At least, not alone
April 10, 2002 @ 3:50 p.m.
My sociology class never fails to depress me. Today we spoke of how our class in society is mostly influenced by our parents' class.
Oh, how that is not good.
The good doctor said that it wasn't always true, as he was a case in point. But the field of sociology looks at general trends in society...and that happens to be one of them.
If you know me, you probably know my family situation. My mother is a workaholic, although not by choice. My father is a lazy fuck whose house is being foreclosed upon and he feels terribly horrible about it, but won't do anything to fix the situation.
Neither of my parents attended regular college. My mother decided she would be better off working and my father was a blue-collar worker by blood. He thought he would be in the good old factory forever, telling raunchy stories and laughing it up with the boys.
He was laid off because of his alcoholism in 1998. He has not worked since then.
All of his life insurance has been cashed in. He has no savings left...he sells personal belongings to buy cigarettes. Alone.
I don't want to be like that.
My mother works one full time job and at least two other part time ones. She slaved to give my brother and I a Catholic education that she had as a child. When I ask for money, being desperate and feeling guilty, she always gives it.
She always provided a place to sleep, food to eat, and anything she could provide me that I wanted. But to do so, she had to become something she never wanted to be. A rat stuck in a horrible maze that is corporate machismo. She works her ass off and there are no benefits, no love provided, no lasting. Alone.
I don't want to be like that.
I don't know what frightens me more, ending up like my parents or being alone. I think perhaps being alone. I've already been alone all my life as far as companionship goes...who's to say it will ever happen? Who's to say that I just won't be alone forever?
The thought of being alone in my bed even one more night makes my breath catch, makes me wait for the shiver that may never come.
Is companionship honestly too much to ask? Being held while lying in bed, listening to rain? Picnics, and laughter, and tears cried in all the right places? I want to share problems with someone, I want to share everything with someone. I want him to yell at me and I to yell at him and then we fall into a giant hurricane and one of us corrupts a miracle and we're together again.
I know relationships aren't all light and bright...there are dreary days, weeks, months. But I want that. I want to go through hell with someone and come back, and still be with them. I want to laugh with them until my side aches. I want to be able to sit there and just look at them and be perpetually amazed by them.
I want to sob so hard that my body shakes and my nose runs all over his shirt. I cry in front of the very few. I want to make sure he's one of them.
I want to wake up and be surrounded in his smell. I want him to yell at me and feel sorry afterwards. I want someone, to feel something, for me. I want someone to be with me.
Make me feel alive and attractive and pleasant. At least, not alone.
John Mayer's "Love Song for No One" summarizes it. Pure and simple.
At least then I wouldn't be alone.
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- - March 22, 2010
always the same - July 01, 2008
b-a-n-a-n-a-s! - December 25, 2006
elementary again - October 29, 2006
I don't like you, but I love you - October 03, 2006