Then I think of how I can escape this. It's still early enough to go to a bar. I'll plan on that - I got a tip tonight. I can use that. How can I make sure no one will talk to me? I'll dress in my less attractive clothes and look pissed off and tell them to piss off when they try to talk to me. No, it won't work. People always fuck with me. I couldn't go to a bar. I'll buy some wine and cigarettes and get fucked up at home. I can use that tip money. Do I really want to do that to my lungs? Do I want to wake up hung over? Yes. I don't care about that. I do, but I can't feel like this all night. I can't go home and spend all night alone. There's nothing I can watch that'll make me feel better. Every fucking movie involves more than one person, and those more-than-one people usually know each other and talk to each other and chat and laugh just like everyone in the real world. It'll only hurt more. I'll only ache more.
I cry on the way home. Little spurts. I can never cry for long. I think it's because the pain goes deeper the more I cry and I become more and more aware of the fact that nothing I do can change what's going on inside me and around me. I get home and let the dogs out. I sit on the floor and tell Taaka that no one likes me and I don't like me and I don't want to be lonely forever. I hug him and he licks my face and looks up at me with pitiful eyes. Then I lie down and browse my phone for an hour.
OK. I can't do this all night. I'm going to CVS - the one that no one goes to, so I won't see anyone I know. Wine and cigarettes. I drive past CVS. Walmart - I have some money. I'll buy something fun. I like buying things - it helps me feel better. Nothing at Walmart. CVS. I'm at the light. One way is wine and cigarettes. One way is lonely horrible night at home. I go home. I don't cry anymore. I distract myself with stupid apps until I'm too tired to keep my eyes open. That doesn't sound like victory, but when you struggle with addiction, you see victory in lots of weird things.
Church today. Sitting between roommate and her friends. I want to leave as soon as I get there. I don't. Sermon is pointless, irrelevant. Ross. I buy a beanie and a phone case that I'll have to take back because it doesn't have plastic on the front - only the sides - your phone will get destroyed with that shittiness. Driving home again to an empty house. Better empty than my roommate there. I listened to Sam Smith all the way. Then I park in front, turn off the engine and a new song comes on by The Platters called Only You.
Only you can make this world seem right
Only you can make the darkness bright
Only you and you alone
Can thrill me like you do
And fill my heart with love for only you
Only you can make this change in me
For it's true, you are my destiny
When you hold my hand
I understand the magic that you do
You're my dream come true
My one and only you
Only you can make this change in me
For it's true, you are my destiny
When you hold my hand
I understand the magic that you do
You're my dream come true
My one and only you
(One and only you)
Jesus sings me funny songs sometimes. I pictured him in a black and white shadowy room, dressed like Sammy Davis Jr. and holding his hand out for me to take. He'd dance a silly waltz with me and tell me that everything's gonna be alright and that he's sorry it's hard.
Having a relationship with Jesus didn't change my life; it just gave me this tiny tiny seed in my heart that makes me think that even when everything falls apart and I hate myself and I hate the world, I'm really not alone and I have a friend who adores every part of who I am and doesn't mind telling me so.
