maybe it's the hormones, I could blame this on, that emotional roller coaster, but no, I was feeling this for awhile, already seeking a way to extricate, and evidence piling up only confirms that feeling intuited a month ago. I find it easier to bail sooner rather than later, all hesitations validated, all red flags signaling no. Creativity especially with others is a strange thing, and sometimes you just don't click with others and it's better to figure that out now than later, and I'm not convinced by concessions made, I don't want to make those concessions.
Explaining this over the phone at 1am makes no sense and makes me sound like a jerk, and it shouldn't bother me that a good friend might think less of me because of this unsurety about the motivations of others, that maybe rankles the most. I don't know if there's anything else I could do. I go back and forth between relief and regret.I hope I haven't lost too much here.
are there any good conversations to be had at 1am on the phone with people in your own timezone? get some rest.
ReplyDeleteWe'd hide in those years, Kate and I, behind the last station
in the Bio lab—sneaking down from our dorm room, certain
Sister Andrea didn't know. Smoking Salems, we giggled
above the slant of a copped flashlight shrunk to Lady Chatterly
and John Thomas spirited from the nuns' private library
where we smiled our way by dust cloths and Pledge.
We lived as sheltered vagabonds then, roaming the convent halls
in curlers and bunny slippers, dipping out of sight at the swish
of habit skirts, the click of rosary beads: the bed-check patrol
we sidetracked with puffed-up pillows buried beneath blankets
in the low glow of a Virgin Mary night light. Our days opened
and shut like the hard-backed books we lugged around
in drawstring sacks from class to class, skimming their surfaces
like fledglings dipping at the skin of a lake. Only half mindful
of the lessons electric in the passion of our teachers, half alert
to the gaining weight of our widening minds.
"Flying Lessons" by Bernadette McBride
http://www.ttbook.org/book/librarily
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