Home is a Fire
I’m getting married in 111 days. This is fucking scary. We have a place to live, we have a car, we can even get a fucking cat. But her family is moving country, continent and hemisphere, she’s working just under twice as much as me on top of her study which I don’t have, she’s going to be poor for the first time in her life, she’s having pangs of doubt (which I hear is normal for women about to get married, but while I’m not worried she’ll leave me, it scares the living shit out of me (LIVING SHIT!)), she says I’m not ambitious enough, she says I’ll settle for being poor and that’s not good (apparently), she says she wants me to be happy, she’s stressed, she’s stressed at me, she’s stressed about her family, she’s stressed about her future, she’s stressed about the rest of her goddamn fucking life, she’s really fucking stressed, and I’m her only support.
But what about my support? My best friend has been going out with his girlfriend for four months now and I’ve met her once, and I’ve seen him three times since they started going out. My best friend. The guy I’ve considered the closest thing I’ll ever have to a brother. The guy who considers me the closest thing he’ll have to a brother. The guy with whom I spent seven years talking about nothing but music, girls and booze. The guy I missed most when I moved twenty minutes out of town. I have seen him three times in four months. No wonder I’m fucking losing it.
The people I do see are either not close enough emotionally to dump all this on, or have been dumping their shit on me (which I don’t mind, unless I’m actually upset already) and I’m scared to dump my shit on them. The only person there is is my mum. She’s great and all, but, I don’t know, she’s too similar to me, or something. Or maybe it’s the fact that she’s older, has been through worse (childbirth), and has advice. I don’t really want advice. I know what I need to do. I think I just want someone to listen to me and say “fuck man, that’s messed up! I think it’s crazy that anyone should be dealing with this, but considering how crazy things are, the fact that you haven’t imploded is pretty impressive.” Emotional validation, I guess, is what I’m after.
But in stead, it all comes out in this stream of consciousness blog entry that few people will see. But few people seeing it, is kind of the point of this blog. I started it so I could rant in a public place (that makes a difference for some reason) without feeling like I’m exposing myself to the whole world (or even all of the part of the world that knows me).
The title’s the name of the first song off Death Cab for Cutie’s new album. I put in on as I started writing. It kinda fit I guess. I feel lame for using a song title to title this, but hey, fuckit.
