Over and Over, Come and Go

 Jon Spencer was playing downtown and I thought it'll distract me. 

Pulled my hair back. Brushed my teeth. Put my coat on, and stood motionless in my living room catching my breath.

My heart had been racing and my head had been spinning and for two days I had felt like I was creeping closer and closer to some degree of violent collapse. I had convinced myself I was unknowable and that solitude was all that waited for me. That to be in company would mean to accept less than what I enjoyed in people. I wasn't unlovable, people came and went, professing love and dreams and projecting a version of me that I've already been. A version of me I've long ago smothered to death under a hundred whiskey and sweat soaked blankets in a string of bartender bedrooms. I've been that guy. I killed that guy. I can't be what they want, so I push them away. 

Ann and Grace and Sage and Serena and Rowan and... on and on. Who knows how many others? Makes no difference.

Don't I prefer to pace my house? To write the same moments over and over with different titles, in different prose? Don't I prefer spending long stretches of days without ever speaking a word or seeing another human being? Over and over? Isn't this what I want?

I needed to get out of the house. I stood motionless in the living room, catching my breath and counting my fingertips and repeating it'll distract me. It'll distract me. It'll distract me...

I couldn't tell if I had fucked up. Pushing people away. Maybe. Probably. I kept picturing small moments of beauty. The warmth of skin to skin. The smell of hair. A hand held in a theater. A mattress on a back porch. On and on. Over and over. I kept picturing these things and that sinking longing bore further and further into me. In desperate attempts to shake it I'd force myself in the other direction. Moments of misunderstanding. Yelling. Accusation. The way I had felt alone even then. Disappointed in myself and burdened with expectation and dead hopes. But that never really worked as well I had hoped. It never brought me to any peace or conclusion other than that I had become unknowable. Unknowable and, because of that, permanently isolated.

It'll distract me. It'll distract me...

I came out of it and grabbed my keys and drove into town. Parked my car and sat in it, staring at the base of the large concrete monument in the center of town. Heat on. Controlling my breathing. 

I had been talking to Sage here and there over the evening. First time a while. I had been talking to Elle throughout the day. Like most days. I had gone to Marie's house a couple days ago. Drank and laughed and hung out. It was her anniversary, and I thought that was funny. Grace texted me a single "." and I responded with a single "?".

They come and they go.

But only two of them knew me, at one time or another. Wanted to know me. Saw me for what I was. Or, am, in Elle's case. So I was closest to them. Well, they were closest to me. 

Sage told me she relapsed again and was back to bad ways. I bit my tongue and put away my phone. Got out of the car. Walked to the venue. 

It was cold. I should have worn a thicker jacket. My heart was racing and my fingers were going numb. I couldn't tell if it was from the cold or the panic.

A line of people outside. Through the windows, a large crowd. Heart pounding. Lungs struggling. I stood in the line for a moment and then decided to leave. 

Back to the car. For a moment I sat and wondered if I should just go to one of the three empty bars near me. At least that's out of the house, I thought. I didn't. I turned the key. Drove home.

I've convinced myself I'm unknowable and I've convinced myself that no one could ever really see me, or want to see me for who I am. But I stay inside. I hide from people. Literally and figuratively. I wear the smile and the charm and the big baby blues, but I hide the rot. 

I reply to Sage;

"Have nothing but faith in you."

True, but means nothing.

The isolation isn't good for me. Clearly. Amy has said it. Therapists have said it. You've probably said it. I need to be myself if I want people to see me. Know me. Love me. I need to leave the house. I need to be near friends. I need to let my guard down. Not everyone is looking for something. Not everyone is a threat. Not everyone will do what you've done. 

Sat in the car outside of the apartment. Controlled my breathing. Slowed my heart. I headed upstairs and shut the door behind me. Shoes off. Shirt off. I am unknowable. Sage replied. Elle replied. Grace replied. On and on.

They'll come and go.

They always do.

I am barely there.