Out of the House, Out of My Head

Sage called and told me I needed to get out of the house. Out of my head. That I wasn't doing myself any favors locking myself up in my apartment and if I wasn't going to check myself in, the least I could do is get out of the house. Be around people. Friends.

She was right, but there was nowhere to go. I had been putting away all of my money for bills, which eliminated most possibilities. I could only walk in nature preserves so many times before even they lost their shine. 

"Let's go get indian food," she said. "I'll buy."

We hadn't hung out in some time, but we were friends still, and she was right. I needed to get out of my head. An hour later we were sitting in a booth somewhere in Albany. The menu didn't list any drinks, it only said "We serve Indian beer!" When the server came I asked what beers they had.

"We have Indian beer."

"Right. But what are they? What are their names?"

The server looked at me.

"Okay. I'll just take a beer. Surprise me."

"We have Kingfisher," he said.

"Okay. Kingfisher is fine. Thank you."

The server left and I went back to staring at the menu. I had given up meat a few months back, so my normal options were off the table.

"We should have just got a bottle of wine. It's not expensive," Sage said. 

"I can have him cancel the beer and we can do that. Up to you."

"No, actually I have to be up super early tomorrow. Probably a bad idea." 

There were vegetarian options, but not knowing what anything looked like I was having a hell of a time, and figured I might as well pick something at random.

"How are you feeling?" Sage asked. "Today, I mean." She had put her menu down and was looking at me. I put mine down, but had trouble looking her in the eyes. Embarassing, all this.

"I don't know. I'm not... I'm not at the level I was that day, y'know. But... it hasn't left me. I'm still thinking about it. I guess I always am, but, I'm still considering it. Like... it isn't off the table right now," I said. "I don't think I'm going to, again, I'm not at that level right now. I'm not at my normal baseline either. Just somewhere inbetween. I don't know." I was having trouble focusing thoughts. Articulating. Making eye contact. It was difficult to think about and keep myself together. 

"Right. I'd be furious if you did it," she said. "And devastated. I hope you know that."

"Yeah. I know. I keep thinking about that. The people it'd affect. It's the only thing that really holds me back."

"Good. Keep thinking about that."

I don't remember what I chose. Cauliflower and potatoes in curry. Sage ordered something I kept calling the "brim of a large hat". 

I made a bed of rice on my plate and spooned some of the curry and vegetables onto it, and then mixed it togther.

"Why are you mixing it? Are you a toddler?" Sage asked.

"Jesus christ," I said. "What the hell am I supposed to do with it?"

"You're supposed to get a little of each thing on the fork, not mush it all together."

"This is going to fucking stick with me, you know? Im going to develop a complex."

"Good," she said. "Eat right."

I laughed. 

"Like the salsa," she continued. "Just dipping the chips and shaking everything off? What is the point of the salsa then?"

"A little bit of flavor. Don't need to hog all the bits. Just a taste."

"Right, right," she said. "Toddler."

"I'll have you know though, that I bought chips and salsa the other day specifically so I could spitefully eat them."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. You should have seen me. Sitting in the dark. Smashing the chip in, scooping out bucket loads of chunks, and cramming it all in, mumbling 'fuck you, Sage' with every bite."

"Is that true?"

"Really unfortunately, yeah it is. I don't have much going on lately, so I have to find joy somewhere."

She laughed. "Okay, right."

We ate half the meal, boxed up the rest, talked about Sage's contaminated water supply and the ghosts of children she had been seeing that she thought were going to attack her at night. Paid the bill and left.

"Should I get a Boba next door?" she asked.

"Yes? I guess?"

"Do you want Boba?"

"No thanks. Not a fan."

"Oh right, of course. Toddler."

"I bet toddlers like Boba," I said.

"No, I've already spent too much money. I'm not going to."

We got in the truck and drove back to Troy. The shells were still on the dashboard. I kept staring out the window at the clouds and the tops of the trees. Tried closing my eyes and absorbing some moment of peace. It never came.

"Do you want to get a drink?" she asked as we pulled up to my apartment.

I considered it. "No. I want to get up early and drive."

She half-frowned. "Okay."

"Thank you, though Sage," I said, taking my leftovers and climbing out.

"For what?"

"Checking in. Getting me out of the house. Buying me dinner. Talking to me. Being my friend. All of it."

She looked out the windsheild, down the street, out toward the setting sun. "Don't fucking die," she said.

I smiled. "Bye, Sage."

"Bye. Call me if you need anything."

"I will." I closed the door of the truck, and carried my leftovers inside. I wouldn't call. I rarely did. Usually in those moments I become determined and I know that calling slows and halts the process. I know people love me. I don't want to hurt anyone. 

I sat on the couch and looked out the window at the weathervane on the neighbors roof. Checked my phone to see if you wanted to talk to me. Put it away.

I don't want to hurt anyone.