Talking About a Pretty Sunset... sort of

prevOct. 16, 2003 - 4:11 a.m.next

Krystal knows how bummed I am ;) and she sent me to watch the hippos. Long story.

Did I mention that I talked to Leens on AIM the other morning? It was quitin' time here in the US (meaning around 4:30 or 5am), but it was startin' time there in London. Nothing much was said other than chat; she has no idea how torn up I am about all of this. So how do I deal with this? Yeah, I've got Modest Mouse's "Talking Shit About a Pretty Sunset" on repeat right now because it was so much 'us' back in New Mexico in '02. I'll never be able to hear MM without thinking about her. And this song more than any.

"Changed my mind so much, I can't even trust it. My mind changed me so much I can't even trust myself"

Tears were there before 10 measures had even gone by. I know I used to pick on her for her music, but it was only because she was the first person I had ever met who listened to what she listened to (if that makes sense). She really influenced me more than she knows. And not just in music: life, the way I look at people and the world around me. I really hate myself for what I did to us. I picked fights where there weren't any. I constantly questioned her beliefs and ideals...but she never understood it was because I had never met anyone like her, and I respected so much of what she thought (even when I disagreed), that I wanted to argue against it because I wanted to know so much of why she believed like she did, why she held the values she had. I didn't always understand her, but I always loved her.

Syracuse was rough for both of us, but that's because I was on her turf and she didn't know how to deal with me... and I was feeling the strain of a friendship that was about to be indeffinately separated by 4 states after we had been living in the same house for 3 months straight. Neither one of us knew what to do in Syracuse, and we failed.

However, when I think back to that visit, I remember Cinco Alto, "The Road to Kandahar", arranging the bedroom, taking pictures, dancing all freaking night to a band in a bar that some girl we barely knew got us into for free, the accidental 6 mile walk, the Syrajuice Olympics, red tennis shoes. I don't remember the "bad times" of time spent together; I just don't. I know that's an odd concept to understand or believe, but it's true. Ask Mel; she's had to learn about that herself. She thought my visit to Lincoln was a bust, but I could only name the good things.

Anyway...I miss Leenielove.

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