But I am tired. My ears are ringing from the concert I went to tonight and my hair smells like cigar smoke and other parts of me are uncomfortable. So physically, I'm uncomfortable in general. I'm telling you this so you know where I am coming from.
Someone left a comment on my blog about my drafted posts and I have to say I am continuously surprised when someone actually takes the time to read what I write. Who am I that anyone should listen? I say the same things over and over and barely make any progress. I whine and worry quite a bit and my life is completely lacking in any kind of adventure or, you know, specialness. And yet someone listens. It makes me feel good to know that.
In the car ride home Jeremy asked if I was okay. I said I was. He didn't believe me. I said I was okay. He said I could just say I didn't want to talk about it. I said I didn't want to talk about it. That was, I think, the first time I ever said that to him.
My brain doesn't always work in a pattern that makes immediate sense to the outside observer, but the following thoughts are connected and make sense to me.
Drafted posts and the car ride home.
I drafted those posts because I felt like I had things to say and then, having said them, worried about how people would respond if they read them. Even people I'm almost entirely sure don't actually read this anyway. Just in case. But part of me did want to be heard and by those same people or I wouldn't have written and posted those things in the first place.
And in the car ride home from the concert I was trying to make sure Jeremy didn't notice that anything was wrong with me but my hands gave me away as I worried my jacket belt between my fingers. I've managed to hide being not-okay around him a couple of times before but I don't know if that was because we were in a group setting and he had more to focus on, or if maybe this time I wasn't trying hard enough in the first place. Because part of me did want to talk about it, but I knew we didn't have enough time. I don't want there to be things I can't talk about with him, but it wasn't stuff that could be covered in the distance between the coffee shop and my house. And he was going to Billy's house afterwards and now I worry that he thinks I'm upset with him for going to Billy's house afterwards. I worry too damn much.
I'll tell you some of the things that were on my mind in the car. If you don't want to know, um, you could always stop reading?
The main thing was that I actually usually hate concerts and shows. (Jeremy says in surprised tone, "I didn't know you don't like concerts.") I don't like being places that require me to be around other people but not actually talk to them. You have to do the awkward yell-into-each-others-ears thing. I hate that. I can't read lips. And I always want to talk. And also, my favorite part about music is the lyrics and in concerts I just don't understand the words if I don't already know the music. And even then I like the more intimate, quite settings. I don't like shows. So nearly the whole time I felt this general pull to walk out of the concert part and into the coffee shop part and talk to people. I wanted to leave, leave, leave.
And then there were all these people there that I barely know and they are the kind of people that say "Hi!" really enthusiastically when they see me but don't actually know anything about who I am and don't really want to talk to me long enough to find out at all. It seems like a waste to me. Its like fake-nice.
And Travis was there and I actually did want to talk to him but I couldn't and that made me a little sad.
And three other things I don't want to write about because then I would probably draft the post later.
Part of it was feeling awkward and uncomfortable. Part of it was feeling worried and jealous. Part of it was feeling unsure and hesitant. I don't think I can say more.
And I don't want to get too personal but I hurt and just wanted to sit down somewhere and hug a pillow. But I was standing still in a crowd.
And I felt pretty today and it was dark and loud and hot and I couldn't talk to anyone so they could see too.
And then there was at least part of that I had already decided that I should never, ever talk to Jeremy about and that I must hide it from my face and my person as much as I could.
All of these things were going through my head in the car ride home. And maybe more that I've already forgotten. Jeremy says you can only hold 7 things in your mind at a time. And if we add the cigar and the jacket-belt and the music and the moon and the ever-shorting distance and the worry over upsetting Jeremy by accidentally making him think I was upset with him, well, that is A LOT more than 7 things to think about. They just circled around my head like a carousel on fast forward until I could barely keep up with the conversation we were having.
I am tired. Thanks for listening.