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Baltimore Absurd |
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Baltimore absurdity by Richard Hoffman Contact: rhoffman@suckme.com |
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December 2004 August 2005 February 2006 |
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Wednesday, December 01, 2004 |
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The semester is almost over. I relish in the fact that I may have passed one, if not both of my classes. At the very least, school has kept me busy enough to not blog.
Alright. It isn't schoolwork keeping me from pouring my feelings out into cyberspace. Howevermanydaysago, my "ex-friend" (term used recently by my boss) Justin seemed to waft back into my life. Not much unlike the smell that a septic tank gives off in the middle of summer. Its midnight. I'm watching a fascinating docudrama on British royalty when the phone rings. Being the pessimist I am, I figured someone I knew was in a car accident or similar catastrophe. Running into the living room, I pick up the reciever. "He-hello? Who is this?", an unfortunately familar voice is on the other end. "Oh. Hi. Uh. Kathy? I just thought, uh, I should call and tell you that it wasn't right we weren't friends anymore..." Not exactly a car accident, but I had the feeling that this conversation would probably end up somewhat similar to one. Taking a deep breath and crawling back into the wool-womb of my bed, I pretend to be quasi-cheerful. Forgive me for paraphrasing: "Oh Justin. Works great. My friends are great. School is great. That gaping hole you left in my heart has just began to scab over." I talked entirely too optimistically, and glossed over the heartbreaking conversation I had prepared for in my mind. When I was finished, he remained quiet. "So, whats the real reason for you calling? You don't just decide to phone up someone at midnight when you haven't spoken to them in 5 months." His head was boiling now. I could hear it. "I really want to tell you, but I can't." Alright, "fine", I said, I wasn't going to push him. His studdering reassured me that he was going to spill it out relatively soon anyway. I decide to joke around a bit. "What. Its not like you've got any kids or anything. Right?" Quiet. Damn. "Well, I might." He was near tears at this point. "Oh. Do you want to tell me whats going on?" He launches into a hysterical monologue about how he had just had sex for the first time, and now he was worried that he had gotten the girl pregnant. "Calm down. I know you're not stupid enough not to use a condom, and I assume that you decided to sleep with a girl smart enough to be on birth-control." Thinking about it, he assures me that the both were true. My heart, at this point, had just begun to sink alittle. "Look. If you're worried about this, you've got to talk it over with the girl. I'm not the person you want to talk about this with. You didn't want to sleep with me, remember?" I've prepared for this moment all my life. I would like to pre-thank the Academy for my nomination. "How the mighty have fallen. You, the self-righteous, you the "pure", you got drunk and slept with the first slut that fell into your bed. I wouldn't touch you to save your life." This was his time of need, and I was being as cold and heartless as the Killers, one and hopefully only, album. "But he needs you", one of my friends said. He needs nothing of the sort. He "needs" the wake the fuck up. I've put up with abuse: verbal, mental, from him. He broke my heart. He walked all over me on the way to the door. I was angry. "I don't like where my life is headed. I need to get out of here. I just don't know how." Hushed, he held up his white flag. A wave of pity/love washed over me. "Look. Justin. Tell me what you need. Money? I have it. A place to stay? Come on over. You are living in madness. If you are truly want to get out of this, you need to tell me what to do for you." I couldn't stay angry now. "I will do anything for you. Just tell me what it is you need. I've known you long enough now. We're beyond embarassment. Don't succumb to failure like so many of our friends have." I go into a diatribe about motivation, or more specifically, his lack of it. I don't question his actions, I can't, they aren't my actions to judge. I touch on his drinking and drug use. I'm not fighting for the war on drugs, but when it keeps you from getting up in the morning, theres a problem. We speak softly. We're walking on the top of snow thats been frozen over during the night. We promise that we'll do something about this. I tell him that he needs to go to sleep. He'll feel better in the morning. What I really want to do, is to crawl beside him and hold him, we would both feel better in the morning. I'm not thinking about my crushes, I'm not thinking about work, I'm not thinking about me; I think about him, I think about what I can do, I think about us. I don't sleep well that night. I'm a zombie the next day. We've talked a few more times since that evening. He isn't as gentle, nor is he as kind and needy. We go back to abuse. He ignores me, I take it. He argues with me, its like old times. I'm kind, he isn't. "Here I go again, on my own, goin' down the only road I've ever known." My life is a power-ballad. I think about him all day. But, my thoughts fall somewhere short of reality. Maybe I should have just hung up the phone that night. I know that would have been wrong, and I've been raised better than that. I don't feel the urge to go to the record store. I don't want to subject myself to people. Going out with some friends today, I only wanted to go home. Put a thousand sweaters on me and I'm still cold. I listen to "Hallelujah" on repeat all day. Thats our song. He isn't as dramatic as Jeff Buckley but his life may end up the same way. I pray. I go out of my mind. |
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