Black Hole Sun, Won't You Come
Tonight I got to talk to TWO of my closest friends in the whole d*mn world. I am funny that way - my dearest friends are people who you can not speak with for days/weeks/months and yet pick up exactly where you left off, and not feel guilty for not communicating enough. I can't do the whole "best friend" thing. Can't even call anyone my "best friend" - it makes me feel obligated and I end up hating them. Not something I like about myself, but it is better to recognize the truth rather than try to change to be someone I am not.
You all know Niel - she's my girl. An old soul who teaches me history and compassion for humanity, yet goes to loudsmashingmoshingfreakshows of concerts with me just 'cause she loves me that much. She doesn't even know the music - just goes because I want to. When she calls to tell me about her day or just to get some Mama T Time she has a way of making me feel like ... like I am needed. Fun. Wise. Loved. Important. Like I still exist...even though I have been gone from my Kenny's Staff for over 8 months now. I am a better wife, mother, friend and employee because I have a Niel in my life.
My other friend Kelli started out as my daycare provider when Taylor was a baby. When Taylor began pre-school, we continued our friendship over the phone. I kid you not, I have seen her maybe 10 times in the last 10 years...and still, I need her so. (Sad part is that she lives 12 miles away...count 'em...12, and I never see her.) Hours upon hours have been spent discussing hopes and dreams and frustrations with husbands (J-Man still calls Kelli when things need translation...she speaks his language and can talk him down from the roof, and likewise, I understand her Guy better than she does.) children, careers, religion, money, past lives and all of their victories and shaming moments, personal and social psychology. We truly have an amazing repertoire - nothing is off limits.
Except me being this crazy.
How can she be older than I am and not understand this ...place...that I am in? How can she not feel the pressure, the growling need, the gnawing to LIVE...to keep moving, to make a difference in our lifetime? What are the words I can use to describe the desperation I feel? She tries to make sense of me, but cannot grasp the concept that I feel like everyone around me is fading away in front of the TV or dying, drowning in their apathy towards life - and taking me with them!
I am at a loss for words. Perhaps it is a word choice itself that is causing the inability to find commiseration.
Or perhaps I am crazy in an original, new and undocumented way.