I hung out with Tim today. It was your typical: "wanna head out" sorta deal. And since the topic of my current housing situation did not pop into the conversation, I did not bother to to offer up the subject. Out of sight, or of mind, well at least his.
He was in a good mood and was rapidly telling me about his promotion. I just didn't have it in me to lay this on him. I know had I, he would have tried to help. And at the very least offered a couch, but his place is maxed as it is. As a friend in return I know better. My mess, not his.
On a lighter note, since we had no plans, we went to The Meadows. Yeah, I wasn't keen on the idea. I'm not exactly in a fiscal position to burn cash for the fun of it. But I have nothing but time, and a mere five bucks won't break the bank just yet.
Part of me wishes I had been firmer about going in his car. Although I had just tanked up, I really wasn't thrilled to see my gas being chewed through. But if the past is any indicator, when possible, alternate transport is preferred if Tim and I head out on a random adventure. Even if this time we didn't cross any state lines.
Ah, The Meadow, so classy... Strike that. It looks almost like a Phipps Conservatory made out of opaque beige canvas and fiberglass The place is being housed in a glorified tent. It looks part circus, part Ali Babah, part soft-serve ice cream - minus the curl at the top. And all the gimpy spots were parked-up. So, like I said, I got a good look at the place on the approach.
It looks decent on the inside. By that I mean, "Off the Strip" Vegas style. Where the locals, not the tourists, burn their pay. You are there to spend not mouth-breathe and look at all the things that sparkle; there are none. The carpet is busy, the ceiling is bare black, the air is hazy and the machines are loud and bright. Oh the fun of it all.
Old people. So many old people...took all the damn cripple parking! It was a sea of blue rinses and turkey necks. Standing at the end of a row, I had this really creepy sensation. Seeing every stool taken by those 70-some and above, each with their player's club cards pined to the shirt and stretching into the machine in front of them. It was like a flashback to the Matrix. As if the machines kept them alive, tethered to the through those springy white chords. They live only as long as they continue to play and pay. Or is it the other way around? Where they really Borg!
Then I plopped down next to Tim at a mid evil-themed video slots machine, plugged in my own player's club card, and feed it my money. Ah, I was now part of the Collective. Oddly enough it sorta felt good. Mindlessly pushing "bet" over and over.
Ironic, given the circumstances, that luck was actually with me. I cashed out with around $100 from that first machine, after only playing the five I had limited myself to. Feeling much better for the time being, I took $25 of that as my new limit, and pocketed the rest. And while I lost the whole of that new spending cap, I still came out ahead.
It is always good to have a little more "cash on hand". As long as I kept my self control, I can make my funds last. While I wont starve, we had Chinese food after the the slots parlor, I may just loose some weight. What can I say, I still have a nagging habit of looking for the bright side. So maybe I am nuts.
I never seem to sink into the red with Tim, I was up $70 last time too!A major point hit me right after I posted my last entry. I can be as bitter and depressed as I want, but the fact remains that I am in no position to actually pull off any sort of relationship. Then again I have never let logic get in the way before, but it still sits there like a devil on my shoulder.
Over the last day I have played the game that titles this post. Not that it has done me any good. Although being intro, and retrospective is never a bad thing. In thinking "what if" I have come across two or three brief spots where I could have had a chance. Missed opportunities to go after what I wanted. I clearly had an opening, but I passed the door up.
Once again I only have myself to blame. Fear and lack of faith in one's self played major parts as always. The fear of loosing what you have in the attempted of going for the bigger and better prise. Even if what you have is so little and unfulfiling, past the physical, as to be pointless. Let down by the urge to remain safe, I suppose.
Then the major clawing thought of inadequacy. That I could never be enough, or be all that he wants. And while part of that rings true, in that, no one person could ever fill every need of another, which is a glaring fact in his case. It seems more like a shadowed part of the cripple psyche. Broken from the get-go; imperfection as a standard feature.
But none of this severs any purpose other than to depress and distract me. And I think thats why I find myself bothered by it. One, for all of it's meaning, and in some ways it is an expression of rejection. But more, it is a diversion from the greater issues that have been clouding my life for years. Even during the times when I thought I might have had a chance. So even then the prospects would have been murky, no matter what I tell myself now to boost my spirits
In the end I have to let go and focus. But even though I know that is what I have to do, I find myself fighting the idea. Otherwise obsessing over things which I have no control. Maybe the very idea that I had a chance is just another lie. One made to comfort myself and move the the sideshow along its tracks. Still an atrophied part of my heart says otherwise.
Maybe some people just aren't meant to be happy. Just to get by how ever they can, and hope it works out in the end. Sitting here, wishing I could see the future - distracting myself, yet again.
By whatever means - usually means troubleOne day shy of 10; I guess nothing I do comes out even. But here ends the active Road Notebook. Not that the story is over - far from it. Just that for now I'm no longer on the road. I may not have had a laptop with wireless access, but I did have the old-school pen and notebook. So posts from the time that fills day 3 to 8 are on their way.
Who knew that an upheaval in life can spur the urge to blog? But that is a side note to this odd day, on which, I returned home. But it is not that event that I wish to apply over-wrought text to. That will have plenty of page space as I figure that out myself.
But rather a phone call I received, not that long ago - mere hour or so. The Crush finally called back. I call him the Crush, because at one point he was, and to some extent still is. Also due to the fact that part of me feels rather foolish for feeling this way in the first place. I should have know from the beginning that no matter how close I could get he would never really be within reach.
None the less, he got in touch after along stretch, not without my rather consistent txt-ing of him. But I can get away with it, for the most part. Since, I have settled for a friendship, after it was pretty much made clear that there could be nothing more. Sometimes you just have to take what you can get.
So while it was good to hear from him, what he had to say wasn't exactly uplifting, at least for me. He is dating, and more than that had moved in with the new beau. A lot seems to happen in the periods of radio silence that pass between us. And while I'm happy for him, I also can't help but hate him just a tiny bit.
This after recalling rants about how dating is pointless. How while he likes guys, he is still drawn to girls to an extent. How he doesn't see himself with a guy in the long term, as he would see the same situation with a girl. Borderline bi/gay boys seem so much more trouble than they are worth. Mentally one way, physically another. But there he is, doing all the things he railed against.
I can't begrudge him happiness. My place as his friend, in whatever capacity that is, I have never really seen where I fit in - but thats another issue, wont let me. I guess it comes down to the fact that you never really totally get over a crush. Once you have had any sort of taste its hard to let go. Then there is that tiny amount of guilt you feel for wishing that you could insert yourself into the competition's place.
But I really shouldn't be surprised, as I noted at the start, nothing seems to fall even around me, by my own doing or not. Two of my friend's lives are on highs as mine plumbs new lows. If anything, at least I can see the irony, and it wont get the best of me.
So I have my phone call, no matter what the content, at least he still called. Now if only I have the will to not txt him anymore, well at least the non-pestering kind. As it is considered the general rule that friends back off a new-ish relationship. Although this is more to prove a point to myself. That he still thinks of me as a friend without occasion reminder of my cellular existence.
Yes, its is selfish, I don't deny that. But it may be what I need to finally let go of the Crush. To know that there is no longer a space where I used to fit into his life, if I ever did, not just in passing.
To think I thought I had a shot after running into each other four years ago, after passing each other in the halls long before that. Yet another reason I think fondly of October, not just for Halloween. All the time we spent hanging out in the months that followed - although looking back, that might have not have been for the best, as I sit from this perspective. Oh well, as they say, the past is the past.
So here's to seeing things happen that you thought, or in some cases - where told, never could. Some things are just out of reach. In the end I guess you just have to settle for an obstructed view sometimes, rather than no view at all. Time to take another cold pill and cry myself to sleep.
Is there such a thing as bitter happiness?