Belonging

I've always been kinda on the outside of things.  In all honesty I am damned lucky I got laid, and losing my virginity was to a girl looking for a revenge fuck, a grudge lay to even out her feelings of rejection.

(I still haven't found a way to do that for my feelings of rejection, but that's another story.)  After that I married that girl for a few years.  When she was done with me, my money and my hopes, I went celibate for 6 years, which, in retrospect, should have been when I was looking for every one night stand possible.

Instead I held on to my dreams.  And now that's all I have is those dreams.  I'm a substitute teacher, but it's not gonna pay the Texas Student Loan people back soon, and I can be modest until I make those damned dreams come true.

Today, at the inner city school I mentioned earlier this week, I was asked at the last second, to see if I'd like to come to the after-school luncheon for the staff.  Sadly, the counselor that invited me over wasn't around, so I was uncertain where or who to eat with, and no one was saying, "Mr. G, come sit here with us."

So I picked up a plate, made small talk with some of the staff, and sat alone.  As I finished my meal, one of the other ELA teachers, Mrs. Reyes, called me over.  "Hey, here's some of the other staff on your floor."

My name made the rounds, hands were shook, and I smiled politely.  It was a charity bone, a pity bone, but I took it.  Everyone knows me, but since this is a new site, everyone's still got a little distance for me.  They don't know me, or my zombie phobia, or that I collect action figures, abhor shaving, know the difference between Dr. Pepper & Mr. Pibb, and go to church despite my knowledge of the future, and more than likely, my damnation. 

But in all honesty, I am a bit of an isolationist.  I think if I were to make millions on my writing, I'd be hiding in my mansion like Howard Hughes, saving my excrement, keeping my nails as long as freak show carny, and possibly, not knowing what got me there or why.

The cosmic joke: make millions & hide versus doing something good with it all besides paying my bills.

I may be here for a few more weeks, and I doubt I'll make friends worthy of a Christmas card.

But I know the friends I want, and the feelings I hide.

One day I could become socially grown, instead of emotionally stunted.

Anything's possible.

But there's time.

Good night for now.