Passing Out Loaded Guns

I saw Steve last Saturday evening for what may be our last Saturday get-together for awhile. I told him I had some gigs coming up and my weekends would be full. He seemed to accept it, though he did look away, and divert his gaze, suggesting to me that there may have been some feelings of rejection on his part.

I also invited Steve to Uriah's 1st birthday party. I wish he could just let himself go. He has spent so much time on the outside looking in--always the cool observer--that something as simple as involving himself in the celebration of a child's 1st year on Earth is painful. He told me as much. He told me as much in his body language. He started squirming in his seat right away. It was like he was already looking for an excuse (even though I know he has nothing to do, nowhere to go). It is so lame. I ended up telling him as much. I guess it was my turn to rant.

When I went off I didn't think about Steve or his so-called tenuous state of existence. He likes to make people think he is on the edge... some sort of precipice... and if you dare offend him (though he likes to offend everyone else) you will be responsible for pushing him over the edge. In all honesty Steve--if you read this--you know I think it is a pretty heady Power-Trip you get on when you do that. You like to think you are not at all emotional in your tenuous relationship with existence, but you force others to tread lightly for fear of guilt and shame in saying something that 'pushes you off your little perch' and into the abyss.

Honestly, I think it is cheap to do that to people. Here is my decades-long Buddy taking a stance of indifference and dis-illusionment with the world, and yet subtly--as an undercurrent, in the background--there is this vibe I feel around him that puts me on edge. I feel like I have to tread lightly and censor myself for fear of the repercussions that Steve himself suggests are imminent.

That sucks! Steven and I have always prided ourselves on being honest with each other. So here you have it Steve (a continuation from Saturday's rant).


THE LOADED GUN

I'd like to think I am above and beyond handing someone hell-bent on suicide a loaded weapon. And yet, at some point in time I get sick of the talk (which often means the subtle manipulations of others that goes along with the suicide pose). "Just do it then!" I feel like saying. Shit or get off the pot! I mean, if you were really that serious about what you say you are serious about then why would you go on talking about it everytime the conversation comes around to you. Is it your way of controlling the mood of our relationship? Is it your way of maintaining the power to determine the course and contours of our exchanges? And if it is then quit being such a God-damned Narcissus!

I am sorry.... but I thought a friendship was supposed to be an exchange.... a communion.... a process of reciprocity---of giving and receiving.

I told Steve I was personally offended that he made no effort to spend time with Uriah. It was as if he could give a shit that he was alive or not. I mean we are talking friends here!! I have and know superficial acquaintances who have spent more time with Uriah than a best friend! What the fuck is that??

Ohhh.... and about that birthday party... I am sorry it can't be all about you Steve.