Is there a word for it, when you suddenly become hyper-aware of a thing, and you start to see it so much without consciously looking for it that you begin wondering if those things were always there, and you just never noticed before?
I would like for that to be a thing. Then I could blame that phenomenon, rather than enduring the creepy feeling that the universe is conscious of my thoughts and is fashioning these things to happen in response.
What a stupid way to think of things.
But that is my natural tendency. And yes, yes, I know. It’s not logical.
Except where interaction with other humans is involved, because then I am always wondering…did I introduce this element to our interactions? If I did…why did you so readily pick up on it? After the initial introduction, why do you choose to keep furnishing our interactions with this thing?
Because that is how it works, I think.
I quietly introduce a thing because I cannot help myself…and then it sticks. It sticks and then I have to just keep wondering if it’s me…or if it’s you. And if I caused it. Or maybe I only think that I did.
I do not know.
I want to see Toni again soon. I messaged her, but have not heard back yet…still have her Christmas gift to give.
Think I will try and write K an email and then sleep. Because I have not written to her since…October? Because I am a poor friend. Or I have been since last Christmas, when my Aunt died. And I didn’t want to email her about it–but I did. I wanted to SO MUCH–because I felt like a terrible person.
I still do.
Let me say why now, since I have put off saying it for over a year.
Just before last Christmas, my aunt was very suddenly diagnosed with advanced cancer. And at first, we thought she would have a few months, and that she’d be able to leave the hospital and go home for a time. And I said I would see her when she went home, because I cannot endure hospitals…I panick. I have since I was a tweenager.
But…things didn’t turn out so well, and she did not get to go home. Months got shortened to weeks. And then days. And I went to see her twice. One time alone, and once with my sister. I did not want to set foot in that building. But I did.
And during my second visit she had been mostly asleep, but when I went to leave, she woke up a bit, and hugged me goodbye. And said that she loved me, which I could not recall her ever having said before–as a whole, my family does not voice this sentiment often–and I told her I would be back to see her the next day after work…
But I did not go.
I think I worked, but then I needed to take Christmas gifts to my fiancé’s house, and I wasn’t going to have time to do it again between that day and Christmas…so instead of going to see her, I went ahead and took the gifts to my fiancé’s house, and I went home after that because visiting hours would have ended by then…
I should have just gone. Because the day after that was Christmas Eve, and I worked during the day and then saw Jester and his parents again that night.
And then there was Christmas, where I did things with my family at home and then had to hurry up and go to work that evening…and I knew my schedule wouldn’t let me go to the hospital the next day, but I would try to see her before I saw Jester for his birthday–the 27th.
But that did not happen.
Because the day after Christmas, I was super busy, bussing theatres and cleaning up after stupid people who have no consideration for others…and there was a radio call that I had someone at the theatre to see me.
I said I was busy and they would have to wait a while.
The guy who radioed me radioed again and said that it was important and I should come over to the service counter NOW.
And it was my dad.
And he told me my aunt had died.
And that they wanted me to know before I saw my older sister had posted about it on Facebook (because sometimes she doesn’t think about these things…).
And I have been berating myself ever since, because I lied to my aunt. She was dying and I lied to her because I had other things to do and I did not go see her.
And I could not listen to Christmas music this year because that is all I can think about when I hear it…about what a liar I am. And about whether my aunt was aware enough to wonder why I did not come back. And to wonder whether she had hoped to see me again.
But I had other stuff to do.
…this post has gone far off my original thought.
And now I am weeping.
But really though. I need to email K. Because I have told her about my aunt. And now I have told you.
…and now I must email her and tell her about the other unthinkable thing that I allowed to happen last year. Because that is the only way I can talk to her again…by confessing these stupid things. And she knows that…or she did…has known. That this is how our friendships work. She runs her projects and ideas by me, or tries to try them on me…and I accept this. So that in return, she will allow me to unload the ridiculous paranoia and gnawing guilt.
It’s just been worse than before, this year. Because until this year…it was always things that were in my head. They could only get me. But now it’s been other people…that I lied to or that I allowed to be hurt because I had other things I was thinking about, and did not stop long enough to weigh whether or not those other things were the important ones.