Burying dead things
It’s been an odd week.
Some relatively recent friends (formally) exited my Venn Diagram while others came back for a visit.
Years ago, the Devil told me, “We’re not friends. We’re friendly, but we’re not friends. There’s a difference. Don’t get it twisted, kid.”
Found myself saying
similar those exact words to someone else at a Japanese restaurant this past week and – for a moment, at least – I was my old self again.
Me: For what it’s worth, it was mature of you to reach out to me to talk. I never woulda myself because it’s not in my nature.
Him: (slowly nodding) I only know you after Alison…died. I’m still getting used to who you really are.
Me: Gotta be honest, I don’t care. But, FWIW, our interests are aligned: What you want and what I want are the same. Let’s just get the job done. Whatever personal feelings we have towards the other are irrelevant. (later) To be clear, I felt I owed you a debt. I consider the debt paid – in full. I don’t owe you shit. But, it cut both ways, you don’t owe me shit either. I just wanna come in, do my shit, and leave. We’re both professionals, let’s act as such.
Him: As skilled as you are with a knife, you cut better with words than anyone I know.
It was perfectly eloquent and cruel, but I suppose it was true and I deserved it.
After all, he’s right. I’m ever the skillest with my sharp objects, the killest with my blunt instruments.
Fuck it. I’m getting tired of apologizing for and hiding who and what I am.
A woman I dated briefly dropped me a line earlier this month and then again this week.
She made me laugh.
And then Rain hit me up to chat about stuff. Oddly, someone just asked me earlier today if he and I were still in contact.
There’s definitely something weird in the air. In any case, it was good catching up with him.
Me: Jesus Christ – you have hair! And it’s grey!
Him: Man, you look exactly the same. I can’t believe you still have all your hair and it’s black.
Me: I’m as surprised as you are.
We got onto the topic of buying some grass-fed beef together because…of course we did.
Weirder still, a girl I met on the train three years ago randomly dropped me a line recently as well.
What on earth is going on?
It’s was Pac’s birthday this past weekend.
Had a hangover for the first time in over a decade and a woman there broke my heart with a question I had no answer for.
Maybe I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.
Maybe not. Y’see, I’m trying to bury dead things, as best I can…
Location: earlier today, my kitchen, baking two dozen cookies and a pan of lasagna for my favourite tiny human
Mood: Same as the song
Music: Well, fuck ’em, fuck ’em, fuck ’em all (Spotify)
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