The thing about misery is it gets old fast.
I always knew misery loves company. What I didn't know was how company will do everything to keep misery off its front porch.
I was miserable for some time, probably still am, but all I really got from the whole experience - is that no one gives a damn. No surprise there. Everyone has got something on their plate, and misery, is something no one ever wants a helping of.
I remember this one time I tried to tell a friend, a friend I've known for ten years or so, how I was having a bad day. Her only response was, "What is it this time?"
And I thought, dammit, I'm boring her.
That was company slamming the door at my face. It stung. It sucked. I thought "How did we stay friends for ten fucking years?"
Then I realized, that it probably was because this was the first time in our decade long friendship, when it wasn't all sunny in my Philadelphia.
Probably the first time I badly needed someone to air my frustrations to. Probably the first time I badly needed someone to listen. She probably didn't know how to deal with that. I don't know. She probably wanted to get even for something I did or failed to do. She probably couldn't find the time to deal with my being a pain in the ass. Or probably, she was simply not interested and could not be bothered to pretend like she was. I'll never know. All I have is an outrageous amount of probabilities. There are some things you so badly want to know, but will never ask. This is one of those things.
Misery, no matter how hateful that feeling is, sort of taught me some important things. It's that time in your life when even if you're not up for it, you'll be forced into facing the realization of what kind of friends you have. If you're one of the blessed few, you will come to understand that whatever, whenever, your friends will have your back. And if you're not, you'll realize you're like me.
I guess this is the part where I try not to sound too angry, by leaving the rest to Ben Folds.