Escapism

Dear K,

I wish I could laugh for you. I'm face with a crisis myself. Today I thought about the pointlessness of existence. I was in training for my new job, which I'm going to abandon in a few months. Everybody around me was talking about their weekend where they drank away last week, and about the basketball games. They talked about the commute to work. They talked about their children. Everyone was wearing khakis. We're learning how to take insurance payments for things that people own. My coworkers are working to afford more things to own so that they can insure more things, and I just don't want to live in a world where I'm concerned about the next paycheck because I have to buy more khakis.

But I need these people. I need them to buy what I want to sell, even though it isn't for them. They aren't my demographic. This sounds arrogant, but I'm too smart for them, all of them. I'm too smart for the whole god damn building of them. I am surrounded by people blissfully floating along in their lives. We're having a food day on Friday. Everyone is very excited about it. Do you know what a food day is? A food day is a rebranded potluck. Every person with a slight ethnicity is implicitly expected to bring their style of ethnic food. In my training group that is a sushi, even though the person isn't japanese, and then there's also one person who's supposed to bring "something from south of the border". Everything else will consist of cheese, potatoes, chicken, cheese, bread, corn chips and cheese. Every hour and half one of my new coworkers excitedly asks me what I'm planning to bring.

The walls are painted bright colors, and our cubicles are collected into groups named after bodies of water in Iowa. There are only two natural lakes in Iowa. There are four lactation rooms on every floor for new and expecting mothers. The walls next to the elevator are red and have a texture that reminds me of either waves of grain or ice on a frozen lake. On Fridays we can donate a dollar to charity for the privilege of wearing jeans. This is a very important thing. All these details make my days fade to grey already.

I don't want to live in this world.

I was happier when I was depressed about not having a job.

I won't laugh for you today, but it will be warm soon, and I will break free of this styrofoam prison and out into the sunlight.

Meet me there under the trees with green on their leaves, and we'll walk in dreams and the fogs of early evenings and wine.

Until We Meet In Sleep,
K

anxiety is cheap

Dear K-

Concentration is far from consistent. It has been a week now and still my thoughts drag in the turbulent eddies of last weekend. There is no shaking the sense of loss. I live in a big, empty apartment that echoes loneliness at every foot fall. It seems I can’t even sit to attempt to work or study without my mind drifting to try to fill those hollow spaces with some memory of him or a dream of what could have been. I try to keep my lips firm and appear to the public unscathed. Today is has rained all day, but it is fitting with my mood so I don’t mind it.

I hope you are doing well. Your life is full of opportunities galloping before you, fluttering and glittering with such excitement. I am happy to hear of your potential and the fact that you are progressing forward. When you make the big move, you should call me to tell me how it all goes. Moving to a new city and into a new life can be terrifically thrilling. I wish you all the best.

I haven’t heard much in terms of my emotional progress. Just a gentle plea to be patient and a vague reassurance that all will be well. I want it to be well, I do. But the insecure, vulnerable vein, a marring flaw of my character, insists that this all can only lead to disappointment. How long does one wait for an answer before the realization sinks it that the answer may never arrive? It has only been a week…but it feels like an eternity on this weary heart. I think I’ve lost weight, if nothing else. The stress provides a terrific diet regime.

Hopefully, if he does return, he will recognize his love. She’s grown pale and thin and dyed her hair to match the blood that still flows sluggishly in her arteries. Will he be able to accept this skeleton once more? Or will he see the damage and flee?

Laugh for me.
-K