Things...and an Apology

I’ve had a lot going on lately. I have struggled through a painful and ridiculous visit with my estranged father, who I guess isn’t entirely estranged…except that he…is. I have had to deal with the prospect that I may never see my grandfather again and in the process had to deal with my grandmother’s death all over again, and I have felt abandoned and looked down upon by one of my best friends. All of this combined is enough to drive me crazy…and it has a little.

I’ve been having dreams about people from my past. They are haunting and they leave me feeling hollow and then I wake up and I think about all of the stuff going on and I feel so NOT hollow that I want to scream. I don’t. But I want to. I have tried to give myself time to think. Time to marinate in what is going on around me. Time to really consider why I am so angry at everything. And I came to a conclusion.

I am not angry at everything. I am angry at me.

I have spent my life playing escape artist to my feelings. Allowing things to brush by unnoticed meanwhile growing harder and colder and more detatched. Do I want to be those things? No. But the alternative is too hard.

The alternative is owning up to things and being an adult. I was dishonest with someone very dear to me recently. I was dishonest about something that he is probably aware of now and would explain his distance. What I did was not morally unsound or manipulative or hurtful. It was just something that I withheld. And I withheld it from someone that I never withhold things from. But I thought that if he knew, things would never be the same. And when I think about it now, it wasn’t even worth any of the effort and it was so short-lived that I can’t fathom why I did it in the first place. And now I feel like a first-class asshole.

I can only hope that, if he knows, (which I am sure he does) this is not the reason for his distance. I hope that life got in the way and he just hasn’t had time. I hope he thinks of me fondly and I hope there are no hard feelings. I hope that he picks up the phone.

I miss you…and I’m sorry.