My high school friend called me the day before yesterday. I wasn’t sure I would ever hear from him again since the last two times we were supposed to get together, I begged off. You know, things like shattered molars and wrecks took precedence.
His children are out of school now and his band has been doing a lot of “gigs.” He is playing this weekend and asked me if I wanted to come up and hear them. I had been thinking about going up to see one of my bloggie friends on Friday but I think I’m going to just stay here.
I asked him if he’d had any luck on the dating site and he said that everybody who responded to him “looked like his grandmother….and they were in their fifties!” He said he rarely checked anymore and was going to just get off the site.
Once again, he said “I swear, you don’t look much different than you did in high school and you sure as hell don’t look your age.” Blah, blah, blah.
He asked how the children were and if there were any serious injuries. I told him the most serious injury was that the woman who hit them didn’t have enough insurance.
He’s such a pleasant man and so enthusiastic. The entire conversation was upbeat.
He really loves his children. He wants to spend as much time with them as he can. That concept is completely alien to me….a father who wants to spend time with his children (when they’re young and need his attention and affection…not after they’re grown and he’s trying to impress some WTC.)
He said he was taking the week of the 19th off and we could go to Kiawah and…”lake around” or something. I’m not sure I want to revisit there. Too many triggers, I think.
He asked again if I would come listen to him play and then…….then came the “hmm….uh-oh”…from me.
He said that I could spend the night at his house. True, he didn’t say I could sleep in his bed but does he really think I’m going to spend the night with him? What does he think I am? I don’t spend the night with men. That didn’t sit right with me….it didn’t sit right with me at all but I’m not going to dwell on it because it is NEVER going to happen.
I’ll just let him spend the night with me. (I had to let my sense of humor slip in there.) Of course, if “somebody” was driving through my neighborhood and happened to see a car in my driveway, it would most likely result in a court appearance, whether founded or unfounded. I’m not sure where the burden of proof would lay…with me or with “them.”
I can’t say that I’m looking forward to seeing him again but it would get me out of the house. On the other hand, it would require me to put on my “mask” and act like a live person. There’s no safety in that. It’s a chore. It’s a drag. It pisses me off. I resent it because it’s not what I want to do.
But, I’ll do it. It will be a distraction for a few hours….kind of like mowing my lawn.
I get out and mow my lawn…mindlessly and numbly…only because it needs to be done. I used to love working in my yard. Now, I could care less. I don’t care if there are any flowers in my yard. I don’t care if my birdbaths are dry. I don’t care if my hummingbird feeder is empty.
Little things like that used to matter to me. Now, they seem so mundane…so unimportant…so almost ridiculous.
I was looking at my furniture last night and thinking about how it used to mean so much to me…and now, how many pieces I could get rid of without blinking an eye. My beautiful bedroom set (that every time we sold a house, the buyers tried their best to get it to convey) is out in the garage. My dining room set that the women who bought my house in Florida wanted so desperately to buy, is in my basement…in pieces.
Maybe this is a prompt to get rid of more of the past…the things from the “before time.” The furniture, the birdbaths, the feeders…all of those were around in the before time. I would have never believed that I could get rid of these things…but they’re just “things.” They have no value to me anymore. If anything, there is a slight, negative connotation attached to them and if they were gone tomorrow…I can’t say that I would care. I think that can only be a good thing.
Since he is coming to my town next, I’m going to have to figure out something for us to do. Maybe we could go to a hog-calling contest or visit a house made entirely of beer cans or go to the jockey lot and buy somebodys’ junk that the owner picked up off the side of the road on trash day.
Hell, we’ll figure something out.