My back hurts. I rarely work on my laptop and I rarely work sitting on a bench, but I had just met up with a friend from New York at this coffee shop before she left for the airport. This was her first trip to San Francisco and I think this is my fifth. I really hate this city.
I’ve started and stopped writing at least three different articles. They all have the same basic gist—I find that a lot of the time in my relationships I am simultaneously too much and not enough for the other person. A friend from college recently told me that she didn’t think I was a great girlfriend. Not that her and I were ever dating and she was giving me feedback, but she’s seen me date and knows people I’ve dated and as we were drunk on the bus the other day, she decided to tell me I was terrible. I am, and very aware of it, but it felt weird hearing it from someone else.
I read two articles earlier—both advice columns and both talking about relationships. I sent them to people I knew would need them. I needed them. One was on self-sabotaging and the other was on what to do when the person you like and want and who likes and wants you, ends up liking and wanting someone else too. Both made me feel kinda nauseous with how relevant they are to me right now.
The reason why I’ve started and stopped writing at least three different articles with the same basic gist is because I’m not sure how to address what’s going on. I really hate vulnerability and resent people who find it easy to be that way, so I normally try to make things that hurt me funny. It makes a lot of people not take me seriously. I’d rather that happen than let them know that I’m feeling things!! Could you imagine if people knew I was human?
My friend in LA told me she’d call me during her break because I am overflowing with emotion today. I had sent her 20 texts in a row. I told her to eat lunch instead because I’m pretending to do work.
The barista at this coffee shop just moved my table because I keep putting pressure on my lower back with my hands and keep bumping my arms into the person sitting behind me. I haven’t ordered anything in almost three hours, so I wonder if she’s annoyed with me. Is it cliché to write in coffee shops in San Francisco? Or is that only in LA and New York?
My Dad once told me that in serious conversations, the first person to show emotion loses. I’m wondering if my need to suppress my feelings is genetic.
There’s a good Frank O’Hara quote that fits how I feel today:
Why should I share you? Why don’t you get rid of someone else for a change?
I am the least difficult of men. All I want is boundless love.
This quote is all true. Except I am probably one of the most difficult people anyone has ever met.