I'm coming home at 11 tonight: slip out of work a little early, get the weekly gym fix done, brave the blue-collar infested roads of mall-closing time, and drop by a friend's place to offer a hand. It isn't perfect by all means but I think it will work and I've committed myself and it made me feel proud to.
And you called wondering what I was up to, insisting that I continue to do what I have to if I had things to do, instead of telling me outright that you really wanted to see me. This I discovered, hanging on to a rusty railing as my crowded homeward bus sped too far from where you are.
But even then, I thought you'd still be alright, flurries of texts running alongside my hurtling bus. You told me you wanted a little affection, and I said I've got places to go and things to do, but tomorrow I'll see you, if only for a second, and the day after I'll see you again, if only for a meal. Such will be our tango until we find a common place we can both return to after a long day's toil, enjoy the abundance of time in each others company, and call that place "home".
And I fulfilled my friend's deed, while worrying about how you were doing or what it was you wanted to talk about. And you did want to talk, about the hidden cues and the ardent longing to see me tonight. I didn't know, being the kind of guy who likes to hurtle from one task to another. I really didn't know, though I felt something was amiss.
I guess it just frustrates me that I'm keeping to my commitments as best as I can, doing as much good as i can, make a dignified man of myself, and earn as much honor and respect as a few young years could. I do these things, these multitude of tiny quiet sacrifices, because I feel that it's me destiny to continually fling myself as far as i can and help as many as I can.
But though I never tell you, all this I also do for you: to be the kind of guy that offers a time and keeps it, who's a friend to those who need it or don't, to be a steady force that moves consistently through life with clear eyes and sound judgement--just to be someone you deserve, because you really do deserve so much more than I have gathered and built for the past 23 years I've lived in this world.
I try really hard, and I'm past the point of thinking I can try harder. This is me and my jumbled-up life, it's a mess, but I built it out of goodwill, my dreams, determination, and sheer love for my family and friends. It's a selfless vortex I consistently put myself and I've been happy so far.
But tonight I stepped inside our home at 12, skipping out of critical work, shortcutting gym, and barely finishing a task for my friend, and then cutting off your call that should have lasted longer. I'm not saying I'm a victim here, I'm just saying that maybe this is how the world wants me to play my cards, and five bets down, I feel like crap. I really just wanted to say that.
