Notes from my Black
I know it… I do
Sometimes you just know. I know we are essentially incompatible. We enjoy each other’s company… in theory. I will never be perfect enough and she will never be content with the me that I am. I tried so long to change. I tried to be the man she told me she wanted. That’s not me. I’m not a talker. I am quiet. I don’t want to have long drawn out conversations that ping on all my faults. Who would want that? I’m really tired of working hard and 99% of what I do is legit work, chores, household things. I do play Wordle… how long does that take? Tonight’s I got on my second try. I also play a color sorting game some… I research and I push myself into groups trying to find an in to sell my book. It’s not easy for me. I’d rather not have either Facebook or Instagram… I can’t make myself use Twitter. Tic Tok is just not in my realm. I can’t seem to find a redeeming thing about it. People tell me it’s awesome and this and that… I’m glad it brings you joy. I need to just move on.
Anyway, she is making me spend an inordinately large amount of time with her conversing at me- not so much with me. She is wearing me thin.
That’s ok. It’s probably a self fulfilling prophecy. I already know I end up alone. It’s just a matter of time.
I talked (FaceTime) to two friends this week. Holy crap. I hadn’t talked with either of them in decades. It was good. One of them has occipital cancer. Man he’s a trooper and a fighter. I might have driven off a cliff if I were him. The dude is rock solid. It’s been a long time since I felt as sure footed as either of them. I guess high school wasn’t entirely bad at preparing us for things. 2 out of 3 isn’t so bad.
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