"I tried my best" or "Oblique references to another blog"

I came home and decided I wanted some White Castle, and after warming up a couple burgers I realized I could neither really feel nor taste them, so I guess an update is in order. I should count myself fortunate that I did not fall to the same fate as Tim, who is probably vomiting into a tupperware container right this very moment. A glass of straight rum will do that to a man. It'll do it to some inanimate objects too.

So I'm home now. I mean home home, that house where you grew up, where you inevitably feel like there's a bed and a meal waiting no matter what (your mileage may vary). This means I now spend a lot of time sleeping, a lot of time reading, not enough time studying, some time listening to music and too much time think think think thinking, how did we get this way? People who spend a lot of time hacking into my Facebook account and reading my messages will recognize that last quote. Here's another one that's on my mind:

"I can be happy you're happy and wonder how you're doing, and wonder if I'll ever meet somebody like you again and think the silence means contentment and smile for it."

We can all try our best to keep it together. You can meet someone new and it's like a game (this is indeed the origin of the term 'game'), that is, you can try to convince her (or him, I'm no doctor) that you're that perfect blend of nice and dangerous, you do all the things she approves of and maybe one that she doesn't, so she can try to fix you.

You're sweet and sarcastic and witty and funny and you can try to pretend you're sexy and you try try try try to light that fire, cause when you got that you got everything, and it takes a damn lot of mistakes to put it out. You try your best to be your best, and you wonder how long it'll take before you fuck it up. And after a while, either you fuck it up or you fucking wise up, cause it's the first thing with the people who were worth every second and it's the second with people who weren't. The difficulty lies in determining who lies in which category because a lot of times, at first, more people are in the first than are in the second, and unless you got some goddamn impeccable taste, that simply isn't the case. You have to filter them out and realize that maybe things didn't work out but it wasn't your fault. Or if it was, you have to convince yourself that it's okay.

So then you spend time and talk with pretty girls you know you'd be terrible with, or pretty girls you know you are terrible with, those few members of the opposite sex where sexual tension simply became acceptance, then understanding, an understanding that you'd never hurt them and they wouldn't hurt you because neither of you would give each other that chance, or would give that chance again, and with that understanding you reached an agreement and you both realized that maybe both sexes, men and women, both have the same problems, that you both wonder what's going through each others' heads and you both think "oh they're cute" and that makes up for a couple shortcomings and you can comfort each other when someone says "this is nice but I'm just not feeling it" or "god, I just don't know how to feel" which is a great bomb to drop when somebody's been trying their best or at least pretending to be.

Maybe not everybody's this way but when I really like somebody and I'm spending time with them, I am so nervous, so terrified, because I know I'm just a step away from fucking it up, that my facade, no matter how shittily I may have constructed it, because it is still a step up from the reality, is still just something I have to hold up, and I am just one misstep away from fucking it up. I am just one itchy thumb away from calling too much, or calling too little, and when it's over I'm just left to thinking about what it was that drove you away. Unless I know what it was that drove you away. In which case I can blame freely, and unfortunately it may fall on myself.

Because we both know that so many things are just code for "I'm tired of him." Or "you won't have sex with me." Maybe you personally have never used either of those things. But I know that happens, and it happens more than people would admit. And you can be jealous that your beautiful friend who you love even got that message, but glad that at least they got something, they didn't just get a pile of maybes, and they didn't get that nagging fear that under all those maybes is just another no, and while they may have wondered once again "what is wrong with me?" at least they got that far, to ask that question in the context of a relationship and not outside of one, because inside that context it simply brings to question your emotional availability and stability, and outside it sheds doubt on your entire personality.

You think about how ironic it is that those who may understand you best are those you try to keep yourself from being with. It's complicated, you say, or you don't want to ruin it, you say. Another way to save yourself from fucking it up. You remember that you only hurt the ones you love.

The reason for this is simple - only you have enough of the ones you love to hurt them. And they have enough of you to hurt you too. When you kick an anthill, you better believe those ants are going to bite the shit of you.

But you know, I was hoping this drunk blog was going to be heartwarming and hilarious instead of depressing and self-pitying. I guess we all have disappointments. And if you're out there reading this, and this seems familiar, but not in the "I've been there" kind of way but more in the "Was that me?" kind of way, know that I've never held anything against anybody. People do all kinds of things for all kinds of reasons, be it fear or kindness or even true malice. I've done my share too. But it's not too late to put things right. It's not too late to give things another chance. You've hurt and been hurt and it's the same with everybody. These are all hard lessons, and we must repeat them until we learn.