The night of June 20th was the summer solstice, a holiday that I actually DO enjoy celebrating. (This and Halloween). I came to terms with my past on Friday night. I didn't go to sleep, I stayed up with a bunch of random punkrockers, and I realized that I love who I am. The morning felt different, I felt different, and for the first time since I left Novato, I missed my friends. Tonight, one of them called me to hang out. Going home next week won't be so bad. There are people I need to apologize to.
I met a guy named Bones. He made a bad first impression. But he's just scared. He's been so fucked over by the world, just like us all, and he copes by being tough. But when we were talking at 5 am this morning, even though it started as him apologizing for his friends incompetence with women, I saw a strong yet sad, proud yet angry, rude yet sensitive guy who I should have kissed before getting on the MAX. He told me about his brother being shot by gang members when he was trying to break up a fight. He told me about getting his ass kicked every day after school until he brought a knife with him and stabbed one of the bullies. He told me about how he bought, cooked up, and injected a shot of shitty heroin into the arm of the girl he loved and watched her die.
I am reminded that it's okay to fall in love with someone for a split second, even if they have nothing to give you and you have nothing to give them. I hope I see Bones again someday.
Punks wear leather jackets covered with studs and patches and crass statements (haha no pun intended) I think as a physical manifestation of the emotional armor many of them have built up around their truly intelligent, sensual, passionate selves.
I also met an asshole who got right up in my face and tried to intimidate my friend and me. He went on and on trying to be a tough, unfeeling douchebag, but really he was just presenting himself as a fucked up, attention hungry, scared little boy (reminded me of a lot of Petaluma punks). I've seen his type so many fucking times at so many shows, and I am sick of the likes of him stinking up the scene. Then, later, I met the man who practically raised him (a man who happened to be the one I SHOULD have tried to sleep with instead of that boy). He told me a story about how Asshole went to a bar with him on his birthday, and started crying because he was afraid that when he came out and told his friend that he was gay, his friend would beat him up.
There were many things on Friday night that reminded me of who I was in Novato, and who the people I surrounded myself with were, and why I gave a shit about such shitheads. We all grew up together, went through the same bullshit, dropped the same acid, went to the same shows, smoked pot when we were 13 under the bridge at Sinaloa, behind the dumpster at Pioneer Park, watched Family Guy together at 8:13 every Friday night. My friends may no longer love or care about me, and I could give a shitless about them, but they were my friends for a while, and they have been really important to me.
Tonight I discovered that my ex has been lying to me for a long time. For the first time, I'm not angry, I'm just hurt. I'm finally crying for me, for my own pain, for the past year of emotional hell, for how long it will take to believe in love again. I don't want to see him any more. I don't want to talk to him any more. I will talk to him one more time, to say goodbye, and to say I'm sorry. I wish someone was here with me right now, I wish it wasn't 2 am, I wish I could talk to someone who would just sit there and listen and let me cry out everything. Instead I'm going to go on a bike ride. I might not sleep again tonight, but that's alright. I have a lot to think about. I don't hate that girl any more. I can't have hatred any more. I want to change the way I am, I want to be truly kind again.
How can I be kind when I am no longer naive? I don't know.
I forgot it was the Solstice, but the Solstice didn't forget about me.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment