Wrong Turn (2003)
My bus took a wrong turn the other night, and so did I. At first.
YOU'RE GOING THE WRONG WAY, a passenger shouted, and the driver apologized. It was his first day on the job, so he had to call a supervisor to ask for instructions. None of us were that pissed, though I was slightly annoyed because I already missed a bus and was running behind schedule. I just wanted to be home. "Sorry, we just have to take a short detour," the driver said. That short detour was a short trip to hell.
The bus drove up the road and pulled into the hospital parking lot to turn around. We drove right past the B.C. Cancer Agency and my heart sank. It's a place that I was hoping to avoid, at least for a good while, if not forever. In fact, every time my bus passes by that area I turn my head away and stare out the window, because even though we don't go right by the building you can see Ben's old hospital room from the road. I even make a point of not looking at the bus stop where I often waited on my way home from visiting him.
As the bus pulled away from the building and we got back on track, I started thinking about why I've been steering clear of looking in that direction, and what else I've been avoiding in my life. Being cautious of repetition, I won't get into anything I've recently discussed here, but yes, some thoughts of Ben and what he went through came to mind, but some other things popped up and kind of blindsided me. Some stuff that I had convinced myself I was over, but I guess I'm not.
My mind took me back about five years to when I lost another friend, though he didn't die. He's off somewhere living his life with someone. Someone who didn't appreciate how close we were (we were once romantically involved and had become the best of friends) so he had to cut me off or lose her. I was sympathetic because I was once an insecure young woman myself, but the sympathy didn't remedy the pain.
At the time I responded in typical fashion and acted like I wasn't bothered, but of course I was. He was my best friend. He was crazy as hell, but in a good way and I adored him. I still care for him and often wonder how he's doing, but I have to move on. I haven't grieved the death of that friendship and I'm beginning to see what skipping that process has done. I've had a few run-ins with exes recently, and the fact that I feel basically attacked when they just try to say hello says a lot about how I process things and move on. I kinda don't.
I mean, yes of course I move on as in move forward and continue living, but I just kind of carry on without a care, and I think that I was able to convince myself that I actually didn't care and that's why I didn't need to spend time grieving. Oh, what an annoying lesson to learn and at a particularly difficult time in my life too. Ugh. Becoming emotionally mature is a fucking process, y'all! It kind of sucks. Pass me a joint and a caesar, please!
And that brings me to my Saturday night (last night) when I let my caesar chill in the fridge and left my weed in the nightstand. James went to a party with some friends and I stayed home, stayed sober, did some reading and writing and organized my socks. Does that sound as sad as it felt when I typed it? I'm not jealous of James' night or anything, as I truly value my alone time, but I actually felt sad and dare I say...lonely. God, that makes me cringe. I don't know why, but I have never felt comfortable admitting to that feeling before. I sincerely love being alone, too, but man did I crumble last night.
And I got to thinking about how James and I are best friends now and how he might meet someone soon, maybe even at this party, and that this someone may not take a liking to me or the connection I have with him, and maybe he will have to leave me in the dust too. It's totally possible, and I have to find a way to be ok with it. I have to know that I am enough on my own, without anyone, but also that it's ok to feel lonely and sad sometimes.
So yeah, I organized my socks! And I feel pretty productive. Also, I finished this blog post today and am now moving on to tackling other things on my list. Number 1: be kind to myself and do something that makes me smile.
I hope you guys are all doing the same.
Until next time, I leave you with some spooky socks and a song that my old pal once sang to me over the phone after waking me from a dead sleep. For that, and for many other things, I am grateful.
I'm finally doing it--pulling my insides out and splattering them around for all to see. Here we go!