Going On Alone
Some say that when you have friendships that run their course, you’ll know. You’ll feel it. I’ve been feeling this emotion in abundance over the last few weeks. I know and understand that it’s the holidays and that everyone is busy with their own lives, but the silent loneliness of the winter nights has ever been my company over the last month. It would be nice if someone checked in on me from time to time, instead of being the rock for so many others then left out in the cold when my comforts aren’t needed.
And with recent developments over the last three months, I can’t help but wonder if somehow I’m at fault or if my stubbornness isn’t to blame. You see, I get so tired of being the one that always initiates the conversation or keeps it going that I’ve decided that if I’m wanted or needed then the other party can do the initiating for once. Make me feel wanted, damnit.
Ever since Jason left the Telegram group chat, the others haven’t been the same. It’s been irritatingly quiet in there. As of late I’ve been thinking of following suit, but again, busy holiday time. And the last time I protested this inactivity and being left to my own devices I was met with a hearty “too bad, the rest of us want to do something else” just when I was growing accustomed and looking forward to a weekly gathering of friends. Disappearing sounds more and more appealing as time goes on. Not in the sense of un-aliving ones self, more in the sense of living a life of solitude like that of Freya in God of War when she still lived with her giant turtle friend in the woods.
Marshal. I saw him for what I felt like might be the last time Thursday night. At the beginning of November that he would be moving to Memphis, Tennessee for work because the company he worked for here went under due to his boss - the company owner - developing dementia. I was devastated at the news and went into a state similar to that of mourning. I felt like he was the last chance I had at having a husband, a companion. That he was, in a sense, my last love. My stomach was in knots when he started asking me what my holiday plans were; I didn’t know what to do. He kept going back and forth over when to come see me. First it was going with me to Pat and Brad’s and disastrous scenes of his presence at my family gathering flooded my mind. All I needed was to be mocked to send me off the deep end. He then settled on coming to see me on New Year’s but that changed for whatever reason to Thursday night. He came, bought us dinner and brought it to my house. I was in the shower when he arrived and nearly scared the shit out of me. We ate, watched some funny things on YouTube and talked while we cuddled on the couch before heading to bed and having deeply unsatisfying sex. I don’t know if it was just me and my thoughts and feelings running rampant but I just didn’t feel like whatever we have/had was still there. I just felt so empty with his presence. We slept together afterward and I came to realize that Mark and Bill’s arrangement of sleeping in separate beds in separate bedrooms wasn’t quite so strange to me anymore as I came to hate that I couldn’t just sprawl out all over the bed like I normally do. The next night I was glad to have the bed to myself even if my loneliness was overwhelming. Before we parted Friday morning I had asked him to notify me when he got to Memphis, and just like everyone else, my request was ignored or forgotten. Once again I had to initiate the conversation and make sure everything was alright with the world. At this point I wouldn’t care if the world just fell apart.
I had a grand plan to leave Twitter and rebuild my social circle on other platforms though it would be a splintered shadow of its former self with contacts scattered across Hive, Mastodon, and Post. My announcement of where to find and follow me was met with the silence of the internet void; it held as much worth as a wet fart. I decided not to bother closing the account after all and now I’m left with a messy social media circle. All that’s left now is to wait for Musk to finish destroying Twitter to hopefully usher in a new age of anti-social media but I’m afraid that’s a goal that will never be reached. If anything an unending torrent of inbred morons will flood the site with diarrhea posts about politics and conspiracy that no one cares about except other people who drag their knuckles and have two or three I.Q. points to rub together to start a fire.
I’m still not sure what the point of Rob making a sudden appearance after two years was. If he wants to be fuck buddies, I’m fine with that, but that’s as far as it’s going to go this time. He’s not getting a second chance. I like to imagine that after we stopped talking back in 2020, he went slithering off to try to find someone that would put up with him and his attitude and when that didn’t happen he came crawling back to me. Much like when others have asked, he won’t be getting a second chance. When you’ve been burned a few times, being an empty whore that uses other men to “fill the void within” is preferable to being with someone that’s a two on a ten point scale.
Christmas 2022 wasn’t the best Christmas I’ve ever had but it certainly wasn’t the worst. In lieu of a nice dinner, we had pizza and chicken wings. Like, a lot of wings. I got meet Pat’s new, exhausting, highly energetic, and annoying puppy Jack. Everyone had a head cold or respiratory problem of some sort. The only real highlights from this visit was that I got a new leather hat and a sword. I didn’t really care if I got anything as what I really want can’t be bought in stores.