I'm sitting here with the windows open, the rain falling, and From Under the Cork Tree on my record player. You might think I'm lazy, but the Christmas lights I left on my floor lamp are lighting this room just right.
My alma mater, St. Bonaventure, advanced tonight to the Sweet 16 in women's basketball. They're up against #1 Notre Dame on Sunday afternoon in Raleigh, my figurative backyard, and it'd be a privilege to see them play. There's a rather large contingent of Bona alumni in this area, my ex included, and I've already made the rounds on Facebook, seeing who's going to go. Days like today however, despite the joy and pride in my school, are dampened by the sinking feeling that the people I once considered close friends are nothing but people who post on Facebook. Reduced to likes and the occasional comment.
That moment when you realize you are utterly and totally alone.
It's nearly entirely my fault. I sort of put us all in this place, on the course that got us here. That got me here. I quit drinking and ruined a marriage, made people make choices, and they didn't choose me. Most of the time I don't blame them. I don't know if I would have picked me either.
The b-side is over. I'm sitting here with nothing but the steady rain. I get this twinge in my chest on nights like these. It's some kind of bittersweet pang of wishing I could hold on to something again, even but for a minute. I texted my ex tonight, asked her if she'd want to go, if it wasn't too soon or too awkward. We're still familiar strangers, but I don't ever want to go back in the direction I came from. Even if sometimes I wish I still had my friends.
Thunder erupts, a sharp clap breaking the rhythm of the rain. Is that the universe's agreement with my statement? I really like where I'm headed. That's enough for me.