And It Occurred To Me...

The Savage shook his head. "It all seems to me quite horrible."

"Of course it does. Actual happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the over-compensations for misery. And, of course, stability isn't nearly so spectacular as instability. And being contented has none of the glamour of a good fight against misfortune, none of the picturesqueness of a struggle with temptation, or a fatal overthrow by passion or doubt. Happiness is never grand."

 Maybe that's what's wrong. I don't want happy. I'm always bitching about how I'm never happy, but maybe I am. All accounts would point to it, anyway. Perhaps the problem is not that I'm not happy, but that I don't want happiness. I want grandness.

thanksgiving morning, 2012

I'm eating Gushers, blue corn tortilla chips, and red wine. It's kind of gross, but it works at four AM.

The dog is curled up next to me on the couch. The bunny is upstairs shaking her gate, over and over again.

The man is upstairs, tossing and turning in bed. The girl is on the couch, watching YouTube bars turn red.

And his words are appearing in streams, in this little white box. He tells me about his ex-girlfriend and a girl he hung out with tonight who forgot to mention her boyfriend. He's a little bit bitter and a little bit hurt, and damn! he can't believe she won't even give him a phone call.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

He is using me. Again. To spew all his relationship drama on. He says he is out of old cigarette butts to smoke and must go get real ones, he will be right back. And, of course, I say "okay." And I wait.

Forty minutes pass, and I do not think he is ever coming back. But, "because it is all that I ever want," I wait.

We have changed, we have grown, but we are still the same old people

that we were back then.