|this desert life|
Last night we had our first gathering at the house since we've all been here together. Me and Clare called all kinds of random people in our phones and had a small but cool group of people here. It was nice to have people over - we got a lot of complements on the house, what a nice space it is, so on and so forth. There's always that one person's house of which you're jealous, you want to hang out there all the time, so on and so forth - I think that's us. And that's pretty cool.
There was, however, a kid here last night with whom both Clare and I were friends, now he's only friends with Clare. And for whatever random reason, he's decided that he doesn't like me. It wouldn't bother me so much if I didn't like him a lot; me, him and Clare had a lot of fun hanging out back when he still treated me like a friend, and I really enjoy his company. He kind of arbitrarily decided that I wasn't his cup of tea, and my theory is that he kind of needed to be nice to me in order to get close to Clare, and now that he and Clare have a friendship that doesn't need the crutch of mutual friends, he was able to show his true feelings. It also bothers me because I never gave him a reason, persay, to dislike me. People disliking me is one thing; people who dislike me for no reason, and who change their minds in the middle of nowhere, is another animal. I don't know. It bothers me. It shouldn't.
Either way, he was civil to me throughout the night, and even said a few nice things here and there. But he was also pretty curt and rude a lot. I'm not going to specifically ask Clare to ask him why he acts the way he does towards me, but I told her that if it happens to come up in conversation, maybe she should do a little detective work. After all, I did give him a glass of Charles Shaw. In my book, that should win anyone over.
It's cold and overcast in Santa Fe. It was gorgeous for so long, and now it's just been really gross. Very much like home, but without the humidity. I know it will get sunny and warm and beautiful again - this weather is an anomaly, especially in early September - but I'm impatient for it. I want the sun shining so I can get beautiful pictures of the wild sunflowers. I'm so emo.
Other than all that... I'm mostly just afraid of feelings. I shouldn't be, and I'm trying not to be. But it's been a while since I've let myself feel anything real for anyone - at least anything of any substance. There was always my little mistake a few summers ago, and I guess that served to scare me away even moreso than I already was. I don't know.
Am I being cryptic enough for you?
I love how my writing style just did a total 180 in my time away. Now I'm all subdued. Stoic, even. I used to have all these emotional flagellations all over the page. Er, screen. And now it's like... hmmm, quiet musings on wildflowers and too-strong coffee.
I think I retreated too far into the reasonableness shell. I'm silencing that emotional part of me that used to be far too big to even pretend to hide. It will take some work to bring it out again. Bear with me.