It's Me
There’s really no shortage of people that I could talk to. It’s just that there’s one person in particular that I want to talk to, but that no longer seems to be an option. I do not fully understand why that is either. I could say that the gulf between us has grown so wide and so deep that if we tried to meet half way, we both fall to our deaths. Which is a lovely mental picture, but ultimately, I think it’s really just me.
Let me tell you a little about me. On Monday morning I got up and fixed myself a typical breakfast. I sat and stared at it for a minute or so wondering, “What am I supposed to do with that?” The obvious answer would be, “Eat it,” but first I should pray and it is also my habit to read the Bible while I have breakfast. Well, I honestly did not want to do either of those things, so I decided not to eat either. I plastic wrapped the whole mess and put it in the refrigerator, and did not eat anything the for rest of the day. Sometimes I get carried away when trying to make a point. I’m not even sure what point, or to whom I was trying to make it in this case. It’s just an example of the way I’m wired- everything has to be just right, or else I reject it entirely. All or nothing, no compromises.
It must be maddening trying to talk to me. I tend to answer all personal questions in one sentence or less. One word if I can get away with it. Unless of course, they are “yes or no” questions. I hate “yes or no” questions. I try to favor vagueness over outright lies, but you never know.
It’s not like I would ever take a single step out of my way to make a conversation happen. Everything has to be “just so” naturally, remember? And even when they do, I’m not ready. I can’t help it if even when you ask the right questions, all I get in my head is a stream of pictures and not a single word. I so desperately want to share it all, but no words come. And all I can do is watch as the gulf grows wider and deeper. I wish it were not so, but as they say, wish in on hand, defecate in the other and see which fills up first.
The rational part of my mind is sickened to be permanently attached to such a whiney little snot. I would gladly leave me behind if I had the chance. “So long chump, I hope you get what’s coming to you.”
Some say that I’m harder on myself than necessary, but they don’t know me like I know me. Besides, there’s no one else here to blame.