ON BALANCING MY QUARTER-POUND HEAVYWEIGHT — With 3/4 Pound’s Worth of Lightweight ;0)

Reflection from July 19th, 2008 @ Age 27

RE:  KEEPING MYSELF IN WRITING SO AS *NOT* TO LOSE MYSELF IN LIFE.

Well I told Bobby that being friends was okay, but to stop saying shit like “I miss you” and “I wish you were here” to me because it’s confusing.  Hah!  I also told him I’m bipolar and that my medications cost me $1,500/month, and that the reason I smoke pot is so that I don’t feel like I have to cut my skin open to get some relief.  And I also told him that I’m sorry I didn’t call him way back when he was in town for the alumni basketball game, and I told him it was because I was in a suicidal state.  Suffice it to say, I think I scared the living daylights out of the poor boy.  I don’t know why with Bobby, but I always have felt this overwhelming compulsion to tell him bits of the truth, piece by piece, one after the next, just to see how much he can actually take.  Seeing as though he’s a lightweight, though, I have a feeling I won’t be hearing back from him in any substantial sort of way again.  I thought it only fair though, in his wanting to be my “friend”, to share with him my ugly truth.  Isn’t that the test of a true friend, my friend?  To share your ugly truth and hope to high hell they love you anyways, or even more provocatively, that they love you all the more.  I don’t think that Bobby is my friend.  I don’t think he loves me more in light of my ugly truth, I think he runs for the hills like a little girl who’s just been frightened by a spider.  Like I said, he’s a lightweight—aside from getting himself arrested for transporting pounds of weed at one time with intent to distribute, his life’s been an utter fluff-a-by.  I at once hate him and understand him for leaving me be.  I’ve not much more to say on the subject.

Is it no wonder, though, that I find it difficult to get “close” with people?  I find, fundamentally, that I very much so have a reason why it’s difficult to get “close” with people.  My reason is my ugly truth.  People want lightness and happy-go-lucky, they want funny and witty but they do not want heavy or dark.  I cannot share myself with most others because they will run like Bobby does, far far away from the darkness that is my life.  People don’t want to be close to me.   They think they do because I’m beautiful, but really they’ve no idea.  And it’s only to my chagrin that I would let another in only to see them run away when my truth is revealed.  People don’t know what they’re talking about.  The Dark Knight was phenomenal and it fundamentally makes me ache that Heath Ledger is dead.

Later

Well I was wrong, I called Bobby last night and said if you still want to get together on Saturday (today) then we can, and lo and behold he called me back today and we’re meeting at Easton.  It was his idea to meet at Easton.  I guess we’ll have drinks, maybe eat some dinner, then say goodbye (forever).  If nothing else it should be interesting to report back how the situation goes.  I’m nervous to be around him though, so it will truly be an exercise in acting this evening to see how not-nervous I can actually appear to be.  I don’t know why I feel like I have to be something other than myself.  I think it has to do with the fact that I have shared many personal things about myself with Bobby, and that I am ashamed of myself in many ways when it truly comes to letting others in, and hence I want not to sit in the uncomfortable silence of truth but rather to revel in the comfortable drone of falsity and lies.  Anyways, I think I am going to head over early and study for the bar exam for awhile, that will be good.  Then if it’s awful we can get some food and say goodbye.  If it’s not so awful then we can linger a little.  It’s not like I’ve never been on worse dates before and this isn’t even a date!  Really it’s just that I admitted to him this week that I had feelings for him and he told me he didn’t feel the same way (though I’ve already told you what I think about that), which makes things weird.  And then what’s also weird is that, umm I don’t know, I told him basically that I’m miserable in life right now and that I’m bipolar and fucking crazy and that I take massive amounts of medication to be “normal”.  Speaking of medication, I’m already late on it today.  Better get a move on.  I’ll be back to report tonight! 

Thoughts?

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