This is horrible.
Ever get someplace in your mind and get so angry at it that you say a meaningless phrase over and over again, and if you say it fast enough, maybe you can forget why you were getting angry?
Yeah. It doesn’t work.
My eye hurts so bad.
It didn’t hurt earlier, even though it has a bloody spot in it that wasn’t there this morning. I told her about it and I think I said it wrong. I secretly wanted her to feel sorry for me, and instead she told me I’d probably be fine.
You know me. Finding nothings to be a baby over.
I’m only a little mad that she knew I was doing that. Pretend-mad.
It was that damned paper that’s got me agitated. I picked it up at the wrong moment, when all I wanted was to lessen my pile of scrap papers by one, and have a double-folded cheapy coaster so that I wouldn’t feel bad about setting my glass of water on my backgammon table (that was why they got it for me, right? because I used to like to play backgammon? who plays that anymore?).
It was from a story I wrote, and it was a bad page to be reading when the other me was already getting antsy and telling me again and again that we need to go away (we can’t, although we are interested to discover that it’s only a three and a half hour drive), and all wild-eyed and triumphant because he’s still got something of the vampire about him…needs blood and all of that, and is (I hope) done groveling at a pair of impassive marble feet now that he has it.
But that’s all a different thing. That was my own fault.
This, however, is the universe spitting in my face, as it is wont to do every single time I think I am done.
Still…it was like talking to a stranger in some ways.
She sounds different. I listened for over an hour to a voice that was suspiciously familiar, except that now I hear the accent. I swear it wasn’t always so pronounced. You’d think I’d know what I was talking about—it was my favourite voice for so long—but maybe not. I wouldn’t trust me.
I mean, I still sound the same, and it makes me want to kill myself. Why the hell should I still be sounding that way? Why can I not stop myself?
And I could have brushed all of it off and not posted insensible garbage (as opposed to the kind you can understand) if I just didn’t pick up that page and read it while I was talking. I wish I didn’t. I wish I didn’t feel all those italicised words about a situation that is so, so far removed from me that it’s ludicrous to feel anything at all about it…but I feel them. I still do.
I wasn’t expecting to hear anything at all. I panicked for a minute and was listening to my voicemail in the office. It was…nothing? I wasn’t expecting an answer today, or to hear back after he got home.
I have not been important for a long time, and I know it makes me sound selfish, and I know it’s incredibly stupid, but the only ways I have been able to cope are to pretend I don’t care, and stop making too much of an effort. I can’t bear the silence if I don’t make myself do these things. Can’t.
The story ends with a turned off cell phone.