If your love, your love, your love is Kesha's drug, then this is mine.
My achievement for the day was NOT eating the whole tub.
Be proud of me. It was hard work. But I knew that if I didn't I wouldn't have anything for breakfast.
Actually, I'm feeling marginally better about the whole car thing today, because I realised that it's not like the boyfriend breakup I had thought it was. It's a friend breakup instead.
My best friend from high school is getting married Friday week. I mean, what the shit? We're 22... How the hell did that happen? But then, how the hell did we go from spending 8+ hours a day together, and talking on msn most nights, to maybe seeing each other in passing once a month? My brain says that it shouldn't have happened, but then, maybe it should have. Time goes by and time brings changes*, and all that jazz. We're different people, our lives have gone in different directions, and it's hard to make more of a commitment to someone from years past than a facebook friending. At no point were there tears, or shouting, or angry recriminations or blame. The world's full of people, and they come and go. They touch your lives, make a difference, and then, they don't need to anymore. There are other people whose lives need touching. But that doesn't mean the people from your past cease to exist, or cease to matter. They just cease to be involved in your day to day existence. All you can hope is that they're happy somewhere, and try to be happy yourself, because I think that's what drives everything we do. The quest to make ourselves happy, and others happy.
Recently, most of my so called "perfect moments" have been with my car. Driving through my town, usually at night, music on loud, feeling that everything is right in the world, and that in spite of all my misgivings, I'm right where I should be. But the thing I've been forgetting is that it wasn't about the car. It was about me. About being comfortable in myself, in my world, in my moments. Because I just remembered having this exact conversation some 4 years ago, when I was worried that by giving up Elsie (she was a little corolla - LC) I'd be letting go of a part of myself. The part where I was independent of the people around me. The part that was just me, untethered to anything and free of everything. But I know this time what I didn't last time. You let go of some of yourself, and more pops up to fill the hole. Already, I feel comfortable in my new car. She's not even mine yet, but I sit in her and feel like I'm home. I know full well that within 6 months, we will be the best of friends. And that in 5 or 6 years time, I'll be going through this again. Letting go of a big hunk of metal I've essentially put an invisible friend in.
At least invisible friends don't invite you to their weddings and make you wonder what the hell happened to your life...
Nonetheless, Glenn, even though I can't make it to your wedding, and you will never read this, I wish you all the happiness in the world.
Same for you BJ. You two were some of the best friends I ever had. And now I need to convince myself I'm not letting you both down.
*yes, that is the song from Cars. It's all circular, people...