what does it matter

I sat across from my friend and he shook his head and said, You look at things so black and white. He was wrong but I acted like he was right. He was right and I was right and we thought things which would seem to contradict. There are so many shades of gray. I want to paint my life in shades of gray and find gold.

* * *

My friend called and said she could not practice yoga with me because she felt depressed and wanted to stay home and take care of herself. I called her back and left her a message and I said, It would pass. And then I thought about how I battle with depression and how I’m always afraid it will come back and never leave and that will be the end of me.

* * *

I dislike people for very personal reasons. They are my reasons, based on who knows what, and they are reasons that can change. The people I dislike, it has little to do with them and a lot to do with me. If it were you and me trekking the wilderness and things went bad, I would not abandon you. That is how I feel about all the people I dislike, when it comes down to it, all the small disappointments, the ways in which we failed each other, what does it matter. I wouldn’t leave you to die on some snowy mountain top. I wouldn’t leave your body on the road, to be eaten by scavengers. You may think that’s not much but that’s what I have to offer.

* * *

I’m touched you came back for me, he said.

Why wouldn’t I? I asked.

* * *

Recently I organized a literary event and told people I did so because I wanted to create a literary community in Los Angeles. But that was mostly a lie. I organized an event because my best friend went to rehab and my friend of friend committed suicide and I was bored with work. What the hell was I going to do. I wanted to cry and felt hollow and the person I usually talked to was figuring it out in rehab. So I did what I could do. I organized an event.

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