Reality check.

*or*
Jon deserves a medal for putting up with my emo boy-bullshit on a daily basis.

3:30 on a Tuesday afternoon finds me sitting on a windowsill in the skyway between the Baker and the TCF tower. I’m tucked in, knees drawn up- watching the people confidently navigate the passageways they had forgotten days before. All of downtown Minneapolis has a slightly-out-of-date-yet-not-so-out-of-date-to-be-retro-coo feel to it and the TCF is no exception with its exposed brick interior, reminiscent of old high school auditoriums. But it’s still my favorite. And I suppose that’s why I’m here- drawing comfort, seeking shelter, etc. It was my plan after work to head on over to Caribou for something fattening and all around v. bad for me- maybe pick up some more books too. Work was a nightmare but that doesn’t explain my current dissatisfaction or why I feel so raw about the edges. Oh no, not that- it’s just... well.

Reality check.

Me being me again, I suppose. Instead of the moan I desire, I settle for a sigh but still manage to draw curious glances towards my window. Morosely staring at the neon SUSHI/OPEN24/ICE CREAM signs outside (I’ve never been able to decide if the place is selling those signs or if it’s a lactose-loving, Asian insomniac’s dream come true), I think thinky thoughts. I wish I could mutilate the facts into something much more pleasing to me but at the same time, don’t even really want to think about it anymore.

One last time... here’s the thing:

I guess I always entertained the idea that someday we’d be good enough friends to take a casual trip together somewhere or spend a comfortable evening on each others’ home front for some reason or another. Regardless of what happened in our relationship, I always had the utmost respect for him and valued the things he had to say. We used to talk everyday. We said we’d be friends and this time, with him- I meant it. For me that meant, ‘Hey. I think you’re special. It doesn’t matter that we couldn’t make it work. You go here ____ in my life- always.’

But... we’re not friends. We don’t talk anymore. This is an epic bummer to me for 2 main reasons.

Reason #1. The bad reason.
He saw me at my absolute worst. Depressed, apathetic, self-indulgent, cruel... Afraid to try anything new with no self-confidence- dwelling on the past and making no headway into producing a more vibrant future. I was mean to him. On several occasions. I always thought that now, once I was free of a lot of the baggage and my pressure to have ‘the most perfect fucking relationship ever’ I could somehow be myself and make this up to him. With a sense of acute embarrassment, I realize his opinion of me might now always be made up of these^^^ moments. It's no wonder he doesn't want to keep me in his life.

Reason #2. The romantic Kell reason.
I fall in love once every 10 years. I don’t like that this is the case. I firmly believe you should fall in love as often as you can. And I’ve loved people... but not that epic, oh-my-god-romantic love, y’know? Twice. Twice in my entire goddamn life. And one of them lives in another freakin’ country. It’s not like our paths have the chance to cross on a daily basis. And now that we’re not friends, as dramatic as this sounds- I’ll never see him again. I guess that makes him static- not real to me anymore. Just memories. Lovely ones, to be sure- but just memories.

I feel a little prickling behind my eyes and realize I’ve been musing for almost 10 minutes. I should go before I actually weep in public- god! It’s funny- even though we didn’t really spend a huge amount of time with each other, he saw me cry more than anyone else on the planet. I wonder if that means something? I’m terrified of turning into a ‘tragic’ creature... it’s definitely time to leave the skyways- I think people are beginning to wonder. I refuse to make a spectacle of myself.

As I’m packing up, heading out- I glance over to check the time on the TCF’s orange digital clock on the side of the building. It’s 3:39- plenty of time to pick up my things and get home in time to feed Norman. Maybe after that, I’ll be just fine. Turning to leave, I notice the reflection of the clock on the opposite skyway window.

::snicker::
Oh my god. It’s... HUGE. I look around and everyone is going about their business without one glance. Perhaps it’s my unique vantage but I feel an almost hysterical urge to guffaw at the blatant indifference people are displaying. While that sight is drawing no attention, my struggles to keep from laughing are beginning to get noticed. Ho wah! I really better go now as I suspect I am in the process of making a spectacle of myself!
::snicker::

The Moral:
I wish to god he could have met me *now*.
But I never would have gotten here without him.

...giggling at PEE signs.
Man, I’m such a child.

...And I suspect I’ll be just fine.