Flight

I'm no alcoholic but I have an addictive personality. That is I feel hard. Really hard. Once my feelings attach to something or someone it is not much different than being an alcoholic. Well, at least I don't have the busted liver, acidified blood, hang overs and the DWI arrests.

I saw Flight recently and Denzel played the hell out the role. I think he needs to win something for that performance. Very few movies affect me personally and this one did.

One thing an addict will tell you is that there are at least two things that they "enjoy": The anticipation of getting high. That is, knowing the high is coming. It isn't merely being looked for but it is going to be had. Secondly the actual event.

For me that is people. The past few years it was a person. Unrequited love or whatever the hell it was. But Flight made me see it for what it was: An addiction. Just as the addict seeks out the high and gets happy knowing it's coming, I would just be beside myself knowing I was going to see or speak to her. Haven't had it that particularly bad in a long time but there it is. Apparently it showed. A lot. People who barely knew me noticed it.

And like any addict will tell you, when the high is gone, they crash. Nothing is worse than the low after a high. And any addict will tell you each low is worse than the last.

She was my low as well. I knew exactly where things were going, or better yet not going and still looked forward to a word, a call, a message and an outing. Like the dope fiend that will do anything for the high. I would do anything to accommodate her. No request was too much. No distance to far to drive. No meal to expensive. Shit when we had gas rationing out here I drove my car to her aide (which turned out to be unnecessary) because well, I'm an addict.

Yesterday I kicked my habit. In the not to recent past I would have had a great laugh at the expense of some sorry negro who got all emotional and broke up about ending a "friendship" with someone who could have given two fucks about them "in that way". Well, obviously not any fucks at all.

I would have had a great deal of amusement at some sucker who allowed themselves to play "the man" when it was clear as day that they were not wanted like that. I would have told them they were stupid, a sucker and a good deal of other negative things.

Last night sitting in my darkened room, I was that sucker. That stupid mother fucker with his chest heaving and shit as he told someone he probably loved he could no longer remain in contact with her.

I've been on the other side of this situation. I never quite appreciated how it felt to be on the other end. The stupid ass "what did I do?" asked from the object of your affection who is likely totally clueless as to what they are to you (and the few who know full well and simply don't give a fuck).

I was once that dude who was the object of a huge crush. I did not care. If she wanted to hang out it was no problem. If she wanted to go out, no problem. She knows the deal right? Everybody and their mother knows that she is having major fantasies about love and marriage. Me? I'm just looking to have a good time and if she's game then so be it. I'm not even THINKING about how she may feel about being around someone she really really likes but who does not care. Worse, I'm going on about some other chick I'm seeing and the difficulties in that relationship and not even THINKING there's a problem 'cause "It's not like that and she knows it".

Yo. that is some cold cold cold food to dish to someone. And understand, people in that situation will eat that cold dish because in that time and space that dish is the onliest and therefore BEST dish ever. And each time I was around her she would hope that I would see how great a woman she was. And she was. And she thought if she played her cards right and kept herself available (even when she was fucking someone else or at least claiming to), I would come around to the great realization that She was for me.

The grand delusion. One I never thought I'd have. Karma is one long ass train with a funny ass schedule. But it arrives.

I know this because one day I got "The Letter". For those of you who haven't gotten "The Letter" before, understand that it will change you. The Letter explained to me everything I explained above. And you know how she finally moved on? After the letter I didn't hear from her again. And I'll be honest. It didn't even bother me that much. After all who needs the awkward conversation and the puppy dog eyes?

If you're like me you gotta go cold turkey if you want to kick a person habit. If you are so afflicted there is no "friend zone" with someone so oblivious to your feelings that they will continue to "hang out" and the like with you. They are using you plain and simple. Now it may or may not be vicious. It may not be intentional. I can't read minds. But plain and simple they will be getting far more out of the "friendship" than you.

Kind of like the dealer. He gets your hard earned cash, maybe a blowjob or sex. You? You get a brief high and an extra low and if you're really unlucky an incurable disease.

For a while I thought that perhaps I was simply being immature by not being able to handle being "the friend". I wasn't. People throw around "maturity" when they need to justify their positions or when they need to put other people down for not being able to handle situations the same way they would. People are unique. They are wired differently and respond to stuff differently. They are who they are. Any response that they have that allows them to remain healthy; to not be violent to themselves or others, is a good response. May not be the response we approve of. May not be the response we would prefer. But it is their response and their right to it. Respect that.

In the end, I had to do what any addict does. Kick my habit cold turkey. She had to go. And it's not because she was a bad person. Just like alcohol isn't inherently bad (brain cell and liver stuff aside). It is just that I can't handle being around it. Seeing and speaking to her was like an alcoholic going to a bar during happy hour. Not exactly a good idea. It's like having the drink in your hand and swearing up and down you won't have any. You're just trying to look social. But the whole time you are having a fight in your head: don't do it. but just a sip. Don't do it.

In the end, the resentment I felt at being what I consider used lead to a lot of anger. Just like you cannot keep being a drunk and expect to perform your work I was starting to vent at people that had done nothing to me. Redirected anger is OK when it's a punching bag. It's not OK when it's other people. It's not ok when it's yourself.

So I wanna thank Denzel and the universe for providing me with the vision and the message I needed to hear. I was lying to myself about my addiction. I was good at lying to myself about my addiction. My addiction was eating me up.

Hello. I am sondjata an I am an addict. I have been clean for 16 hours.