Library

I went up the stairs in the library and the security guard walked up. She said, “Hello?” As if it was obvious that there was nothing for me up there. I went down in the basement and there was a bathroom. She said, “Only the first floor is the library.”

I said, “Well it’s written on the whole building: library. I didn’t realize.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“Thank you,” said I.

Habits

Can’t I just make up my mind to feel the way I do when I tell the truth without actually telling the truth? 

Hell doesn’t seem like a bad place. Can’t I stay a little longer?

I texted a million people this morning. I still feel lonely.

If I work hard and focus, I can get my life on track. I don’t need to actually tell the truth, do I? 

I don’t need to face myself, right? 

It’s her fault, isn’t it? It’s not my fault.

It’s not my fault, right?

Where’s the bottom of this fucking quicksand anyway. 

Relaxed

My wife said yesterday that I looked good. She said I looked relaxed. And I guess I did look relaxed. One time, this guy said I looked I was being consumed from within.

I feel many positive emotions just from the little bit of honesty I’ve been able to achieve so far. I feel more powerful and effective. I do feel more relaxed. My head feels more spacious. 

But I’m still really scared of confrontation and the things that I’ve decided to do. I don’t know if I’ll ever actually go through with the scariest confessions. But I’m sure the stronger, future me will be able to handle it. Right now, I still get sick thinking about how I’m going to break it to my bar manager that I don’t want to go hiking with her ever. That’s a weird situation that’s been on my mind as a kind of test for myself. It’s my wife who really doesn’t want to go, but I’m tired of blaming shit on her. And if I think about it the only reason I would go hiking with the bar manager is because she keeps asking me. So you see when you think about it I don’t even know what it means not to want to do something. I’m so used to doing whatever I have to do to avoid disagreeing with someone. In the past I would just make something up, like a heart condition.

So yeah anyways for the most part I feel pretty relaxed. 

Dark Part 3

Click here to start at Part 1

Why couldn’t I leave my wife and do whatever I wanted? I wasn’t strong enough, that’s why. I had never really broken up with anyone, and I had also never really had a confrontation with anyone, thanks to my uncanny diplomatic abilities.

And so that meant I had to make it seem like I was a good husband. I had to do everything I could to make her happy, and besides that I had to avoid having a fight with her. I couldn’t stand to fight with her, and besides, I had nothing to say to her in a fight. I had no will of my own. Why should I have an opinion when nothing can be proven or disproven.

So we had no fights, except the ones over my drinking, which was out of control. I would drink and not text her because I didn’t want to have to fight about it and I knew if I texted her I was drinking she would say something snarky and then if I got drunk enough I would drunk text her a long nicely worded ‘fuck you.’

But those were our only fights and we didn’t delve too deep into why I was drinking like that.

So with no fights our relationship didn’t really grow much from when we had started. I was a different person than the guy who started dating her years earlier, but I acted the same towards her, only now I drank.

Since I was too weak to break up with her, I had to maintain some kind of normalcy, even though I had these self destructive urges. I had to keep them in check. So I resented her for that, but even then I knew she was kind of keeping me alive.

Now, looking back, it’s crazy how my whole life seems to have revolved around women. I guess that’s not very original, but I didn’t see it coming.

Anyway, I guess that’s what I’ve got to say about that. I am ready to have real fights and really get to know her now, and hopefully one day I will be strong enough to tell her everything that I ever hid from her. As for now, I’ll just do my best not to create new things to hide from her. 

The girl with whom I was formerly obsessed and I still hang out and talk. It’s possible I made up her reciprocation of my feelings for her, but even if I didn’t I haven’t given her a reason to feel heartbroken if I never make a move or tell her how I feel about her. She is smart enough not to trust married men, I’m sure.

Interlude

When two guys are walking together and one guy is listening to his headphones near them, those two guys are friends and the other guy is an enemy. When two guys are alone and listening to their headphones and walking down the street near each other, they aren’t enemies or friends. When two guys are alone and listening to their headphones and they attempt to use their metrocards to gain access to the subway and they are both rejected by the same turnstile, they are friends. 

Interlude

I didn’t smoke weed, and I didn’t drink, but under the fluorescent lights of Canal Street Station I feel like a thing that slithers. Somehow my fingernails got dirty. I was walking with the girl who I was formerly obsessed with, and I was telling her what I thought was a very interesting story. What I know was an interesting story, in fact, from her gasps every time we hit a pivotal point. And then, in the middle, we ran into some old friends of hers she hadn’t seen in a while. She’s from here and she’s popular, so this happens a lot. There were eight of them. Normally I would just smile and shake everyone’s hand and all that, but I just couldn’t give a fuck about these people and how they knew each other and anything like that, so I stood off to the side and waited for her to ask for her bag so she could go with them. I enjoyed the breeze and I checked my phone. Finally she called me over and her friends were like wtf why are you just standing over there! Meanwhile she had just asked minutes ago why I never do what I want. So that was the thing I wanted, to not talk to these people. I was really fine with her leaving with them, very convenient escape for me, but I did not want to meet them all for no reason. But I did anyway because what kind of asshole would I have to be to hand her her bag and say goodbye and nothing else. So I shook hands with every single one of them. There were people she didn’t even know and I shook hands with them, too. One guy said now repeat our names back to us. I said, I value you guys as people but I don’t have a memory like that. Everyone thought that was funny. You had to be there. So now I look awesome. From weirdo to awesome in sixty seconds. After five excruciating minutes where everyone tried to pretend that we could have an inclusive conversation, they ask what’s up next. I hand my friend her bag and say goodbye, shaking hands with enthusiasm and warmth and real kindness in my eyes. Eight people I will never see again, now they all have a piece of my soul. The train just won’t seem to arrive.