I miss this day. This was a few years back during a ridiculous summer when Nikky was staying with me for a little while. We took David and Kelsey in to Chicago with us to visit Jeff and to wander IKEA and all the crazy little shops we could think of. It was a good day. There were some things about it that I wish I could erase from memory, but I've realized that even the best days have a bit of weird, rash, or painful mixed into them.
Today I am recovering from a lot of NyQuil and a lot of sleep due to something weird I started feeling at some point yesterday and was completely miserable from. If you're wondering, I'm doing alright, but it left me in that almost hungover feeling that coming out of a lot of cold meds seems to induce. I've also realized that I'm pretty sure that it also helped me question things. Maybe I should just avoid all cold meds and perhaps I should just sleep more and question less.
I should definitely question less.
Unfortunately that doesn't happen. I'm pretty sure that no matter what I do questions follow.
After a week of wondering what the heck was wrong with the iPod, I finally got to talk to Jordan via the texting on the iPod. Yeah. That was a good time. It may sound silly, but going for that long without our ridiculous Room Service Game made me incredibly antsy, and I was pleased to talk to him on Friday and know he was very much still alive. Nothing could have pleased me more at that point.
Today though I started wondering, (sorry about the lack of segues) if perhaps the reason that I struggle with people anymore is that I cannot talk. I try not to talk on the phone. Facebook and this crazy blog are really the only places I open my stupid mouth. Probably for that exact reason too. Whenever I start to talk to other people I want to sing John Mayer's "Stupid Mouth." All the frickin' time.
How on earth are you going to meet people or get to know people if you never say any words? Really? Is there a way to do that? I haven't found it so far.
Sure, I think writing letters would work for that, but how are you supposed to do that at this point? No guy I have ever met has ever wanted to write a letter back. Can I blame them? No. Because it's probably pretty lame to most people or even if they like the letters they probably never feel like they have the words.
Do any of us really have the words?
I have so, so many words. I just am never sure they're the right ones.
Then again, maybe I'm just too much of coward to find out. Maybe I'm afraid I'm not enough.
There's a line in the song "The Time is Wrong" by Tickle Me Pink where he sings, "the darkest hours hold the brightest dreams..." I'll find them. Those dreams.
The night will get brighter again, and the darkness will sleep with my dreams.