Rehearsals for Departures

Gotta admit folks.  I’m feeling the pensive these days.  I’ve been trying to figure out where these clouds of melancholy are coming from.  You know the one… the kind which lodges inside your chest cavity and won’t let go?  So, I’ve been going through my mental checklist, of things which usually would or should bother me.  And the truth is, none of the usuals are cranking my chain. Mr. Mix and I are cruising in the happy convertible.  Sweet Pea and Drama Queen are enhancing the fine street art of sibling rivalry, but otherwise hunky dory.  I love my work, I have wonderful friends…

So why am I feeling…lonely? Yep, that’s it.  I feel disconnected, even in the midst of all this good.

And to answer the question I KNOW some of you are thinking, uh NO, I did NOT stop taking my meds.  And I’m NOT depressed about turning 40.

Now that I’m all free associating and all, I think I’m still mourning the loss of a friend of mine…you see, I’m an only child, which means friends are, like, heavily layered and meaningful for me and shit.  Once I love you, I mean REALLY love you as a friend, that’s it. You’re usually in for life.

Um, I guess until you’re not.

This friend is not a bad or malicious person.  And in very different ways, this person was one of the best hangs around.  But I made a promise to myself when turning the big 4-0 that I’d only have cheerleader-type friends in my life from now on (see previous post).  And I’m sticking to it. 

I am sure that this person feels I let them down as well…and I’m sure on some level, that’s true.  But if s/he takes a moment, s/he knows full well that I loved them dearly, and even though I’m not the easiest person to deal with, all I ever wanted for them was to find out what made them happy.

But that happy can’t come at my expense. I can’t put up with someone always living glass-half-empty or with thinly veiled, passive aggressive jabs.  You got a problem with me, then spill it like a big kid or shut the fuck up. You can’t find the happy, then get your own therapist and get on some meds already. 

So I’ve been cleaning house.  And while it’s necessary, it doesn’t mean it’s easy for me either. So there.

10. “Circle,” (Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians) Shooting Rubberbands at the Stars.

09. “Don’t Panic,” (Coldplay) Parachutes.

08. “Phantom Mountain,” (Laura Veirs) Wrecking.

07. “Unraveling,” (Deb Talen) A Bird Flies Out.

06. “The Funeral,” (Band of Horses) Everything All the Time.

05. “Last Goodbye,” (Jeff Buckley) Grace.

04. “Lonely,” (Tom Waits) Closing Time.

03. “Pitseleh,” (Elliott Smith) XO.

02. “Rehearsals for Departure,” (Damien Jurado) Rehearsals for Departures.

01. “Revelation Big Sur,” (Red House) Songs for a Blues Guitar.

2 responses to “Rehearsals for Departures

  1. I’m glad to see a post. You hadn’t done one in a while. I’m glad that you are relatively okay.

    I recently fired some friends because, at 55, I don’t have the time or the patience for high maintenance friends. I prefer friends whose balls I can bust and (they can bust mine) without worrying about hurt feelings. I think true friends don’t have to tread on egg shells around each other. I’m reminded of the quote from Bob Dylan’s Chronicles Volume I where he said, and I’m paraphrasing here, “The thing I love the most about my wife is she’s never once held me responsible for her happiness”. I’ve always believed that only I am responsible for my happiness and I don’t burden my wife or my friends by expecting them to make me happy. Happy is between my own two ears. If other people make me unhappy I don’t expect them to change, I just cut them out of my life. Life’s too short to have to apologize to the same people over and over again for perceived slights. I’ve adopted a “No asshole” rule. If someone is an asshole or overly sensitive, I have no use for them. If they think I’m an asshole fine. I really could give a shit less.

    I hope to see more frequent posts in the future as think you’re a great writer and I love your “voice”.

    Cheers.

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