Love is a dangerous, dangerous game. A game that none of us can resist playing. We meet someone, we start to talk to them. Things go really well. Then you find yourself falling head over heels into an unknown abyss called love. That fall is, usually, terrifying. Being scared isn't the worst part of love though, the worst part is when it ends. Although it is not certain that it will end, it very well may. A good movie (Hotel Transylvania... Hehe) once taught me that you only "zing" once. Not sure what that means, but I guess we'll all find out someday, I hope. I personally don't fall in love often, but when I fall, I fall hard. Maybe I'm just picky about who I love, maybe I'm messed up. But love is love, and I can't stop it, neither can you. Love is a dangerous game, and we all lose a few times, and take a trip through the magical "Game Over" signs on our way to the "Cupid Health Clinic", but in the end we win. And what a great, great victory that shall be.
Why is everyone so afraid of blame? We avoid blame, and clammer for credit. We take the blame, and give the credit. We depricate and inflate. We're little balloon people. One day we're slipping through the grate, the next day we can't fit through the door. Depression is a nemesis, it's not a biochemical flaw. It's garbage you forgot to take out. It's a dentist appointment when you haven't seen a dentist in a decade. If we take the blame, eventually we can take the credit. If we credit the blame we'll give the credit. Fuck. That makes no sense. It's confusing. But it's not my fault. I have Confusion. It's not my fault. Confusion is an illness. It's genetic. My parents were confused, too. Both of them. I give them credit, though. They didn't blame me for their confusion. They gave me credit for blaming the disease. But, now, that makes no sense, either.
The longer we drove the more we became lost. The trees grew thicker and the road became thinner. We had driven too far this time and we had taken way too many detours. Even if we decided to turn around and head home, we would've still been lost. We had no idea where we were going. The plan was to take the truck out for a simple spin but we didn't expect the countryside to be this big. I told my friend who was driving to ask for directions but he refused. I looked at the signs on the road and told him he was going the wrong way, but he didn't listen. There was no way we were gonna be able to find our way back now that it had gotten completely dark. So we just slept in the truck until the next day I found myself on a hospital bed, severely injured. Luckily, my friend was ok and he seemed really excited to see me for some reason. He said he was so happy they found me alive after all this time. I looked at him confused and asked him what happened to us after we got lost. He then looked at me confused. "Us? You mean to tell me, the day before you suddenly disappeared you were with someone else?" I told him he and I were taking the truck for a spin and we got lost, but he said he couldn't recall that ever happening.
You wrote a song once, about sitting in parking lots. About being young, drunk, and alone. About friendship and sadness. About the youth that we all have to leave behind. We talked about it one night, and you came to see that that song meant a little more to me that you'd first expected. I'm not sure if you were surprised because you can't fathom me feeling that way, or because you simply thought you were the only one. My life has changed, and the wild winds of my youth have blown me in all directions. I'm not a kid in a parking lot today, but sometimes I wish I still was. There's a certain kind of simplicity in the silence, a certain kind of understanding that comes from that kind of sadness. I told you I'd never want to go back to those days, but I think I was wrong. I sit alone still, older, in my own space, drinking tea, and stress is still tugging on my face. And in these quiet moments, I wish I could go back to those moments, if only to see if I could meet you there.
I don't need you to fix me, and I know that you don't want me to try to fix you. You get scared when I forgive you for things that you can't forget. And I do the same when you say things that remind me how much more you understand than most people. We could talk all day about how we're just too gnarly on the inside for the world. We understand each other because we both feel the same nagging sensation that we don't deserve the love we receive. We love each other anyway. We comfort each other because we both feel too complicated to be understood. So we're spontaneous and complicated together. We talk about it rather than pretending it's not there. I don't think I could ask for more. We're just holding hands while we fix ourselves.