Stepping over
So last night, the pity party was in full swing. I decided to get out of the house (since I have a hard time rejecting others, the ball and chain came along) and see my friend Seth’s band at a fairly local bar.
Have I ever mentioned how very little I like bars? I am so very, very uncomfortable in that kind of atmosphere, likely as a result of my social retardation… initating actual conversation with strangers is nearly as bad as the thought of being locked in a plexiglass box with a spider. I kid you not.
So be it. I am working on learning to suck it up and kiss the spider.
The band was probably fairly good, but I am no judge, seeing as how I am not a fan of the particular genre… it was at least quite interesting. The demographic was very different than that I am accustomed to seeing at the shows I attend which actually provided a little escape from my own reality. Being the odd woman out was somehow comforting.
I saw a friend with whom I have peculiar relationship. His presence is always comforting on one level while being very disconcerting on another. Years ago, I mentally placed him on something of a pedestal, which now gives me vertigo.
I have learned about myself in the past week that even though tempted, I am able to refrain from using others’ bodies and emotions as scratching posts for my own unfulfilled yearnings. While I think the idea and practice noble, honest and absolutely right, in reality it sucks.
Once the complicated extrication is completed, I will allow myself freedom.
At least I have stepped over some of the muck.