Change. I love it. I hate it. Humans. You have to deal with it. You have to adapt. Only way to survive right? What’s the way to live?
I’m working on it. We each have our own definitions.
It dawned on me that I came back a different person. Truth is, I’ve been growing apart for years but I finally stopped feeling bad and accepted that this was human nature. I felt bad for ignoring old friends who wanted to get together for some kind of reunion. I just can’t force myself to go there, to go in this circle again…no not yet. I already know what will happen this coming thursday if I do go.
We will sit on a couch at my friend’s house. We can’t leave because she’s on house arrest for sticking something, I pressume illegal, up her vagina for her boyfriend in prison. Well for a friend of his, which was forced by this guy’s baby mama and now she wears a gps tracking device on her right ankle. As you can see, we all have changed. You can also see the type of community I grew up in.
Then comes the obvious conversation starters. Where one pretends to care but just wants to hear all the dirt so that they can later bring up when you leave the room and criticize to others.
“Hey how are you? What have you’ve been up too? How was San Francisco? You guys broke up, oh no.”
“Yeah I’m good. Umm, I’m unemployed sleeping on my mother’s couch ruled under my sister’s authority. It was amazing, I was drunk all the time. Yeah we broke up but I slept with him about 3 days ago.”
Then I’ll drink. I’ll drink a lot to make myself pleased. In between the laughter I don’t get and stories that only they will get because I wasn’t here. I’ll drink a little more hoping for a tree to slam down on me. They will go on about school about the past. The good memories. The good times. Don’t get me wrong, it was nice back then…at that moment.
We’re not in the past anymore.
It’ll all be fake. I know what they have said about me everytime I make excuses up because I don’t want to hang out. I just don’t care anymore about these stupid problems.
I don’t fit it anymore and I thought something was wrong with me. I felt bad for not being able to talk to them anymore. I felt bad for leaving them hanging. Until I figured out what they were.
That’s when they come out.
Because all girls are bitches at some points in their life and some never outgrow it.
The minute I come up with my excuse to not see them thursday the bitch hungry zombies will come out.
“ahhhh back I say, back I don’t want to be stuck here anymore, back!”
“grrr..rawr…stay Jane. remember the good times? when we would drink all the time and go out.”
“Uh yeah. nothing wrong with that.”
“well..stay here. stay and let’s talk shit about everyone because obviously we are so cool to still be on the same couch for like 9 years talking about the same things over and over again.”
“no! that’s lame…get a life!”
“…Jane..we can’t remember, we’re zombies?”
“oh yeah…well doesn’t that suck.”
“Nah, it’s ok. You can party all night and I haven’t had alcohol poisoning.”
“Sweet good for you!”
I wipe the zombie goo from my hand.
“back zombies, back!”
Change. I hate it. I love it. But I’d rather be alone and alive then a damn zombie.