Sometimes you spiral. That’s just what you do. You take a smidgeon of some fact or truth or omission and fan the tiniest doubt until it catches on the tender of your mind. So why would you do this? Why?
And sitting across that table, I am struggling with all of my might. Mutely and obsessively, I remind myself that I am being too critical……that I am looking for a grain of sand in my shoe. That I am just playing a role (part) in a self induced game of fucking insecurity. That everything would be ok if I just let (what you would call madness) it go…..if I would allow myself to believe. So outwardly, I am a little off kilter as I attempt to prevent my soul from being ripped apart under the surface. Maybe I am a little too quiet and a little too serious, but my battle is directed inward and I don’t even posses enough strength at the moment to lash out even should I desire to do so. It takes me a while…..I have to breathe…….I have to force myself to relax……to believe I will not be disappointed should I drop my guard and expose the tender belly of my soul. I finally gather the strength or maybe it is the will to open up…..to share my pain, and my thoughts, and the battle that I am fighting at the moment. To seek understanding and protection, and believe it or not, maybe just a little admiration for the fortitude I apply to my struggle.
But you can’t. You just can’t put your fucking cell phone down. You just can’t bear not to glance down at that screen which buzzes so lightly and blinks so warmly as it beckons for your attention. I mean for fuck sake…..it is just a moment……I mean everyone can multitask……of course, I am still listening….you know you have my undivided attention. And I almost collapse, because I can’t breathe. Because through all of this bullshit smoke and mirror language, behind that uncomfortable little guilty smile that’s saying who me?………come on Jeff?, as the vulnerable words literally begin to be expelled from my lips (as they drag the pain and insecurity and doubt out of my soul) and I finally convince myself to trust and believe again, your actions can in no way be denied. And all of my raging insanity and doubt and pain and loneliness sink heavily and securely into another foothold of truth. And the craziest fucking thing is you might still doubt my thoughts or shall we say……my interpretation. But as my lips close along with the gates of my soul, I sit quietly and watch intently with wonder and frank amazement, silently praying (almost begging a non-existent God) for something to prove me wrong…….for God’s sake, I so want to be proved wrong. But I already know this will never happen. You transition from your phone to a big screen TV that sits on the wall wearing the image of your favorite show without hesitation or recognition, smiling all the while. You speak to me about the show and how fond you are of said show, never missing a beat.