Prosie

Hello Cliff.
2015-08-09 22:32:50 (UTC)

Friends are impossible.

Friends are impossible. Female friends are skittish, hateful, and awkward. Male friends follow like puppies, until they find out they can't fuck me, then they sulk off. Eventually there's no one. No one but Cliff.
He says I should keep trying, keep going out to group lunch and drinks--tedious, uncomfortable affairs full of people bragging about how they got SO drunk this weekend, or how much more cultured they are than anyone else on this wretched little planet.
I hate it. It solves nothing. I'm still lonesome and bitter.
I don't think I'm meant to be with other humans. We don't think or want any of the same things.
I don't want to compare who has the most sex. I don't want to hear what kind of woman gives you a boner. I don't want to know about how crazy your last boyfriend was. I don't want to listen to you wax on about halcyon days gone forever.
No. Let's go for a walk in the moonlight. Lets explore an abandoned park. Let's lie awake and read poetry together. Lets make a table of beautiful desserts to share. Let's sneak up to the roof. Find the stars, find the slope of the marble sky. Let's drink rich tea and look at big picture books and wonder about life elsewhere. Let's do shots in your backyard, and learn a dance together.
No one else desires these things. No one wants to be romantic.
Even Cliff balks at a few. So I do them alone.
When people ask, what are your hobbies? I want to say, 'everything you'd hate. I also don't want to fuck you,' so that we can skip the niceties bullshit. But no, that would be rude, so we have to go the long way round, where I am poked and prodded and then pushed away.
If that's friendship, then fuck that.




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