Snow
.Just came back from my semi-annual old-coworker gathering. We are like a family. Some of us have moved to other companies - most of us have, but there are a few that are still back at the old ranch. Now, the astute readers will remember my difficulties with an old coworker recently turned coworker again. We've made up, I think, but we still aren't where we were. Which is a true shame, because where we were was pretty fantastic.
Familiarity breeds contempt, and though every day I thank whoever for having Karl in my life, there are some really interesting undercurrents in our friendship. For instance, there is what we mean to the other as a status symbol. As someone who is pretty convinced that he has no friends and everyone hates him, having someone that loves him unconditionally and intensely means something more - I've seen him retell stories that are kind of embarrassing to me as they reveal the depth of my emotion for him, simply because I think he wants to let people see that someone really does care about him. For me, it's the fact that this incredible genious, this incredibly hard to get along with person, values me enough to want to spend time with me. That's the dark side of our friendship, the ugly side that's based on our own insecurities.
It's implicit in our friendship, though, and we both deal with the ramifications of it. Though sometimes both sides come into play at the same time and the result is never entirely smooth. Such was the case tonight, when we picked on each other relentlessly, like an old married couple. He said things I couldn't believe he brought up, I said things that revealed how close we are just to goad him. It's an exhausting tapdance for dominance and I wonder why we do it. After a particularly viscious bout of teasing, I say
"Why are we friends, again?" (IE, why would anyone want to be friends with you, knowing what he fears the worst is being hated.)
He doesn't miss a beat and fires back with
"We're friends again? (IE I don't really count you as a friend, knowing what I fear worst is not being considered close to him)
Both of these remarks were completely out of line, and specially chosen to kick eachother in the nuts. But that's just the way things go.
6 months ago we were out for a drink, and went back to his place to sober up. He opened his garage door for us to get inside. It was pouring, thundering like mad. There was a small lake in his subterranean garage, and assuming I didn't want to cross it he stuck out his cheek for a kiss and said "love you." Like it was the easiest thing in the world. I kissed him on the cheek and came in anyway, watching the endless water fall from the sky.
Tonight, I hugged him hello and realized it was the first time we'd hugged in a long time. A long, long time. I hugged him goodbye too, and the returning hug was limp and awkward. We had a snow storm in Milwaukee too, endless white falling from the sky.
I guess all things freeze.
Familiarity breeds contempt, and though every day I thank whoever for having Karl in my life, there are some really interesting undercurrents in our friendship. For instance, there is what we mean to the other as a status symbol. As someone who is pretty convinced that he has no friends and everyone hates him, having someone that loves him unconditionally and intensely means something more - I've seen him retell stories that are kind of embarrassing to me as they reveal the depth of my emotion for him, simply because I think he wants to let people see that someone really does care about him. For me, it's the fact that this incredible genious, this incredibly hard to get along with person, values me enough to want to spend time with me. That's the dark side of our friendship, the ugly side that's based on our own insecurities.
It's implicit in our friendship, though, and we both deal with the ramifications of it. Though sometimes both sides come into play at the same time and the result is never entirely smooth. Such was the case tonight, when we picked on each other relentlessly, like an old married couple. He said things I couldn't believe he brought up, I said things that revealed how close we are just to goad him. It's an exhausting tapdance for dominance and I wonder why we do it. After a particularly viscious bout of teasing, I say
"Why are we friends, again?" (IE, why would anyone want to be friends with you, knowing what he fears the worst is being hated.)
He doesn't miss a beat and fires back with
"We're friends again? (IE I don't really count you as a friend, knowing what I fear worst is not being considered close to him)
Both of these remarks were completely out of line, and specially chosen to kick eachother in the nuts. But that's just the way things go.
6 months ago we were out for a drink, and went back to his place to sober up. He opened his garage door for us to get inside. It was pouring, thundering like mad. There was a small lake in his subterranean garage, and assuming I didn't want to cross it he stuck out his cheek for a kiss and said "love you." Like it was the easiest thing in the world. I kissed him on the cheek and came in anyway, watching the endless water fall from the sky.
Tonight, I hugged him hello and realized it was the first time we'd hugged in a long time. A long, long time. I hugged him goodbye too, and the returning hug was limp and awkward. We had a snow storm in Milwaukee too, endless white falling from the sky.
I guess all things freeze.