Stop Me

How important is it to you that you talk to someone on a daily basis? I mean more than just the inane chatter you find at work or at home. I'm talking about real conversation. Talk that means something.

Am I the only person who seems to need that on a daily, or at least a regular basis? Why doesn't the human interaction I get at work and the little I get at home provide at least a little satisfaction? Why doesn't quench some of the thirst I have for human contact?

I guess it's because I've always held my close friends higher than anyone else, including my family. If I don't get to see my close friends on a weekly basis, at the very least, I get depressed. It doesn't even really matter all that much what we do, as long as I'm there with them.

I've gone off on a slightly related tangent. Yes, having that time once or twice a week to be WITH my close friends is extremely important to me, but I'm talking about something a little different. I'm talking about my interaction with them between the weekends, in the days where we can't hang out together. Am I the only one who needs something there, something small but real, to make the week bearable? I can't be, can I?

It takes effort from me, real effort, not to send messages and call people every day of the week looking for conversation. I know no one wants to hear from me so much and I know I'm doing more harm than good just by trying to contact these people as much as I do, but not trying is unbearable. Simply unbearable. I'm driven by hope. Hope that someone will talk. Hope that maybe they will make me feel less lonely. Hope that they can make me happy.

But that is a lot to place on the shoulders of others, especially when they are my burdens to bear. I will never be happy with simple conversation, but that won't stop me from trying. From hoping.

I guess the best thing I can do is to stop. Stop messaging. Stop calling. Stop asking. If people want to talk, to hang out, to see me, they'll ask. The more I ask, the more my heart is torn by rejection.

And it's no one's fault but mine.

But Not Really

I wish you were a terrible person. That way, not talking to you would be easy.

"Just a Dream"?

Eyes heavy and muscles waning, I dragged myself into bed. Surrounded by darkness, sleep's warm embrace came easy. But it did not hold.

Back and forth I tossed in the night, deep slumber never taking hold. Frustration mingled with weariness, resulting in desperation. Desperation for sleep. For an escape. But then, amid the turmoil of sleeplessness, somewhere in between waking moments, I dreamed.

Of you.

Though it was only for a moment, I wouldn't trade that moment for the world. You were so beautiful, so stunning. Almost as beautiful as you were when I saw you Saturday morning. Somehow, in jeans and a hoodie, you stand out like a diamond amidst coal.

You know what you did in my dream? You did what I cannot. You did what I have been trying to do for so long but have found myself unable to. You did the one thing I find myself trying to do each and every day. You simply asked a question. And I answered. Such a taste of happiness I may not know.

I awoke.

My first thought was of you. Happiness filled me and reached for my phone. I had to tell someone about this. Reality hit like a brick wall.

It was just a dream.

It wasn't real. It never happened. You never asked your question and I'm still the coward who will likely never ask you.

Closing eyes now filled with tears, I turned over, trying to forget. Maybe my next dream would turn out to be real.

Damn, you're beautiful.

Forgotten Already

That was fast.

Good Times Had By All

I haven't posted in a while so I might as well do so now. I'm at work and it's a fairly easy night so I have to fill the time somehow. Good thing Johnny's not here. He'd be making me work or something.

As I write this, it's 2:15 Friday morning. It has taken it's sweet ass time getting here, but having finally arrived, the little stress from the week is all but gone. But despite being a long week, it was a surprisingly good one. Starting Monday, I've managed to read a lot more than I've been able to and since the book I'm reading is amazing, it did wonders for my morale in general.

On Tuesday I received a surprise Christmas present: a 5L mini keg of Heineken. Fantastic. It takes forever to chill but it's Heineken. It's worth the wait. For once, I'll have something to serve the guys when they come over this weekend.

On Wednesday I got my annual review at work. This being a public forum, I can't give any specific details, but it was the single best review I've ever gotten. Working nights, I've gotten used to doing a butt load of work with little to no recognition from any day staff or managers but knowing that my glowing review was not only approved, but agreed with by upper management completely made my week.

Thursday brought a nice surprise in that I got to see a friend of mine whom I haven't seen in a while. It's honestly astonishing how much people can take for granted the once or twice a week they may see a friend. And that helped me realise how lucky I am to have the close friends I do and the frequency in which I see them.

Friday brings payday. Not the biggest and best thing by far to happen this week, but it is a highlight.

Saturday should bring friends and laughter which, despite the good things that happened to me, were seriously lacking this week. Oh, and beer. And xbox. And who knows what else.

Everyone reading this is officially invited to my house Saturday, whenever you feel like coming. Good times are to be had by all.

Again

I don't want to be me anymore. I'm tired of it. No one likes me anyway. Even my closest friends, despite their words, can only take a little of me before hating me and moving on. Maybe someday I'll be a better person. A likeable person. Until then, I guess I'll just wish it.

I Feel Like a Carebear

I forgot how to hug you. It's the dumbest thing to forget how to hug someone, I know, but our hugs were always different. I can't believe I forgot.

Hugs are a simple but good thing. They are an easy way to show affection. Not necessarily romantic affection, but the affection between friends. They're a physical representation that we like or love someone, as well as a symbol of our respect and admiration of them. I realise I'm putting a lot of weight behind such a simple gesture but this is what I have found hugs to mean. A gesture of love.

But our hugs were anything but simple, weren't they? I wouldn't say they were romantic. No, they weren't that. But they were more than friends showing care for one another. After a hard week of work and school and the various problems life brings, when we finally embraced on Sunday, everything just stopped. There was no stressful job to return to tomorrow. There was no paper due much too soon to be finished properly. There was nothing but you and me, holding so tight it was sometimes hard to breathe.

And that's partially what I forgot. Not only did I forget the physical way we hug, which is different than the way I hug anyone else, but I forgot the emotional way we hug. I forgot how it felt. I forgot how it made me forget all the shit. I forgot.

Heh heh... I made it awkward on Sunday, didn't I? You're so small and I leaned down to hug you like I would hug anyone else but you pushed past my faulty gesture, wrapped your arms around me and squeezed, your head tight against my chest. In all honesty, I was surprised at that and for the briefest of moments, I didn't know what to do. Then, like a rush of water, it came back. My arms went around you and I squeezed back. Our embrace didn't last as long as they used to, but it held just long enough to know that it was more than just a hug. More than just two friends showing care for one another. It was weighted with memory. With every hug we've ever shared. With every chance meeting of our eyes resulting in laughter. With every sick call I made so we could spend those summer evenings sitting in the grass or in the swings, pumping our legs to go higher and higher.

I forgot how to hug you. It's the dumbest thing to forget how to hug someone, I know, but our hugs were always different. I can't believe I forgot. But you reminded me. You never forgot, it seems. Thank you. Hopefully, this is the start of something good between us. At the very least, it's the restart of the good we once had.