More of the same in Adjunct to 8/9/2013 flash friday; a trinity of flashs

I didn’t really give up much on my trip with my friends. I was thinking too much about events and how little those would mean to y’all, both present and past. My relationship to the past events … huh, I put in the elipses because I stared so long at the blank page I became self conscious. It felt good to go with my friends to these places to recall not large memories but small ones. The one was best man at my first wedding the other played the music, all three of us got blind drunk together the night before and hopped the fence at the mens intermural building on campus to go swimming. We didn’t talk about any of that. Small things, small and broad. My relationship to my friends is stronger than to the places and events.

It’s been bothering me for the past few days. I’m not sure if women in general know this about men in general, but men in general lean towards much more sensitive and fragile feelings. If you are a woman and you’ve been married to a man or two or dated him long enough to know you know this about that guy. Or about sixty percent of the guys. If you’ve had sons and daughters you’ve gone through the break of their first love, girls are very demonstrative, boys, demonstrative or not get cut a lot deeper.

We didn’t talk about romance. I guess I could tell a tale but it wouldn’t sound credible; I would tell it in such a way that it wouldn’t sound credible and pray that you thought I made it up. I’m not going to do that. We each we there when each of our hearts were broken. We weren’t there, or I wasn’t here, when it happened again. I think that’s probably an important pattern. None of us went into this life for a the money. Huh. I wanted to type that sentence, I’m sure there’s a better way of typing. Our motivations and goals haven’t been about money, not attempts and failures, just a completely different path.

Off track again, carbon monoxide stays in the cells for a long time; I don’t know how badly I was affected. I don’t trust the doctors here and doctors anywhere would do a bunch of invasive tests and then say “yep” or “nope”. The most disturbing symptom that is probably from the exposure is I’m not tracking well. It’s scarier to think that might not be from carbon monoxide poisoning.

Over the years I’ve spent a week or two here, when the kids were young it was more frequent, that’s why my daughter wanted to come live here. It took her a few years to realize … I don’t know what she realized but I’m glad she’s back home. Um, shit. I had visited and often reached out to one of these guys or both (the one has always lived here, the other was gone for a long time and out of touch). The trip Sunday was the most relaxed and honest our conversations have been since we were kids. I hope the adventure was meaningful to them; it was to me because of them not because of the places and events that used to be. And I’m a nostalgic guy. I don’t cry at weddings or funerals or anything, but I remember the details.

Again, much time between this paragraph and the last. I was reincarnated twice. Being a grasshopper was kind of fun except this one asshole ant kept calling me a cricket. I don’t know what I was talking about before and if I read the shit I won’t post it and though it probably won’t mean anything to me in a year, um, a month, probably a week, it’s a document of sorts, a personal history. Maybe not in content but it speaks to the state of mind of the defendant. Wait. The plaintiff.