[personal profile] icecreamemperor
Hi livejournal, how is everyone? Asleep? Oh, ok, good.

I am pretty sad right now. I liked someone; I told them; they don't like me back. Hopefully we'll be back to being really good friends in a month or two -- down from... eight ? months the last time I tried this -- and I'll be back to only being sad the usual, usually-manageable amount.

I made an emotional-logistic mistake by initiating the like/don't like conversation while I was in a place with this person (and several other people) that I wasn't supposed to leave for another day and a half, while also not having anyone around to talk to about my feelings who wasn't the person in question. So I bailed and drove home through a bit of snow and a phenomenal windstorm circa Bellingham -> Blaine. It seemed like the best of the poor options I had provided myself.

You can fit a lot of crying into a six hour car ride, when you are me and you are exhausted and time is meaningless -- but I was grateful to the occasionally scary weather conditions, because when you are driving through driving snow without any snow tires the question of whether you are going to die alone becomes a minor subset of the question of whether you are going to die in the next five minutes. A trite sort of perspective, I guess, but I was grateful for perspective of any kind.

I was also grateful to the brief period in the post-Seattle, pre-Bellingham stretch of I-5 woods where time stopped completely: it was dark and clear, but there was snow on the cedars, white enough that the ambient light from the headlights made it seem like the tips of all the branches were in a bright moonlight, while the rest of the tree was normally-shadowed. The speed of the car and direction of the headlights created a kind of slide-show rhythm, so that the road appeared to be displaying a cyclical series of nearly-identical, disembodied white branches, that would strobe in and out of focus. This is when time began to move in a circle -- or, I guess, because of the curvature of the road, a sort of weirdly deformed circle. The point is, it was beautiful -- beautiful enough that me and the driver of the truck in the other lane both simultaneously slowed down, subconsciously matching the speed of the visual cycle to our heartbeats -- and it is probably still happening.

Anyways, it was that last thing that I wanted to tell you about, but thanks for listening to the rest too.

Date: 2017-01-02 08:34 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hsifyppah.livejournal.com
and it is probably still happening.

I love it when you post. There is always something so lovely inside.

I'm sorry for the sads.

Date: 2017-01-02 06:19 pm (UTC)

Date: 2017-01-02 09:07 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lilmissnever.livejournal.com

I'm glad you didn't die and I'm sorry that you're sad. Dying in a snowstorm is poetic, but we are not poetry.

Date: 2017-01-02 06:19 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] icecreamemperor.livejournal.com
Yeah. Thanks. I just wish I had realized that before I spent most of my life trying to become the most beautiful poem in the room.

Date: 2017-01-03 10:04 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] taxi.livejournal.com
A cold road I been down, as you well know. I do miss the snow, and to be honest the driving, tho not the prices.



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