So here's the trouble. Here's the thing I don't know how to deal with. I have a friend who was a casual friend, and then we became good friends, and then things got weird and now she hates me. *Hates* me. When we first started hanging out, I gave her a copy of my first book and signed it and so forth. Last week she burned it. Do you know how that feels. Writing is a difficult thing. It's a thing you do if you want to be unhappy and utterly expose yourself to the condemnation and judgment of utter strangers. I'm used to having my fiction reviewed, favorably and unfavorably. I'm not used to my former friends burning my book. It's god-fucking awful.
But here's the horrible trick. I think I love this girl. I can't be mad at her, no matter. All this stress I've been through, all this chaos and this drama... If she came to me tomorrow and said that she wanted to try to work it out... I'd jump into it with both feet. There's no one else like this, for me. Even my wife, and that's a horrible thing to realize.
Anyway. I don't like where I am, emotionally. I don't like where I am, socially. But mostly, I don't like that this person that I care so much about hates me so thoroughly.
Things never work out.
But here's the horrible trick. I think I love this girl. I can't be mad at her, no matter. All this stress I've been through, all this chaos and this drama... If she came to me tomorrow and said that she wanted to try to work it out... I'd jump into it with both feet. There's no one else like this, for me. Even my wife, and that's a horrible thing to realize.
Anyway. I don't like where I am, emotionally. I don't like where I am, socially. But mostly, I don't like that this person that I care so much about hates me so thoroughly.
Things never work out.