Sunday, August 26, 2012

Here's the Thing


So here's the thing.

I only started that way because I've been planning to start that way. Yes, I've been planning. For, what, 3 days now? Because I planned to write it this Saturday or Sunday after I watched the game.

It's sad and telling that Glenlivet at 2:30 in the morning gives me the push to write this. It's also sad that I will never know if I would have written this when I actually planned to, after the game, and if I did, what it would sound like.

Let me try and start the way I wanted to start.

So here's the thing. I watched/followed the Arsenal game today.

Of course that isn't true since the game hasn't actually happened yet. The watched/followed would have depended on what I actually ended up doing. But that's how I planned to start.

The thing is: I'm not a club soccer person. But you already know this because I told you. Or maybe you don't know it because you forgot, but I mean, I've said it before. Not a newsflash.

The thing is: I'm not a club soccer person. But I actually checked up on when the second Arsenal game was (both Google and some schedule picture posted on your Facebook helped), because I know you like Arsenal.

And the thing also is: I can't remember the last time I started, without trying, to care about something just because someone else cared about it. I mean, I think I'm a naturally inquisitive person and all, so for most things (except reality television, for example), I'd take an interest in what someone talks about. I'd try to learn a little bit. I'd tell myself when they were talking that I'm going to go back and read more about it. But I never would. Because I'm lazy like that. And by "lazy" I mean that I have other issues, but that's far beyond the realm of what you care about.

But the thing (also also) is: I never told myself I'd look into this more when you told me you liked Arsenal. It just happened.

Anyway. I must have a point. I really must because otherwise I'm even more of a let down than I originally thought. I think the point I have is a long one.

It's been a very very long time since I've cared to check someone's social network activity on a daily basis. And -- this is hard to say -- wanted someone's attention. Not in a dote-on-me-and-forget-the-world kind of way. Just in a hey-just-thought-of-you-and-wanted-to-say-hi kind of way.

I think it's all very complicated by the tiny factoid of what happened with you and me. I think if it hadn't happened, there'd be a couple of things different. One, I would be less conscious in trying to keep in touch with you. Two, I would wonder less about whether I was so terrible that when, if ever, you remember it, you just want to move further away.

I'd like to focus on the first since the second is just a whirlpool of embarrassment in my gut that makes me want to pee and a vaccuum of humiliation in my lungs that makes it hard to breathe.

I hate playing games. I think everyone says that; it's such a cliche. But I mean, literally, I was way too young the last time I was involved in anything to even get games. I just fucking said what I wanted when I wanted. I probably pushed my sigfics (as the cool kids call them these days) very very away because of it, but that is, indeed, how I was. I would be cooing one second, and a tiny little switch would flip (such as being called "pretty" by someone I was in a relationship with) and I would start spitting fire, despite knowing he meant no insult by it. I just have a very strange interpretation of the word pretty.

I would like to state, for the record at this point, that you, honestly or dishonestly, called me pretty a couple of times. I took no offense. It's just an old incident from an even older past.

Point is, I hate playing games. But with you, I have played. Second point is, I suck at games, because I've never really played them, and when I inadvertently or unwillingly have, I've lost. Third point is, I think I'm losing now, but that's okay.

It's uncanny to and uncomfortable for me that I have to make sure I don't message too much or "scare you away" as the pros would say. Or that I don't say the wrong thing and "freak you out" as the pros would say. I'd just like to say what comes to mind. But I don't think it works that way.

So I'm trying to play. But I'm failing, because I'm not much of a player.

It kind of sucks that I'm failing. Like I said, it's been a long time since I've cared enough, so it kind of sucks that I'm failing. But, at the same time, I suppose it's nice to know that I could care enough again. Although really, I think this "nice to know" part is purely academic. Nice to know doesn't mean shit.

Instead of games, and watching when and what I message, what I'd really like is to be able to just be friends. But I've been told you can't just jump to a point in a friendship because you want it. I know this intellectually, but practically the concept is evading me at the moment.

Complete aside: [[[ Also, there's this other thing. I'm sure it sounds stalkerish and creepy, but you'll probably never read this, so what the hell. Oh, the thing I don't think is stalkerish and creepy. Just how I got to the thing might seem stalkerish and creepy. So, I see through social media your general flirting. Now, I know that sentence in itself probably triggered all kinds of alarms and guards and "what the fuck is wrong with her" brain waves, but, it's really just an observation. And when I say the next sentence, I wish you'd believe me. It doesn't really bother me. I think it's great. I think you need it after what you've been through. It makes me grin a little, and I imagine and hope it makes you grin as well!

Winding my way to the point. I read something this person on your twitter wrote. Or at least it was on her blog. It was fucking amazing. And I don't mean fucking amazing. I mean fucking amazing. I had goosebumps while reading it, not to mention smiles of disbelief at the unbelievable detail. I like to think that I can express myself through writing. But I think a (demoralizing) lesson I've learned recently has been that whatever I really like, there's a ton of people out there better than me at it, and at least a few of them I know. It tends to makes it hard to take pride in oneself. But it does make it apparent that there are certainly awesome people out there (yes, "awesome" like you) and I hope you find them. It looks like you already are, and maybe you'll find even better. ]]]

I don't know how to end this. I suppose I planned (how) to start it, but not (how) to end it. I guess it would be apropos to address the fact that I don't know if I'll watch/follow Arsenal tomorrow. I probably will. And that I don't know if I'll message you tomorrow. I probably will. But I really hope it isn't a big deal (to you) if I do.

I wish the games could stop. I wish I knew for certain that you wouldn't read into every time I messaged you. I wish you could just tell me what was going on with you, even if you didn't understand it entirely yourself. I wish you could just tell me if you thought you met someone that was cool, or met someone that was so inane that the speed of the electrical impulses in your brain actually decreased.

I wish I could say these things to you.

I suppose I tried to make many points. I don't know how many I made. So let me try and find the squeeze of it. (In case that isn't an actual English expression, I should clarify that in my head, I was thinking of the Hindi phrase, "is sab ka nichod yeh hai...")

The point is: I like you, I think. I know we've met all of six times. I know I may be wrong about liking you. But then, after all, there's the thing.

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