Accidents and I am skipping goth night
Code let me know he was not going to goth night on Saturday. I told my coworkers and they said, now you don't have any reason to be there.
Yeah, but I am kind of curious.
Don't do that to yourself.
Why would you put yourself through that?
I want to sail the ship into the storm.
It's not worth it.
This was when I was feeling better on the medication, I took it with food and it didn't stretch out like it has been lately, making me feel ill later in the night. It does help to eat more but I'm not sure that it should be doing this to me.
I made it to twenty-five days sober as of Saturday. I intend to break my last streak which was one month sober. Maybe I can do two.
Before I saw her at work I was cleaning up my room, unpacking and re packing things that I wanted to keep or get rid of. I came across this small pile of papers, printed out lyrics and notation for chords, hand written lyrics and more notation on the back of some. I got out my grandfather's guitar, tuned it up, then sang and played along. All but one or two of the songs were Radiohead songs. Then, I decided to learn my two recent favorites.
The next day we encountered eachother at work. She is a fan of Radiohead.
•
This was the first time in a long time that I had seen her in the building. I asked how she was and to tell me what she had been up to and she shared some personal details and also talked about the work she was doing that kept her busy.
I told her a little bit about Ben and these were details that she was unaware of. The more details I shared the closer I got to saying, you should reach out and get caught up.
She talked about her concerns, her relationship. I had recently started taking the medicine and was feeling brutally honest. I told her how I felt about her concerns.
He said we can move in in five years.
I wouldn't wait six months.
I go home from his place and some nights I cry myself to sleep, alone in my bed.
Why are you going home at all.
I don't want to move too fast.
You know yourselves and you know what you want, that is not fast that is communicating and agreeing on what you need to move forward.
These conversations are always painful. I don't communicate and that means I don't get what I want. I share that information and it seems so simple. But it is not simple for me. I can not imagine it is simple for them.
She invited me to see a show the next night, downtown near her boyfriend's home, she was house sitting.
At work she said we could light a bonfire in his yard somewhere. I asked if I could perform a ritual and she said, sure. I packed lighter fluid and some items for the ritual.
We texted and I told her I would try an edible but I may not be able to drive home. She said I could sleep on the couch.
At home before the show I was taking a nap and woke up because I felt like I was inhaling some of the copious medication-induced drool that was collecting on my pillow. The phone lit up and I checked it, she sent a long message that included some of her insecurities about their relationship, his being away on this trip. I replied that I would rather have the discussion in person and that I was getting ready to come over. She texted the address.
We sat in his living room and she explained that he called and they talked on the phone and now she felt better.
She told me about her boyfriend Earl who looks at his phone and rolls his eyes, complaining about an ex girlfriend who is ten years younger than Pearl, that he still communicates with her.
Do you still talk to any of your exes?
One.
Why?
When we dated we both had children about the same age and we couldn't afford babysitters so our kids got to know eachother.
Why do you think he still talks to this ex?
She talks to him.
Those were not the exact words. I told her about the start of my last long relationship and the exes I talked to. One had plans to marry me and backed out after I met her entire family, she had put off telling them about our engagement and imminent plans until a week before we were going to move forward. Then, she told me she could not do it. I would never get back together with her again, I can't trust her.
Then, there was a woman that I carried a torch for. This was about five or six years. I don't think she knew I existed until I crossed paths with her again. She and her husband were in an open relationship. I was emotionally cheating, flirting with her over text messages. Then, she and her husband divorced and I had to cut off contact. Scale it back.
In both cases I was continuing to communicate with them in different ways, for different reasons, but the result was the same. It hurt the person I was with, the person I loved and said I wanted to spend my life with. I don't think I got to the reasoning behind it before we changed topics. Perhaps the gummies hit.
There are a lot of things that I plan to say and do that do not come to fruition. Events and actions that could change the course of the lives around me in a positive way. Or, could be an attempt at taking a step together in the right direction. To make closer friends, to create a better connection. And things never go the way I plan.
Slim's Downtown Distillery
Before Ben and Della arrived we sat outside the bar. She said something like, this is the real test so be honest. What do you think about Jan?
She's got a lot of energy but she's one of the most incompetent people I know.
Exactly!
She told me all about her experiences with Jan. She said there is an in-group out-group dynamic at work that Jan is at the center of. I usually feel included so I don't see it.
I was talking to Ben outside the bar. Della was talking to Pearl. I told him about the songs and pieces of paper and playing my grandfather's guitar for the first time in so many years. When I said the word Radiohead Pearl stopped and immediately asked, Radiohead? Excuse me, you just said Radiohead.
I laughed, I know I'll tell you the story later tonight.
She went back to her conversation with Della.
The three of them had been drinking, I suspect Pearl started before I was taking a nap. She and I also had an edible each, I believe she had taken a couple of them.
I explain this because we were all four inebriated so the conversations were a little disjointed, we were distracted.
After the two bands finished playing we went upstairs and Ben got a bunch of quarters but we managed to drag one game out until at least one in the morning.
By this time I had whispered in Pearl's ear, the edible has worn off, we have a decision to make.
There's this short story about a young woman whose mother is preparing the house for a party. They have servants coming into the property setting up tables with long tablecloths and flower arrangements. There are many different kinds of workers from laborers outside trimming flowers to the head chef whose accent the children cannot understand. And in this story they leave the estate to do something and are interrupted in their journey by a funeral procession that leads them into the heart of the poorest part of town. They go with this family into the home of the deceased to see his relatives and they hear from them. It takes a dark turn into areas that are neglected, impoverished, starving, and without the resources that the two have when they begin their journey. And it abruptly ends.
Then I remember there was a chapter in the Great Gatsby where there is an accident. A woman in the road is killed. I believe a man was distraught, talking about a breakup with a woman, things that were lost are shared in conversation, poor people are involved. But that story continues.
She got us a rideshare back and on the way two vehicles, our driver said one was a red Lexus and the other a black BMW or perhaps a Mercedes. They were driving side by side and when the light turned green they tore off ahead of us into the night, around an unknown turn. We reached an intersection where the sound of a vehicle driving over and plowing into plastic was loud, cracking in the night. A man lay in the intersection on his back, three red points dropping down inside the cowl of his sweatshirt. His black helmet lay on its side a few feet away from a crumpled up husk of a motorcycle. Its plastic body spread out throughout the intersection, mingled with what I imagine were pieces of another vehicle. The one that fled the scene.
The man cried out for help and two men emerged from a nearby neighborhood, perhaps three. They carried the victim out of the intersection and to the sidewalk.
•
The driver asked, should we stop?
No one else is.
Yes.
We got out and he led the way. She got closer than I did.
Should I call nine one one?
He was incoherent, he asked to be moved from the road.
We stood around him and I looked at the accident, watched the other cars slow down and plow through the plastic evidence that littered the road.
I got on the phone and made the call.
He says it was a hit and run.
Did you see anything?
No.
We are on the way. You can go.
They said we can go because we didn't see anything.
OK, the driver turned, you should get her.
I said her name twice, she stood over him.
He had asked, just be close to me.
By now he had moved to his leg, help me straighten it.
I don't think so.
Just pull it out.
You are hurt real bad.
Yeah man, it's broken.
•
This was at a dark intersection next to an overpass. There was a tall building on one side and what looked like construction barriers all around. The streets were narrow, there was no streetlight which is the custom here in North Carolina. There was only the traffic light and headlamps of cars that crawled past.
He was on his back, curled slightly, one of his legs was out straight and appeared to be fine but the other was warped, like when you crush out a cigarette too soon. The blood on his head was unnerving, I couldn't tell if it was make-up from a club night.
• The police, did you see anything?
No.
You can leave.
I had to step close to her and say her name in her ear then she turned.
Inside the car, thank you for stopping.
That guy is in shock.
• We couldn't believe that that was the end of the night.
A moment before she was reflecting, what a great night, I had so much fun.
I was trying to share her enthusiasm but I was medicated on the naltrexone and she had given me a marijuana gummy that faded about a half hour before when we were playing pool upstairs at the bar.
•
The night ended with a plan changing from my staying the night at the house to collecting my backpack and driving home in the early morning.
She let me out with the dog. Her boyfriend's dog.
I need to clear out the garage and give the apartment company written notice thirty days in advance, then they will allow me to turn in the key and remove it from my lease.
I want to get some paint and a big drop cloth to protect whatever area I choose to paint the painting in the garage. I want to get black house paint and a brush, a nice matte color. Like the kind of paint that has primer already mixed into it. Maybe I'll use primer instead and paint it all out. Then go and fill it in with acrylic.
I had hoped I would get the stencil from Code to add the bloody heart to my leather jacket before Goth Prom. But the weather lately has had a low of fifty degrees so it is no longer winter weather. I'll probably have to put the jackets away until next year. Maybe I will use the hall closet where my flight jacket was deposited before everything else was taken away.
I haven't had contact with the scammers since I deleted the dating apps.
Once I am done with these strange chores and the place is cleaned up I will get back on the dating apps and document more failures.