Fewer Words For You.

As I was writing angry words in a top secret, highly classified,
invisible notebook he called. It was 9:44pm. What are you doing he
questioned. Reading, I lied and I'm not sure why. Can I come over, he
asked. Sure, but I'm not getting out of bed. I guess it had been a
week, I guess people have needs. The obviousness of his request did
not make me more angry, just relieved that I could avoid the pretense
of conversation that a normal date would have required. I did not feel
love, just sleeplessness. At some point I felt like crying
uncontrollably, not about him, but about so many other things. I felt
slightly triumphant, proud that I had managed to slice whatever
attachment my mind had convinced itself existed. And of course things
are different now. A barrier between then and now has been erected and
there isn't any turning back, which is why I wished and hoped he would
not say those words again. He didn't.

Sure, it is slightly sad to deny yourself the experience of emotion
but when the end is clear and definable, doing so makes things much
more manageable. It is disaster management and I am a professional
just ask my best friend. He tells me I have no emotions, no
conscience, no guilt, no anger and I wonder if he says those things
because he believes it or if he just wants me to believe it so he can
take advantage of my nonchalant attitude towards everything. Oh and he
does. And in moments of weakness I realize how it can eat away at my
insides until I'm not sure if there is anything left at all.

I had a strange strange dream in my sleeplessness last night. But all
I remember was someone kept saying, we were supposed to be the smart
ones and this somehow made me uncontrollably happy. As if the notion
of failure, as suggested by the insistent use of "were", was a
blessing. How nice it would be for people to have no expectations for
you. How nice it would be to wake up each day for yourself, and not
for other people who have placed some sort of stock in your prospect
of succeeding.

This boy, he said the funniest thing this morning. He was mad that I
had stolen all of the blankets. I told him he didn't look mad.

I'm good at hiding my emotions he retorted.

I could only laugh.