Right now, at 11:41pm, loving Ben Folds…
It’s funny the stuff we cling to, the stuff that gives our lives rhythm and routine. Funny how we think routine isn’t necessary. We live for routine, for understanding, for knowledge of what will come tomorrow, of what will be. You could almost say that routine answers the big questions.
Sigh. Yes, I’m feeling a wee bit existential 🙂
Last night I volunteered at the Fresh Hop Festival. I did a bunch of seemingly not very important stuff that I am sure contributed to the whole. I enjoyed the lively vibe, the people – people EVERYWHERE! – for someone who works at home, just the experience of others – well, that can be pretty fabulous.
A good time was had and as I nibbled on tiramisu and headed to my quite ratty but sadly drivable Subaru I thought of last year’s festival. And, as always, I thought of you. You being Derek. Why I write to him, I’ve no idea. But I thought of him, of you, of Derek, who is – as Ruby said today – “not alive” – and I remembered last year, when Derek called during the festival. We were “on the outs” – i.e. Broken Up – and Derek called to tell me the following:
1. I don’t like you.
2. I’m watching some show and the girl doesn’t want to move to Yakima.
3. I really don’t like you, okay? But the show, the girl from Yakima, well, there are no coincidences. But I REALLY don’t like you, okay?
Then he said goodbye and that was that.
Derek could always be relied upon to tell you exactly, precisely, WHAT he was thinking and how AWFUL you were to him at any given moment.
Sigh. I’m smiling, so if this seems morose – it really isn’t 🙂
I thought of the year before that. 2006. Huddled behind a row of porta-potties, on the cell phone, talking to Derek, asking him – “Am I going to be okay? Are you sure? Why can’t I stop crying? Are you sure? How do you know? Am I going to be OKAY?”
Somehow expecting him to have the answers. He did, though. He had the answers.
So yeah. I’m okay. I’m better than okay. This year, I thought of you. No, YOU. And when we talked tonight I told you how…I told you stuff and you just said “I love you“.
All of this is nothing, yet everything. All of this is just a ‘modern rock song’ and yet, not in the slightest bit new. It’s just a mind. My mind, wandering, trying to make sense of this. This life. A kludge it is, this life. All spaghetti code.
But this, this I think I can say with no reservation:
When you are gone – we will only remember the good stuff. So please – good stuff in abundance. That’s about it.