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Archive for June, 2019

Flexing Fingers

I’m going to start writing again. Not that I’ve really stopped writing. But I did put away anything non-political or work-related. I think I got my heart broken again, but I can’t be sure. I’ve learned how not to feel too much. That’s terribly sad, isn’t it? Here’s hoping reconnecting here will help me re-learn my heart. And get me back into turning phrases because I think I have a book in me. It’ll be a total Dave Eggers effort, written without a dream anyone will ever read it. But I’d like to give it a go nonetheless. And so, I’m just going to work my fingers a bit again…

Initially, I’ll be using this space for thoughts longer than twitter will let me pontificate about, or when I don’t feel like putting something into a thread because the thought I want to convey lends itself to more eloquence (or I’m just bored and want to write).

So here’s the first of those observations…

I was talking to my dad today about the softball team and how all the women have essentially quit (“Heh, wonder why,” he laughed), and I told him I saw a former friend of mine at the last game I attended (when I quit the team) and I was confused by the interaction.

“He said hello to me, and I said hello back,” I told Pops. “But I had no interest in saying anything else and — if you can believe it — he actually seemed surprised by that. Like he really doesn’t understand why I may not have much to say to him. I’m very confused by that. I feel genuinely hurt by him and how he just disappeared from my life, but he apparently is oblivious.”

“Well,” said Pops, “if you think about that a minute you’ll understand it.”

“No, I really don’t. I have thought about it.”

“What stepping stone have you ever trod on that talked back, Sarah?”

“Oh.”

I know it may seem silly my kvetching about this softball team, but for the better part of nine years, they were also my friends. The first people I met when I moved to town knowing almost no one.

I had a birthday party the first year I was here — well, I should say, my upstairs neighbor did, and mine was a few days later so she invited me to share her party. She was having a crab pick on the back patio of the row house we lived in and said I could invite whoever I wanted. I invited every single person on my team, and spent the day getting my apartment ready to entertain friends after the picking was over.

Not one of them showed up. She had 20 or so friends in attendance and I excused myself very early and went downstairs to my apartment and cried my eyes out until I fell asleep.

I should have realized then.

They’re not bad people. But the relationships weren’t ever going to be what I had hoped for.

Friendships.

This time, baby, I’ll be bulletproof.

(I still don’t know who I’m going to watch UGA football games with, though.)

 

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