Friday, March 14, 2003
i guess every time it's your turn to comfort the other person for an extended period of time, a small part of you starts to fear for your own safety. a lot of time being the comforter rather than comfortee doesn't necessarily call into question his . . . i don't know, abilities as a nurturer, and my brain knows it's perfectly reasonable, that everything turns and turns about in time . . . but in the moment? in the fifth phone call when i'm talking soft and trying all my reassuring words one more time and worrying that they've lost their pixie-magic . . . i'm not proud that i begin to wonder, this will come around, right? you'll be the strong, sure man i met again, right? we won't spend so much time in this puddle that we change anything important, right?
me of all people. sheesh. like i haven't taxed the people around me into comfort-poverty with my petty middle class dysthymia.
the city people are not coming around to my genius plan to see them all without interrupting what is essentially the monkey's trip. sounds like the office hours i'm setting up at the bar won't be attended . . . so maybe that solves that problem. silly, i guess, to assume what lengths people will travel to see you, and then be disappointed.
me of all people. sheesh. like i haven't taxed the people around me into comfort-poverty with my petty middle class dysthymia.
the city people are not coming around to my genius plan to see them all without interrupting what is essentially the monkey's trip. sounds like the office hours i'm setting up at the bar won't be attended . . . so maybe that solves that problem. silly, i guess, to assume what lengths people will travel to see you, and then be disappointed.
