Negativity

Someone "told" me that a downer friend is no friend. That's bullshit. Fuck you. No warning, no comment, no constructive criticism. And you're supposed to be my friend.

Oops. Guess not. Guess I'm not good enough, or "up" enough, or positive enough.

Well, that's fucked up. You're NOT my friend. Maybe you never were. A friend pulls his buddy up.

A friend sticks around.

A friend announces when, how, and why if he needs to protect his boundaries. A friend who has sensitive boundaries shares them and asks his friend not to cross them. He doesn't just watch as they are crossed and then halts the friendship.

So, yeah, irreparable damage. I thought you were family. I thought you were around for a lifetime.

But, alas, you're... nothing but a girl. You leave for no reason. You leave when I actually need you. You leave when I believe you'll never ever leave, when the cynicism gives way to faith.

You leave. I come last, a footnote, a forgotten memory, a faint image, like a grainy vision or a distant shoreline in the fog.

You leave. And like all the other girls, I shall go on without you. I shall relish in my transactional relationships, whispering my negativity to the permanent record of the googlebot, alone with my superficial friends and the contracts they come with.

You will be added to the long list of people that left me for no reason. Who left me simply because I was me and shared all. Who promised and betrayed, who earned my trust and faith only to squander it, who, well, can suck a dick.

--

So, um, yeah. I miss my friend. But, frankly...

Fuck you all. Bitches.

--

PS This is for you, too, Ayla. Your paradise is never coming.

sigh

"The thing is, it's NOT that bad for me. It's NOT that bad to have mediocre sex with some random chick and feel slightly conflicted about her nuzzling up to me afterwardss. It's NOT that bad to smell her hair, and, instead of feeling a sense of home and completeness, try to determine whether it's Biolage or not. It's NOT that bad.

Because, you see, unlike you, that's better than normal. That's better than I've had in quite some time... maybe ever. It's not a step down or backward to have a fake sense of intimacy with someone like it is for you. It's a step up."

(said to a friend of mine recently when he expressed confusion at my contemplation of having a one night stand on my birthday. I didn't, btw.)

--

I went to a party tonight. I saw an old friend I hadn't seen in a long time -- a friend of the roommate of the girl who invited me (also an old friend). We went full circle... I knew Carlos, who knew X, who knew Y, who knew Michele, who rooms with Danielle, who is my friend. Six degrees, full circle. Nice.

It was good to see him.

D is Texas' older sister, though, and I found myself staring her straight in the face when I went to the rest room. I was up there, along with a dozen other smiling faces I knew all to well. And I missed. Not her, really. I missed being there, feeling her, feeling me feel her. I guess I missed feeling.

I stared at her, and she wasn't the little girl I remembered. She wasn't the memory of a memory I have. Nor was there an emotional response.

Just missing what it felt like to miss, maybe.

--

I got invited out on a boat ride tomorrow night. Perfect spot to seduce some little girl... invite her out, have some drinks, hang out with rich people, imply that "all of this can be yours if only [you can hold on to me]", then take her home and fuck the shit out of her.

And I thought about who I could invite, and I thought about how a good night's sleep sounds so much better.

Then I thought about just posting a unicorn ad on craigslist. Like an ad for an employee, only for a girlfriend.

"Must be emotionally available, be able to load weights on a leg press machine, witty/intelligent/educated, and 25-30. Pick any two. Me? I fill out your Cosmo quizzes nicely and your mom will like me."

Somehow I think I'll get a few fat chicks replying on an ad like that and nothing more. Quoth the Quagmyre, "hey, fat chicks need love too!"

Sure. Just not on my watch.

--

So, yeah, I'm sad tonight.

--

Oh, hey, Presh wrote me back. "Loved your email. Thank you very much."

Uh huh. Sure. I pine over you for a decade and that's what I get? Heh. She processed for a week and wrote THAT on my friggin Myspace comment/wall. Sheesh.

('sok. I wasn't expecting much more than that.)

--

Falling asleep. My melancholy will have to wait.

P.S.

If you happened to donate semen to my mother roughly 31 years and 9 months ago, I DON'T appreciate your call.

I deleted that message before the third word was spoken.

Frankly, if you would just hurry up and die, the world would be a better place, and four people I care deeply about would all be happier and healthier. I'm one one of them.

Go find your place with god. 'cause you ain't finding it here.

I sent it

"I've been wanting to tell you something for... oh I dunno. Over a decade?

(It's my birthday, you know, and I'm feeling sentimental. Go figure.)

You already know. I know you do. Just... I love you. Always have, and always will. Maybe not romantically, maybe not anything any more than at a distance, maybe only when songs from 1995 come on the radio, maybe only when I see popcorn ceilings and remember sanding yours with you and Amy, maybe just the random what-if and the little smile that comes up when I see a message from you on my birthday.

When you showed up in town last autumn, I didn't dare admit it, not to myself, let alone anyone else, but seeing you made me so very happy. I held my breath when you came in the room and (please don't tell) cried when you left.

Let's just say I wish I could have a coffee with you anytime I wanted. One day, a long time from now, I'd very much like it if the people we are now (and will become) could be friends again like we were then... taking time for granted, loving without knowing, knowing without feeling, not even realizing how innocent we were, nor how much life lie ahead, nor just how valuable those few short experiences were.

Until then, just know that someone, without contention, sans any selfishness or motive, loves you and wants you to be the very best person you can be -- happy, healthy, loved and in love, hopeful and content, joyous and awe-struck.

Promise.

May the world be your oyster and your soul be complete.

Always,

(alfie)"