemed like it was going really well; we were laughing, having fun and enjoying each other’s company. But now there's something else here; something new. Instead of being elated when I see him, our mutual vibe is calm and zombie-like.

How dumb does it sound to say that even though I'm a perfectly happy person, I can't be around certain individuals because they have the power to lessen that happiness just by existing in my general vicinity? Well, to the guy in my CW class, I say kudos. Kudos for being able to recognize your own weaknesses and having the right mind to do something about them. No kudos for me who recognizes them only so she can sit here and cry.

I'm trying. I'm ignoring phone calls and not making a huge effort to set aside time, but I can't seem to find it in me to make that oh-so-necessary cut. Even though I know I'm probably going to end up hurt again, I know it'll be less of a burn than it was the first time. I just don’t feel the same as I used to and to tell you the truth, I have no idea why I’m hanging on, or rather, waiting to be dismissed. I also know that it sounds pretty fucked up to basically admit that you're aware you're choosing to stay a part of something that is doubtlessly going to fall apart, but that's just the coward in me talking.

I wrote an article about it. Its current placement isn’t bad considering it’s a load of emo bullshit, but I won’t be surprised if I’m asked by the site administrators to cancel my account for breaching the unwritten DON’T WRITE LIKE A SELF-PITYING PIECE OF CRAP part of the contract.

On that note, one day I hope to have the password-protected entry option set up on MT for posts like these.