Baggage

Stef was back from Maine by mid-morning and the two of us spent the day, for the most part, in different rooms, working on our homework. She was much more productive than I was, as I ended up taking an extended nap in the late afternoon to ward off the anxiety and disappointment building in me after the minimal amount of writing I got done earlier in the day. To really give you a good picture of my mindset towards the end of the day, let me paint this scene: Stef comes downstairs, tired from her own work, and asks me a question about dinner. She wants to know whether I want to go out and grab something or whether I’m up for cooking. I snap at her a bit, telling her if we go out every time I’m in a bad mood and don’t feel like cooking, we’re going to spend an awful lot of money we don’t need to spend.

She went away for a few minutes while I started supper and then eventually came back into the kitchen, at which point I told her that I didn’t think she should be with me anymore. I told her that I am an unhealthy person to be around, that I simply breed anxiety and depression and malcontent in people, and that’s not what she needs right now. I postulated that this is the reason why I don’t see my friends that often, that they know what she doesn’t, that I can only be taken in small doses.

She looked at me like I had three heads.

Seriously, though. There is something to my theory. Most of the people I know have more stress in their own life than they can handle. Why would they want to subject themselves to me and my bullshit on a regular basis? They don’t want to do that. That’s plain to see by my relative lack of a social life, this weekend notwithstanding. Stephanie, on the other hand, is subjected to me on a daily basis.

So, all I was trying to get across to her is that in this time of transition for her, as she prepares to embark on a new career, doing what she really loves to do, is that she would be better off without me. Most people would. I wasn’t even particularly depressed by that thought. I understand who I am, the baggage I bring to the table, and I understand now why people may not want a part of that. And I accept it. It’s just the way it is.