I remember getting mad at you for things you couldn’t control. I was so naive back then and so were you. I remember when you told me you couldn’t be there for me and I took it personal. I realized later that it wasn’t personal, but the way you treated me made it feel like it was. I was an afterthought in your day, and you could never care for me the way I needed. The way anyone needed. I was an inconvenience to you, and you taught me to keep my feelings to myself. Yet another thing I’m unlearning.
You were never an inconvenience to me, and that’s what made me bitter for a while. I cared for you, I cared for our friends. I was bad at showing it, sure, but you couldn’t deny the love was there. Or maybe you could, you always had this picture of me in your head. But it wasn’t me, it was someone else. Someone that looked like me but acted on their rage. Like I was out to get you. And maybe that wasn’t my fault, maybe that was your own inner demons telling you I was bad for you. Either way, we parted ways and I know it was for the best, but I can’t deny I miss it.
I don’t miss much, but I miss it. I don’t miss the arguments, I don’t miss the gaslighting, I don’t miss pushing the blame. But I miss the jokes, I miss the closeness. I’ve been alone so long; I can’t remember what it feels like to know someone else cares. I imagine it feels warm. I imagine it feels like a blanket that just came out of the dryer. I imagine it feels like the sun against my skin in the summer, and the wind against my face as I’m driving.
This isn’t a love letter; I don’t want you back. I don’t want any of our old friends back. I just want you to know I’m not angry anymore.
It rained on the day we went up to the mountains. It rained and we stayed in our car for the most part, eating takeout from a nearby restaurant. We planned to eat it by the waterfall, but our sandwiches would’ve been soggy. We sat parked on a cliff-side, overlooking the mountains, the greens and reds and oranges and yellows of the treetops swaying gently with the breeze. We sat silent for a while as we took in the overwhelming feeling, the largeness of it all. We ate our takeout, but we didn’t feel worthy to be there in all the beauty. This moment was bigger than us. And I remember you said quietly and defiantly, “Someday, this will be home.”
It’s my last week of this class starting today! Week 8 of 8. I’m not sure how I’ll do in this class since most of the work to be graded is last week and this week and my teacher hasn’t graded last week’s work yet, but I’m probably going to pass.
I’m liking my new job so far. It’s pretty easy and I get to listen to whatever I want while I work since I’m mostly alone. I’ve been listening to a lot of podcasts. They calm me down when I get stressed out, which is nice. It’s something I never had working retail, they always either had no music playing or some generic radio playing and it was always some song I’ve heard a million times and never liked. And it’s nice going to these nice houses for a couple hours and just zoning out. Cleaning has always helped my anxiety, so it makes sense I’d like it.
After work, I’ll be going over a friend’s house and we’ll be watching a show he got me into while we have a couple beers. It’ll be nice. Hopefully work won’t tire me out too much.
Last Thursday, I went to a concert with my best friend and this song I’m recommending today is one that they (my favorite band) played that I nearly cried at the show. It’s called You in January by The Wonder Years: