Jealousy

After a brief snafu about the resumption of me teaching middle school classes tonight instead of tomorrow and me teaching only an hour out of the two because I was late, I had plenty of time on my angry walk to think about things. I had fully planned out my angry speech which would be delivered eloquently the next day, and, as it was Friday, I'd have a full weekend before having to see these people again. But I decided against it as it's probably not the best thing to do. I'll just have a talk with them instead.

But I also started thinking about other things...like how jealous I am of couples, and how I'm jealous of the way they can walk around holding hands and acting like everything is perfect in the world. Because I want that. I want someone to share the pains of the world with me and tell me that things will be alright. To comfort me, to be with me, to WANT to be with me, to tell me the things I want to hear, and the things I need to hear. Someone who can put up with my cynicism and snarkiness and still want to talk to me later. Someone who will let me complain about keeping the house clean only to let me mess it up myself during an alcohol-fueled binge. Someone who can help subside my rage at politics and people and bigots and racists and homophobes and everybody in-between and at the fringes.

I had something good for a while and I fucked it up. It wasn't all me, but a lot of it was me. And......and I think it's ridiculous that I can try to blame myself for something like that. This is why I need that other person with me. To tell me that not everything is my fault, because if it were up to me, everything would be my fault because it's the only way that some things will ever be apologized for.