Last week Yoko held up a print magazine that said KILL YOUR BLOG on the back. "That’s what you did," she said. I try not to kill anything, but I am guilty of neglect.
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Right now it seems telling that I try not to observe my emotions when I type in this little textbox. I stick to anecdotes. Here are some anecdotes.
When I was a kid, middle school aged, my brother got in a fight with a friend of ours. Our friend was a wrestler, and proved it using my brother. I can’t remember why it was even happening. I hit our friend with my elbow and said "mother fucker." He wasn’t hurt, physically or emotionally. I don’t remember how the event was resolved.
Probably around the same age I had a fight with a different friend. All I remember from that was the next day at school. We agreed that we would "never fight again." We stayed friends through high school, and I don’t remember having another fight. I don’t think I’ve spoken to him since graduating.
This week a close friend of mine and I had a fight. I don’t know if "fight" is the right word, but I’m going with it. It was torturous: I sat at my desk for four days with not too much to do. Whenever I lost focus I would start to feel sick, wondering if I had completely destroyed this relationship that we’ve been developing for years. I wanted to call him last night, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I was terrified that I wouldn’t have anything to say and things would just get worse. Today I couldn’t eat until 5:15pm, and when I got home I called, and we spoke, and it felt so good to just speak. To have words coming and going. To realize our interactions wouldn’t be restricted to awkward non confrontational emails. To realize we are not a conflict – we are friends working through a conflict. As our voices flowed more I began to feel so much more like a human.
I am uncomfortable with presenting what I typed here. I feel like I am overstepping a boundary. But I don’t think it exists outside of me.