Two-Seven-Four

Yea, it was only 4 days. But 4 days is all I need for now. Maybe after this post, I'll have another 4.

I read over this entire blog and the one I wrote before I started this one (which I have conveniently made private...somewhat). There were some really good days. There were some days that frustrated me. But it all averages out to being decent year and a half.

This is what I've learned over my small getaway...

There's a reason why so few people actually listen today. It has to do with the 'surivival of the fittest' thing. People who do nothing but listen usually don't talk, which means they don't talk about their problems. Those who keep their problems to themselves are more likely to have heart attacks, illnesses, and such.

I am a true listener. I don't talk. And because of that, I sometimes collapse under the weight of my problems. Not to say that my problems are any more significant than your's. And I don't mean to imply that I have no one to talk to, because the truth is that I do have a few people I could discuss these things with. But because I hate depending on people, I try not to let myself become dependent on any one person. I can't assume that if I call my friend 'John Doe' that they will be free to listen to me.

Imagine that you're on the phone with some friend. They talk, talk, and talk. You sit there and listen. Then, when you want to do the talking, they have to go. Sometimes I feel that way. And I shouldn't. But that is the reason I have this blog. I can write everything I want to and just assume it's being read.

It's 4:43 AM. I want to call someone and just...I don't know. Deep down, I know I would love to talk. But the feeling I get from listening is great too. If someone called me, I would listen and love every moment of it. I wouldn't feel the need to say a word. And that means I wouldn't talk.

Everyone is asleep. Except for me. And really what I feel like doing is going for a walk. It's about 40-something degrees outside, but I'd manage. I'd walk along the streets and count the cars as they go by. I'd guess where they were headed. I'd wonder if they had a warm home to go to.


4 years ago, we talked on the phone. She noticed I was talking more than usual, and figured out that it was due to the drink in my hand. She made me promise I wouldn't drink again. That promise lasted a few months. So, if you want me to talk, get a drink in my hand.

I haven't had a drink in...16 months and about 8 days. I intend on seeing how long I can keep this up. So I guess I'm not talking anytime soon.

{Note: 4 seems to be the magic number...}