A couple hours after writing the last entry (which, after some thought, I also emailed to Zardoz since we’ve been talking about relationships a lot lately), Zelda told me they—as in, her and Zardoz—are moving to Denver at the end of September.
And boyyyyyyyy howdy did I react in a way I didn’t expect.
I’m not really one to react when friends leave. I just… I don’t know?? It’s not that I don’t like people or care about them, but I’m just never married to the idea of them being around. And I don’t really feel like I need my friends to be PHYSICALLY AROUND to enjoy our connection.
This time, however, I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. A loud “WHAT???” at my screen that was thankfully either unheard or ignored. (I talk to myself all day, it would be absurd to acknowledge it every time.)
And I cried. Instantly and repeatedly for the rest of the afternoon, oscillating between silent leaking and quiet sobbing.
“When this is over” has been everyone’s 2020 catch phrase, hasn’t it?
When this is over, we’ll both be so bad at bouldering but so ready to go back.
When this is over I can’t wait to hang out in dives and people watch with you.
When this is over, maybe we can both work on expanding our dwindling social network, build a community again.
But when it’s over, they won’t be here anymore. None of those things will happen. When this is over, I’ll be more alone than I’ve been in years and I honestly didn’t expect to care because Alone is how I spent many many years of my life, but it turns out I don’t like it anymore and I’m scared of it this time.
Me: “I’ve outsourced all of my emotional needs to my friends.”
I want to make it very, very clear that I don’t blame them at ALL. I’m so fucking excited for them. They’ve been sick of this town for years, and just haven’t found the right time or right way to get the fuck out. I know they’ll be happier there. And this is not just me convincing myself to not be a selfish prick; I GENUINELY FEEL HAPPY POSITIVE THINGS WHEN I THINK ABOUT THEM STARTING A NEW LIFE. And I am also so, so much more devastated than I expected to be.
I was supposed to go on a walk with Zardoz on Saturday, but within minutes of waking up I was already crying again, so I asked to reschedule.
I spent my morning listening to Modest Mouse and watching Mr. Rogers clips, which is absolutely not a good way to pull yourself together. More bouts of silent sobbing, probably up until noon when my mind finally balanced out.
If I’d seen Zardoz when I was that upset, he would’ve been totally awesome and supportive and kind and I would have felt better.
But like. They’re starting a new life. They’re excited. They’re terrified. They’re sad about leaving. I have no desire to add “abandonment guilt” to the mix by being a moist-faced mess in their presence.
But the fact that I COULD have seen him when my shit was all fucked is the reason this hurts so much, because I don’t have that with anyone else. I have coworkers who would be supportive, but there is no one else I feel COMFORTABLE being this way around, and soon that will be gone and it fucking sucks IT FUCKING SUCKS AND I’M SAD.
I’m grateful I started getting my shit together a month ago. I’m grateful I started moderating substance use, sleeping more regularly, exercising more often, and generally taking better care of myself than I normally do. It means I’m more equipped for this than I would’ve been mid-June. But I just wish I could have had, like, a month? Or two? To just… exist? To just reap the rewards of giving a shit about myself and making the effort to pull out of the ever-deepening hole?
But that’s 2020, y’all. One thing after another, no respite, no solutions, gotta just keep slogging through. And it’s been easier for me than almost anyone and this is just how it fuckin’ goes and I’ll be fine in the end, I’m always fine in the end (lol lol lol lol lol butt stuff).
Welp, I think that’s a good enough place to stop.
BUILD A LITTLE SHRINE FOR THE DEAD
by Kimmy Walters
I don’t use crystals because they’re magical but because they’re cold and heavy, oh,
I put a jar of honey in the middle
I don’t claim to know what I’m doing
and I don’t believe in
I do believe certain people are there right now
who am I to
expect a logical grief
nobody that’s who
oh, billions and billions of years
is it worse if we invented sadness or if it was
here all along
waiting for the earth to grow a creature
capable of detecting it
Last updated August 03, 2020