Conduit

I listen to her talk about herself, her life, her sorrows, her joys. I listen and I wait for an opportunity to take part in this discussion that is primarily one-sided. When will she ask about me? When will she want to know how I'm doing and what I feel and what my joys and sorrows are?

I wanted to take the high road and leave grudges behind. But really, is that what I'm doing? Or is it deeper? 

She is a conduit to the past. I don't know that i really want to be friends with her, so much as i might feel she can channel information to all those other people who judged me harshly and continue to hold opinions about me I feel are unfair and myopic. 

She also needs to understand and take responsibility for the damage she inflicted on me all those years ago, and i don't think she does.

Conduit

Making a Spectacle of Myself

Sometimes i need to go to the store, or otherwise leave the house and drive, when i don't want to put in my contacts. This means i must wear my glasses. This also means-due to a light sensitivity-that I must use those geeky clip-on sunglass lenses. Well, inevitably, i spend the $10 to buy a pair, and then break them. 


So yesterday, i had to make a quick trip to the Circle K, and realized it was daylight (oh horrors). I decided i would--as I've done before--simply put some sunglasses over my spectacles. Problem was, the sunglasses i had on hand, though voluminous as always, were all incapable of fitting over my spectacles. But they fit nicely underneath them. SO i drove to the store this way.

When i got out, my mind was on bigger things, and i went in and came out and then glanced in the rear view mirror to see that i had indeed worn this crazy configuration on my face into the store for my purchase.


Recounting this story to my partner, D., I was given the enjoyable, yet disturbing gift of her laughter--more than I'd ever made her laugh before.


That's the thing I'm trying to focus on.

Making a Spectacle of Myself