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Simon had realized quite suddenly that he was yelling at Nils. It was almost as disconcerting and disturbing as the fact that his friend was still considering following through with his plan to meet up with Ambrose. He'd turned on his heel and left - conflict unavoided, conflict unresolved. He felt like crap. Even better, he'd come back to the room only to realize that he'd left Chrys's computer hooked up again, and it was past 10:30, and 'this little light of mine' had been playing.
Usually he appreciated the reminder of just what all they couldn't afford to forget, but tonight it was a little much, and he'd jabbed the power button in frustration rather than shutting down the machine, or even the program, properly.
He considered whether he should say anything to Connir, or talk to Ronnie, but instead he sat hiself down at the hotel desk where Nam lay open on the desk, raven eyes peering out at him from her perch on top of the open web browser window. She squaked as he closed the window, chasing his cursor playfully as he opened Open Office. After a few minutes of watching the blank page, he let whatever come out of his mind spill across the paper.
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So here I am, trying to move forward with my life. It’s a good direction, but we don’t seem to be getting along. I like to think of myself as pretty relaxed, but that has not been the case of late. I don’t like confrontation, but I find myself in confrontational situations, sometimes of my own making. It’s kind of scary. Why am I doing this? I don’t enjoy it, it doesn’t help anything. It’s just draining. It’s not the right direction for me. But there is a balance I have to find, because some discussions are worth having, and some debates are worth having, and even some arguments. But yelling at people?* Since when? Since when am I that angry? That tense? Oh, if I only didn’t have an answer for that…
There are a lot of things going on in my life right now. One of the results of this is that I’ve been pulling away from people. Up until a few weeks ago, I was heavily involved in a variety of communities, mostly online. But I can’t make commitments, and so… I step back. I’m not reliable anymore, and that changes things. Sure, there a lot of my friends who are concerned – they know something’s up, even if I’m not any more forthright with them than anyone else these days – but there’s also the few who come back with accusations instead. ‘Oh, I guess we’re not your *real* friends after all. We’re not important to you, I see how it is.’ Maybe they’re being egotistical douchebags, sure, but it still hurts. There’s also the ones that can’t accept that just because I’m here *now* or here this week, doesn’t mean that I’ll be there next week, or next whenever. They want to plan for me. And I want to be included. Some of this, quite honestly, feels like cutting off an arm.
It feels like the first step in giving up on a normal life. I don’t know. I feel like I can accept that I’m not going to have one, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try. The responsible part of me, however, is winning out with the reasonable assertion that it is better not to put myself in a position where I’m going to wind up breaking commitments and leaving people hanging, because that’s a kind of uncontrolled break that I don’t want. If I can’t have normal, I at least want some friends who are normal to live through vicariously, and I tell myself that this is what I have to do to keep them.
It still sucks. It makes me angry. Vicious circle is vicious.
*Sorry, N.
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He stopped, after a while, and looked it over, scowling at the words. He was still upset, but he knew he'd regret posting anything that personal - anything that emo. It wasn't cathartic, it was embarrassing. This wasn't livejournal.
Still, he hesitated a moment before deleting the entry, and felt a little guilty once the deed was done. A dark voice in the back of his head told him because he wasn't going to have the balls to apologize to Nils any other way. But he would. He would have to. Move forward.
For now, he moved his attention to somethingawful, fark, and slashdot, browsing the various threads and discussions as other thoughts percolated. Later, he would give another shot at turning out something something he could be a little more proud of.
Usually he appreciated the reminder of just what all they couldn't afford to forget, but tonight it was a little much, and he'd jabbed the power button in frustration rather than shutting down the machine, or even the program, properly.
He considered whether he should say anything to Connir, or talk to Ronnie, but instead he sat hiself down at the hotel desk where Nam lay open on the desk, raven eyes peering out at him from her perch on top of the open web browser window. She squaked as he closed the window, chasing his cursor playfully as he opened Open Office. After a few minutes of watching the blank page, he let whatever come out of his mind spill across the paper.
-----------------------------
So here I am, trying to move forward with my life. It’s a good direction, but we don’t seem to be getting along. I like to think of myself as pretty relaxed, but that has not been the case of late. I don’t like confrontation, but I find myself in confrontational situations, sometimes of my own making. It’s kind of scary. Why am I doing this? I don’t enjoy it, it doesn’t help anything. It’s just draining. It’s not the right direction for me. But there is a balance I have to find, because some discussions are worth having, and some debates are worth having, and even some arguments. But yelling at people?* Since when? Since when am I that angry? That tense? Oh, if I only didn’t have an answer for that…
There are a lot of things going on in my life right now. One of the results of this is that I’ve been pulling away from people. Up until a few weeks ago, I was heavily involved in a variety of communities, mostly online. But I can’t make commitments, and so… I step back. I’m not reliable anymore, and that changes things. Sure, there a lot of my friends who are concerned – they know something’s up, even if I’m not any more forthright with them than anyone else these days – but there’s also the few who come back with accusations instead. ‘Oh, I guess we’re not your *real* friends after all. We’re not important to you, I see how it is.’ Maybe they’re being egotistical douchebags, sure, but it still hurts. There’s also the ones that can’t accept that just because I’m here *now* or here this week, doesn’t mean that I’ll be there next week, or next whenever. They want to plan for me. And I want to be included. Some of this, quite honestly, feels like cutting off an arm.
It feels like the first step in giving up on a normal life. I don’t know. I feel like I can accept that I’m not going to have one, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try. The responsible part of me, however, is winning out with the reasonable assertion that it is better not to put myself in a position where I’m going to wind up breaking commitments and leaving people hanging, because that’s a kind of uncontrolled break that I don’t want. If I can’t have normal, I at least want some friends who are normal to live through vicariously, and I tell myself that this is what I have to do to keep them.
It still sucks. It makes me angry. Vicious circle is vicious.
*Sorry, N.
--------------------
He stopped, after a while, and looked it over, scowling at the words. He was still upset, but he knew he'd regret posting anything that personal - anything that emo. It wasn't cathartic, it was embarrassing. This wasn't livejournal.
Still, he hesitated a moment before deleting the entry, and felt a little guilty once the deed was done. A dark voice in the back of his head told him because he wasn't going to have the balls to apologize to Nils any other way. But he would. He would have to. Move forward.
For now, he moved his attention to somethingawful, fark, and slashdot, browsing the various threads and discussions as other thoughts percolated. Later, he would give another shot at turning out something something he could be a little more proud of.
