Listen lady,
I will prove to you that even in these dark and desperate depths of winter there is still hope for the new. Hope for the future is essential. Stay in St Louis for New Years, and we will meet up. And I will provide you with all the hope and whiskey rants you'll need to get through and over this jackass who is ignoring you.
Love,
K
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
sobriety up and left
Dear K-
He hasn’t kissed me since the day we met. I have an awful habit of pursuing those whom have no interest in me. Perhaps he doesn’t find me physically attractive, or perhaps I bore him. I’ve seen the way his eyes get dull when I try to tell a story or relate a facet of my life. He hardly spares a kind word my way beyond his usual ribbing. Why do I continue to waste my time and energy on unhealthy pursuits?
I have no reason to be so melancholy about such frivolous affairs. My mother writes to tell me that an old acquaintance has died. She pleads with me to come home to attend the funeral, but I can’t bring myself to leave this city. I spend the afternoon alone in my apartment, drinking whiskey and wondering what keeps me here. Is it the possibility that he may call, may suddenly change his ways and invite me out with him? Or am I simply avoiding the depressing task of having to confront mortality. Memento mori. Once they told me I had two weeks to live. Sometimes I am reminded of that fact when I feel my heart go faint in my chest.
So why am I still here, drinking manhattans by myself in a lonely apartment and waiting? I shake like a willow whenever I hear my phone ring. Every year seems to end the same way- with a buildup of hopes and wishes for my social life to succeed, and then every year it comes crashing down like the ball in Times Square. I have yet to have a “good” New Years Eve. For 2012 I am not holding my breath.
I am going to leave tomorrow.
-K
He hasn’t kissed me since the day we met. I have an awful habit of pursuing those whom have no interest in me. Perhaps he doesn’t find me physically attractive, or perhaps I bore him. I’ve seen the way his eyes get dull when I try to tell a story or relate a facet of my life. He hardly spares a kind word my way beyond his usual ribbing. Why do I continue to waste my time and energy on unhealthy pursuits?
I have no reason to be so melancholy about such frivolous affairs. My mother writes to tell me that an old acquaintance has died. She pleads with me to come home to attend the funeral, but I can’t bring myself to leave this city. I spend the afternoon alone in my apartment, drinking whiskey and wondering what keeps me here. Is it the possibility that he may call, may suddenly change his ways and invite me out with him? Or am I simply avoiding the depressing task of having to confront mortality. Memento mori. Once they told me I had two weeks to live. Sometimes I am reminded of that fact when I feel my heart go faint in my chest.
So why am I still here, drinking manhattans by myself in a lonely apartment and waiting? I shake like a willow whenever I hear my phone ring. Every year seems to end the same way- with a buildup of hopes and wishes for my social life to succeed, and then every year it comes crashing down like the ball in Times Square. I have yet to have a “good” New Years Eve. For 2012 I am not holding my breath.
I am going to leave tomorrow.
-K
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Get Wherever We're Going Before Me
Dear K,
My life isn't the great romance I thought it was going to be. I have all these quiet moments of loneliness and doubt. I've spent the last couple of weeks going through the motions. Working hard, eating frozen dinners, taking long baths and reading books I've read a hundred times. Some days I don't talk to anyone, except for the odd manager at work who comes over to ask how I am doing.
Oh, but then there are those nights. Those cold frozen nights when the stars come right down to our feet. Our breath hangs just above our heads, stopped by the cold, afraid to get too far away from us. That's the sort of night I like best, quiet, still, and cold. If there was a God, I would think that he spent a lot of time in a quiet still cold place before he made the world. It is the walk from your car to the party. All your friends are waiting and you know you'll have a good time and smile and tell old stories and make new memories, but there is that moment out in the cold, when you see them all inside together and they look complete without you. In the cold air you can hear their voices echoing. That moment is bliss, simple melancholy bliss. It is the clarinet's glissando at the start of Gershwin's Rhapsody and it is melancholy Shostakovich violin, calling out to the future.
When I see you in two weeks, not even two weeks, I will fill the room with my laughter. I will burst the joints at their seems, and we will tell stories and make new memories, if we feel like it we'll dance. But do me a favor and get wherever we're going before me.
Yours,
K
My life isn't the great romance I thought it was going to be. I have all these quiet moments of loneliness and doubt. I've spent the last couple of weeks going through the motions. Working hard, eating frozen dinners, taking long baths and reading books I've read a hundred times. Some days I don't talk to anyone, except for the odd manager at work who comes over to ask how I am doing.
Oh, but then there are those nights. Those cold frozen nights when the stars come right down to our feet. Our breath hangs just above our heads, stopped by the cold, afraid to get too far away from us. That's the sort of night I like best, quiet, still, and cold. If there was a God, I would think that he spent a lot of time in a quiet still cold place before he made the world. It is the walk from your car to the party. All your friends are waiting and you know you'll have a good time and smile and tell old stories and make new memories, but there is that moment out in the cold, when you see them all inside together and they look complete without you. In the cold air you can hear their voices echoing. That moment is bliss, simple melancholy bliss. It is the clarinet's glissando at the start of Gershwin's Rhapsody and it is melancholy Shostakovich violin, calling out to the future.
When I see you in two weeks, not even two weeks, I will fill the room with my laughter. I will burst the joints at their seems, and we will tell stories and make new memories, if we feel like it we'll dance. But do me a favor and get wherever we're going before me.
Yours,
K
broadripple is burning
Dear K-
I faded with the winter, once again. I spent endless hours in miserably mainstream coffee shops, nursing expensive yet unsatisfying quantities of coffee while hammering my brain senseless with the accumulated knowledge of an entire semester. It was lonely and I'm not sure how many more weeks I can spend in such a state.
But now I'm at break and just as lonely. So does it really get any better? No. The answer is no. I'm too busy shunning society during the semester just so I can eek by with satisfactory grades that when I finally do come to a period where I do have time available for socialization, no one is there for me. And so I get up in the morning and go to work, come home and night and watch television until I fall asleep, praying the next day will bring more adventure, friends, excitement, but knowing deep down that it won't ever change.
One of the doctor's I work for has a laugh like yours. I realized it the other day, when he found a patient's comment humorous. It's that same spontaneous guffaw, a hearty deep chortle that rebounds off the walls, feeling much too large for such a little space. Just a few loud barks and then back to silence, with a wry grin remaining upon his lips, still slightly parted from the effort. It reminded me of you.
I hope you are doing well these days. I know I shouldn't be so low, that I should move on an find happiness where I can. But sometimes we all just feel a little at a lost that all our hard work in one aspect of our lives leaves the other sectors withering away.
We can never have it all.
-K
I faded with the winter, once again. I spent endless hours in miserably mainstream coffee shops, nursing expensive yet unsatisfying quantities of coffee while hammering my brain senseless with the accumulated knowledge of an entire semester. It was lonely and I'm not sure how many more weeks I can spend in such a state.
But now I'm at break and just as lonely. So does it really get any better? No. The answer is no. I'm too busy shunning society during the semester just so I can eek by with satisfactory grades that when I finally do come to a period where I do have time available for socialization, no one is there for me. And so I get up in the morning and go to work, come home and night and watch television until I fall asleep, praying the next day will bring more adventure, friends, excitement, but knowing deep down that it won't ever change.
One of the doctor's I work for has a laugh like yours. I realized it the other day, when he found a patient's comment humorous. It's that same spontaneous guffaw, a hearty deep chortle that rebounds off the walls, feeling much too large for such a little space. Just a few loud barks and then back to silence, with a wry grin remaining upon his lips, still slightly parted from the effort. It reminded me of you.
I hope you are doing well these days. I know I shouldn't be so low, that I should move on an find happiness where I can. But sometimes we all just feel a little at a lost that all our hard work in one aspect of our lives leaves the other sectors withering away.
We can never have it all.
-K
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