I have to call you and when I do there is a silence, a pause, and a gap. The distance, as they say, is palpable. Maybe we do bad phone. We have not really had to master that skill. Fortunately. Maybe it is the holiday hub bub. Yours. We have no hub and the bub was put on a plane already. So it is just me and I am flying solo over here. Is it resentment because I said I would stay here? Are they giving you slack for that decision? You mention it briefly, saying she should understand that I should be there. But that is it, nothing more and no more insight. So I am left guessing and grasping. I turn into a wild suspect. Crazy voices in my head. Looking for words inside yours. Meaning in the gaps. You joke that there were women, roadies. But I can't tell if it is a joke. Because of the distance I begin to assume it is not. At least not a very funny one. I feel like my ideas and conversation are rebuffed with one liners and those bad jokes, second to, "I don't knows" and immediately followed with "gotta run". Since there always is something and it is worth running to. Or maybe I am worth running away from. See, see how far it has gone; there is running. That is what happens when you are gone and I am alone. And my friends live in my head. I guess I am not really alone after all, they are here with me. Spewing crazy ideas, but they are here. Yet I have grown used to the non-alone. Rather quickly. I am not talking about the good times alone. This, this is alone. In a big rambling house with two dogs. And rain. I go to the gym and begin to think of myself as single. Not just because I am alone, but because I feel alone. The distance wears me down as I press on the treadmill. I feel it in my bones as I pump the stationary bike. Not just the physical but the absence of us and a feeling that you are here. It no longer feels like a you and me. It is you and then me. Sometimes you versus me. Certainly not a we. The we is the girls and I. And they keep poor company. They don't laugh at my stories and they refuse to hold my hand, angering that I am even touching their paws. Both are picky with their paws. I am left along holding my own. Reflecting back to what I said, if I did something wrong, who she is, or if I can detect when it will end. Because it will end. You will grow tired and it no longer will be okay. At least that is what I rationalize as I tuck myself in and turn off the light. A good night to me, my loneliness, and my friends - the crazy voices in my head.
Labels: Mr. Magoo
-
Ally said:
Isn't it crazy how our thoughts can get away from us--if we start to go down that path? Hope that tomorrow is a much better day.
- 9:21 PM
-
JustRun said:
Don't you wish there was just a switch to turn it off? Drives me nuts, those rambling thoughts.
- 6:03 AM
-
anne said:
Am much better this morning. The crazy left with a good night sleep and perspective.
- 7:04 AM
-
megabrooke said:
I'm glad you're feeling better today. I forget whether it was here I posted this before, but I once took a seminar called "change your inner talk, change your world"--it was wonderful. talks all about those crazy, toxic voices and then the good ones too. hang in there!
- 8:57 AM
