The Weather in Hell is Nice
How am I? I’m fine. You’re not asking out of obligation, are you? It’s not that I think that you are, it’s just that, you know, I’ve asked you for support a countless number of times and you hardly ever ask me for the same so — and I know I don’t need to feel guilty and that we’re friends and this is what friends do, I just, don’t want to feel like I’m pawning off a conversation meant for my therapist on to you, you know?
I don’t mean to be talking so much. Things are fine, yeah. Well. Can I tell you…can I just tell you the truth? I know I didn’t have to ask.
Last night I stayed up until 4am doing one Sudoku puzzle while watching this 12 hour video series of a group of friends playing board games at 2x speed. I never finished the Sudoku.
I don’t know why, actually, I do. It’s because I wanted to hold off on the next morning for as long as possible. It wasn’t anything specific, it’s just that you know, any given “tomorrow”, so many bad things could happen. My parents argued on the drive to Disney, my friends made fun of me at all my birthday parties.
Like any given day — it’s just miserable, you know?
I’m not taking up too much of your time, right? And I know everything coming out of my mouth sounds like the first draft of a high schooler’s tumblr post, and I know I shouldn’t be so self-deprecating but I’ve noticed that everyone who’s not self-deprecating has this annoying “if you can dream it, you can do it” attitude that just makes me want to suffocate a fellow human being. You should have a little self-doubt, you know? The world would be better off if —
I’m getting a little off track.
Work is — I mean. Look, if we’re being honest here and there’s truly no need for disclaimers and if each conversation with me ends up being a sanctuary where every melodramatic statement is taken seriously, then yeah, I hate everything and everyone.
I keep thinking that one day, my biggest dream is to be alone and to not have to work with anyone, and I don’t know why I’m getting a little choked up here, it’s probably because I’ve spent so much time trying to avoid being alone, but I can’t do it anymore. I feel responsible for everyone else’s emotions, all the time. If someone else feels sad around me, I think I’m the reason why. And you might be asking — well not you, but people in general — shouldn’t being aware of it fix the problem? It’s like, even so my heart feels like it has magnets on it or sometime, it just gets pulled left and right all the time and I just want it to stay still. Only on me. Everything I do, I infect it with this, my, hypersensitivity and so yeah, I’m miserable all the time.
Work was supposed to make me happy. And that, yeah, that was a dumb thing to think. But outside of work it’s not like I have any friends, and I know we’re friends, and I’m being dramatic but you know, we’re on opposite coasts and also it’s getting late so if you have to go to bed I totally understand and I’ll be okay. Are you sure? You really don’t have to and you know if it ever gets really bad I’ll call you or a hotline. Maybe my parents. Okay. I appreciate it.
I miss hanging out with you. High school art class. Semi-formal dances and conversations on flip phones. And it’s like now, I don’t — you know, despite whether or not I actually have friends, that doesn’t change the fact that I feel alone. Like a parrot in solitary confinement. I don’t, I mean I get coffee with people but it’s not like we have that kind of closeness. I can’t tell them what’s wrong. They’re too recent of a friend. And all the friends I had before are, you know, based on this type of “hey the world’s broken and I need to confide in someone” impulse, which, who would’ve guessed, isn’t a good foundation for long-lasting friendships.
And I’m not asking you to feel bad for me. You might be thinking — not you, I mean people in general — people in general might think I have no self-esteem but it’s the opposite. I think I’m better than everyone. That I see things more clearly than everyone. But then, I immediately feel bad for thinking I’m better than everyone and so then I’ll start thinking that I deserve to be alone. To be sad.
You know, I’m fine. And obviously — no you don’t have to apologize for laughing, I think it’s funny too. But I don’t want to be saved. I like and hate myself just fine. It’s like, you’re in hell but the weather is nice.
I um, yeah that’s pretty much it. I wish we were in the same city so I could buy you a drink. Could I send you the money anyway? I’ll feel guilty if not. Yeah I’d do the same for you but it feels like, like something will be off if I don’t. You sure? I owe you one.
And I know it’s late, and I don’t, you know I’d hate this if anyone else did this to me but — and I swear I’m not asking out of obligation — how are you?
