My ex-girlfriend Bari came back to town.
Being quite the socialite, she was flitting about from one social engagement to the other but told me she had an hour for drinks last night.
The daughter of immense wealth, Bari has done quite well for herself.
I met her during the period where I like to say she was "slumming it." Her parents had cut her off (for reasons not relevant here) and we lived an incredible life of poverty. A whirlwind romance, we moved in together after dating just three weeks. Two weeks after that, we both lost our jobs.
I donated plasma twice a week to pay our bills. We scavenged for change in the chairs of coffee shops so we could afford those five dollar pizzas from Little Caesars that would feed us for days.
She left me for men that would take care of her and prudently used that time to build her career.
She is now some sort of business consultant. She makes more money than I can dream of. She talked lightly about how she has crisscrossed the country several times, how she knows famous musicians and artists, how she is going to Iceland in March. Everything comes easy to her.
She said she has no need for anything, she has everything she could possibly want, so her time is just left to pursuing whatever interests her.
I heard a touch of sadness in her voice, so I pressed her on it. She confessed to being lonely.
"I have control over every single aspect of my life" she said, "except this. I have no control over when I will meet the guy I am supposed to end up with."
I laughed at her belief in control. I told her that she was like some character in a Fitzgerald novel.
"In a good way, I hope."
"no" I said, "in a tragic way."
"Tragic? why?"
I mentioned something about all the cliches of the emptiness of success, the loneliness of wealth.
She corrected me. She told me how very happy she was. Her eyes indicated otherwise, but I didn't push the subject.
She continued on about her success and how it wasn't luck, she had worked hard for it and deserved it all.
I wanted to lash out at her oblivious privilege, I wanted to sagely quote from Lao Tzu, I wanted to lovingly open her eyes to the sadness she could not hide. I hated her and loved her and pitied her and was deeply jealous of her all at once.
Everything comes so easy for her. Or at least that's how she projects herself to the world.
As we drank (and we drank a lot) I confessed to her the darkness of where I am; the way I have been suffering alone.
I felt I could tell her these things because they wouldn't matter. They would just be absorbed and forgotten like water in the soil of a parched plant.
I told her things that I am afraid to even write on here.
She touched my leg sweetly. She told me I can make it if I just work hard. She told me that she loved me.
Then she got in an Uber and went to some party downtown.
I stayed at the bar and drank.
Perhaps I too am a character in a novel.
I wonder how things will end for any of us.
7:08 a.m. - 2017-01-04
Recent entries:
Four More Years - 2017-01-23
Resemblance - 2017-01-22
I am feeling... - 2017-01-19
Not much to say. - 2017-01-14
I am so tired of all this. - 2017-01-08
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