Day 186 Thank You

"You sound like you're doing really good." Jason sounds surprised and I'm more proud of the fact than insulted by the subtext. 

I reply, "Thank you?" and try to laugh off the affronted undertone that I know is in my voice.

"No really," He insists sincerely. "I was worried for you for a while there, but it sounds like you've really analyzed the situation as best you can and are acting in the best way possible."


I'm exhausted, having only had 2 hours of "sleep" on a couch that wasn't mine after work and about to head out to work again in just 4 more. I'm finally in my own bed and I've just finished telling Jason about my mistake earlier this week, not the part about waking up in a different guy's home twice since Saturday night, but the part about making a phone call and allowing myself to believe that things would end with just that. I'm really tired and my cellphone slips from my shoulder more than once and I have trouble following the topic, but Jason and I haven't spoken to each other in a long time...and whenever that happens I feel like the distance between us in all levels gets exponentially further. 


So I stay on the line and tell him the whole story, the ups and downs and I try not to let in just how much of things were out of my control and how much worse they'd be if I was the one in the driver's seat. But he sounds proud of me...and I can't bring myself to tell him otherwise because it's nice to have some positive reinforcement lately.

We talk for longer than I should've with an overnight shift hovering over my head in a matter of hours. I congratulate him on his recent amazing achievement then scare him shitless with the countless things that can go wrong when a baby gets born. He tells me about his last relationship with a girl he's only starting to really realize treated him like shit and I think the fact that I didn't practically sing-song "I told you so" speaks volumes about my self-control.

At some point, he reiterates that he thinks I'm better now. Maybe I'm just a good faker at this kind of stuff, or maybe no one really remembers that 2.5 years ago I was an arm's reach away from a plastic bottle with meaner spirits than the ones you find in a glass or tin one. 


Either way, his words give me some level of peace...even if he's just saying the words because it's polite.



I think I'm being lied to. I feel it in my bones that someone near and too dear to me, someone I desperately love is deceiving me in an awfully horrible way. I have no proof, no tangible evidence other than this progressively spiraling feeling in my gut that I am losing something so important and I can't seem to do anything other than stand by and let it happen, because they won't grasp the hand I'm reaching out to hold them with.