Other Symptoms...

I cried tonight as I drove home. Home. Whatever that means these days.

Funny thing I am. Sick. And homeless. Yet I can still go out on a date. Tired, exhausted. Somehow I can still core a date, after a whole week plus of making the usual excuses, too tired, too busy, not feeling well. But I can still score a date, to a pricey steakhouse. Albeit the Happy Hour Menu. And given I don't eat meat.

I'm always tired lately. No matter how much sleep I get. And it's not the usual fatigue, now I'm actually sleepy, lusting after the luxury of dozing off in peace. But I couldn't. So I chose to be kind back to someone who has been kind to me, and rebel against the sleepiness. 

Funny, again, how many people act like because I could be considered attractive that should solve all my problems. That's not how I work, not how I'm built.

Not genetics, I'm sure, after much thought, but some over-active sense of morality and self-worth I acquired through all the damned reading I did as a kid.

Never to be suppressed, the rebel in me opted to go somewhere I might run into my brother.  Sometimes, I come to the false conclusion that making those who inexplicably hurt me uncomfortable might make some kind of a difference. Might make me feel better. Just because I know I'm making them uncomfortable. Or maybe I just hope at least under some circumstance, I might find the love and affection I've been denied.

After being ignored for most of an hour, I ventured to make my presence undeniably known, and received a greeting driven by appearances sake.

I found my companion at as much as a loss as I was. As kindly as possible I was asked what I might have done to deserve such treatment.

I knew he had to see it for himself to believe me, because sometimes I wonder if I might be a liar deluding myself to not know how I merit such rejection and abandonment. I've searched and searched, and all I find is that maybe I've pushed too hard, wanting the best for him (although to no avail)  and that really, I have done nothing so severe (I've even confessed the worst of my transgressions to see if my take on things was skewed and had it reinforced that I've done nothing so severe...and when I want an opinion, I press for the truth, pleasant to me or not; I strive for insight.)

At worst, I've pushed the guidance and advice that was sorely lacking to me, given lack of guidance our parents gave us both...

But nothing so severe to warrant such abandonment, unless the truth of such abandonment should count as  a transgression.

So as I drove away, mere yards in the wrong direction from the place he whom I called family lived, I cried. 

No matter how much I tell myself there is no understanding it and it's not about me or anything I've done, or failed to do, or even tried to eplain or prove, it still rips open my heart at times.

Never mind that I should have been thinking about what an enjoyable night I had, reality is not ever far behind lately. 

I suppose I should think of tears as a blessing, because for awhile there, I'd thought I'd been through so much I wasn't capable of them.

Not many, but still, it's something. and I am thankful for the few that I have in my life that don't make me feel like a worthless, crazy, psychotic liar. But I will never understand how the people who should don't know me, never have and apparently, never will. 

Thankfully, sleep calls. And again, the feeling that I can't get warm. I will beat it too, again.