Arguing With Myself

“She didn’t answer your last message to her you know.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that…I invited her over for dinner.  We ate.  Talked.  She shared some personal stuff and I shared some personal stuff.  We watched a movie.  She was here for five hours.  She even texted me saying she had a great time.”

“So?”

“Then I invite her over a month later.  And she never answered me.  I know she saw my message, too.  It said so on Facebook.”

“So she’s ungrateful.  Maybe she thinks you’re ungrateful, too.  After all, she still lives at home with her parents.  She sees you in a house, married to a guy who’s supporting you.  Who made you two dinner.  Who went out to get pizza when the food didn’t come out right.”

“Yeah…he’s good at that.”

“What?”

“Showing people that side of him.”

“What so he’s not nice?”

“Yeah, he is.  Usually…  When it isn’t taxing for him.”

“Really?  What about all those nice things he’s done?”

“Yeah.  I know.  I remember.  I know I’m guilty.”

“So lay off him.”

“I can’t.  It’s hard.  You remember how he was in private when I got sick.  How he snapped at me.  Got angry with me.  Even recently.  When he thought it was happening again.  He yelled at me.  But when other people are around he’s all sweet and caring.”

“So maybe you bring that out in him.  You remember what that lady said.  Being married to someone and living with that person, you get to see that side other people don’t.  Maybe your friend thinks you’re too ungrateful for what you have.”

“Ex-friend.”

“Whatever.”

“Why does everyone think they can dump all their problems on me, but when I have something to say, they just disappear??”

“You’re like a shock to their system.”

“Fuck you.”

“You are.  People don’t care about you.  They just want you to listen to them.  And when you try to help them, they belittle your ideas and shit all over you just to feel better.  You know how these people are.  When are you ever going to learn?”

“Because I still feel like I can see the good in people…”

“You’re just stupid.”

“Shut up.”

“It’s true.”

“Well, at least I don’t give up on people.  I’m trying really hard not to give up on myself.”

“Oh, really?  What are you doing then?  What did you do today?”

“I did the dishes today…I ran a mile on the treadmill.  And I’m tired.  I only got five hours of sleep.  I haven’t been sleeping well every night lately.  It’s hard.”

“So lie down.  Take a nap.”

“I did.  I tried.  I didn’t fall asleep.  My mind kept racing.  I tried.”

“So…what else did you try?  Huh?”

“I did a lot of writing.  I did some reading.  But I couldn’t concentrate-”

“Oh, right.  That ‘learning disability’ you have.  Sure.”

“Fuck you.”

“And what about your cousin?  She didn’t get back to you about coming over with her kids.”

“I know.  I don’t know why she kept messaging me on Facebook.  I don’t know why she kept saying she wanted to get together.  That she would LOVE to come over.”

“Maybe it’s you.  Maybe you’re the toxic one.  Maybe you’re the one who can’t be saved.”

“You know she’s from my father’s side.  You know everyone hates my mother on his side.  You know her mother hates mine.  You know that’s why I don’t want kids.  I don’t want them growing up the way I did.”

“Uh huh.  Sure.”

“Don’t start.  Okay?  Not now.  I’m not feeling well.  I’m doing my best.  Okay?  Just lay off…”

“Oh, yeah?  What’s that on your right forearm?  You’re doing your best, huh?”

“…”

“Why is it scabbed over like that?”

“I had dry skin.  I just scratched a bit.”

“Then why did it bleed?  From dry skin?  Really?  Seriously??”

“Yes.  That’s all it was.”

“Like that time you took that insulin needle from school and cut yourself repeatedly?  Then blamed it on your cat?  No one’s stupid enough to believe that.”

“Let’s not do this now.  Not anymore.  I can’t take it anymore…”

“Who do you think you’re fooling?”

“Just stop.  Okay?  Stop…”

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