A Conversation
The following conversation took place sometime last week (paraphrased when appropriate):
HER: Why are you like this?
ME: Like what?
HER: Like... an ass.
ME: You think I'm an ass?
HER: No. Not really. I can tell you're not really an ass. I know asses, and I think you're masquerading as an ass.
ME: Are you analyzing me, Freud?
HER: Maybe. Seriously though, every time you talk to someone it's always an insult, or a "fuck this," or a "screw that," or a "this sucks,"....
ME: You left out, "I'm awesome."
HER: Of course. Sorry. But, then other times I can tell you're a truly nice guy. Come on, seriously. What made you like this?
ME: You really want to know?
HER: Mhmm.
ME: A woman.
HER: Really?
ME: As melodramatic and cliché as that sounds, yea. I blame all of my social shortcomings on a woman.
HER: I should have guessed.
ME: Out of curiosity, why do you ask? I don't think I've ever been asked that.
HER: I don't know. You just seem to me like this very cool, unique soul--only your outlook on life is so negative. It just seems like a contradiction. You know?
ME: I guess you're right. I didn't used to be like this. Now, I couldn't even shut it off if I tried. Whatever "it" is, anyway.
HER: So what kind of woman are we talking about?
ME: Geez, you talk a lot. Umm... [long pause]... perfect. She was perfect.
HER: Nobody's perfect.
ME: I don't mean it like that. I mean, to me... she's perfect. A perfect balance. That's really what attracted me to her, you know? She just the right amount of predictable, and at the same time, just the right amount of unstable. Sweet, and sassy at the same time. I don't really know how else to explain it...
HER: No, I think I get it.
ME: She's like... an angel from hell. You know?
HER: You miss her.
ME: Is that a question, or are you still analyzing me?
HER: I can tell. You miss her. But you resent her.
ME: Yea, kinda.
HER: So what happened? If you don't mind me asking...
ME: She just... slipped away, I guess. Actually it's a bit more complicated than that, but I don't really want to go into it right now...
HER: Did you love her?
ME: That's an understatement.
HER: Did she love you?
ME: That, I can't tell you. I don't really know.... I thought she did.... she DID... I mean, she said she did.... Look, I don't know. The point is, it left a lot of anger in me. And I didn't really know who I was mad at. And so I guess in the end, I just blamed myself. I figured, I was trying so hard to change things about me that I didn't think she'd like, and working so hard doing things to try to make her happy, and it turned out to be utterly useless. So now I don't even bother. I say whatever I want. I say things most people normally wouldn't. I don't invest energy or interest in anyone. And anyone who shows an interest in me just ends up disappointing me, because ever since her, my standards are so goddamn high.
HER: Do you still see her?
ME: All the time.
HER: It must be really hard.
ME: Not really. I jerk off regularly to curb those random lingering erections--
HER: No, you sick asshole. You know what I meant.
ME: Yea, it's hard. But you know... I'm pretty happy with the way things are. I spent a lot of time just stewing and seething, and now... I guess something good came out of it. I'm comfortable with the person I've become. And I really like the friendships I've made since then.
HER: I guess I can understand that.
ME: So are you satisfied? Are we done with the fucking interrogation, Gil Grissom?
HER: Dick. You know, your pop-culture references are pretty weak.
ME: Duly noted. I'll work on it.
HER: Why are you like this?
ME: Like what?
HER: Like... an ass.
ME: You think I'm an ass?
HER: No. Not really. I can tell you're not really an ass. I know asses, and I think you're masquerading as an ass.
ME: Are you analyzing me, Freud?
HER: Maybe. Seriously though, every time you talk to someone it's always an insult, or a "fuck this," or a "screw that," or a "this sucks,"....
ME: You left out, "I'm awesome."
HER: Of course. Sorry. But, then other times I can tell you're a truly nice guy. Come on, seriously. What made you like this?
ME: You really want to know?
HER: Mhmm.
ME: A woman.
HER: Really?
ME: As melodramatic and cliché as that sounds, yea. I blame all of my social shortcomings on a woman.
HER: I should have guessed.
ME: Out of curiosity, why do you ask? I don't think I've ever been asked that.
HER: I don't know. You just seem to me like this very cool, unique soul--only your outlook on life is so negative. It just seems like a contradiction. You know?
ME: I guess you're right. I didn't used to be like this. Now, I couldn't even shut it off if I tried. Whatever "it" is, anyway.
HER: So what kind of woman are we talking about?
ME: Geez, you talk a lot. Umm... [long pause]... perfect. She was perfect.
HER: Nobody's perfect.
ME: I don't mean it like that. I mean, to me... she's perfect. A perfect balance. That's really what attracted me to her, you know? She just the right amount of predictable, and at the same time, just the right amount of unstable. Sweet, and sassy at the same time. I don't really know how else to explain it...
HER: No, I think I get it.
ME: She's like... an angel from hell. You know?
HER: You miss her.
ME: Is that a question, or are you still analyzing me?
HER: I can tell. You miss her. But you resent her.
ME: Yea, kinda.
HER: So what happened? If you don't mind me asking...
ME: She just... slipped away, I guess. Actually it's a bit more complicated than that, but I don't really want to go into it right now...
HER: Did you love her?
ME: That's an understatement.
HER: Did she love you?
ME: That, I can't tell you. I don't really know.... I thought she did.... she DID... I mean, she said she did.... Look, I don't know. The point is, it left a lot of anger in me. And I didn't really know who I was mad at. And so I guess in the end, I just blamed myself. I figured, I was trying so hard to change things about me that I didn't think she'd like, and working so hard doing things to try to make her happy, and it turned out to be utterly useless. So now I don't even bother. I say whatever I want. I say things most people normally wouldn't. I don't invest energy or interest in anyone. And anyone who shows an interest in me just ends up disappointing me, because ever since her, my standards are so goddamn high.
HER: Do you still see her?
ME: All the time.
HER: It must be really hard.
ME: Not really. I jerk off regularly to curb those random lingering erections--
HER: No, you sick asshole. You know what I meant.
ME: Yea, it's hard. But you know... I'm pretty happy with the way things are. I spent a lot of time just stewing and seething, and now... I guess something good came out of it. I'm comfortable with the person I've become. And I really like the friendships I've made since then.
HER: I guess I can understand that.
ME: So are you satisfied? Are we done with the fucking interrogation, Gil Grissom?
HER: Dick. You know, your pop-culture references are pretty weak.
ME: Duly noted. I'll work on it.