bonobo - wayward bob

"what's shakin' coo-coo pants?"
Josie wasn't really being sensitive to my emotional state lately. she had taken to coming up with a new euphamism for crazy when she saw me. i don't think she knew how to cope with me being out of sorts and I wound up being mocked instead of comforted. not that it's what i was looking for, just more wanting friends to at least feign that they gave a shit.
i was barely propped up by a tossed stack of pillows on the floor of the sunroom. it was chilly but I was secured under a thick wad of blankets. my goal for the day was to chain smoke and pound back a few cans of pop since i was off the booze. my hands were tired from curling back a worn copy of "Moab is my Washpot" by Stephen Fry. it smelled off and i vaguely recall spilling some wine on it when i tried to use it as a makeshift coaster.
josie had walked in like she was paying rent and proceeded to tidy up around me. i didn't bother to move and wondered how long I should wait before asking her to make me a cup of tea.
"Honestly... look at this shit."
"You don't have to clean it up. It's more that you feel guilty about your own piggish way and this is an easy transference onto me when i'm down... you know, on the floor... in a pile of blankets... alone."
"Not my choice to sit in here all alone, boy."
"I don't feel like going out, ok? Good enough?"
"You're being so LAME about this boy. He's so much younger than you..."
Lunge. Jab. Touche. En garde!
"Listen, I don't feel keen on taking shit from the woman who dated an 18 year old because she seemed like the mature side of 18."
"She was mature!"
"Yeah, ok, and that's why her parents wanted to get the police involved. Besides the point, why the fuck can't I have this moment of total clarity that I can't have the guy I'm hung up on? Why does every one feel the pressing urge to remind me i'm not allowed to be depressed?"
"You're not allowed to be depressed over something so STUPID, that's why."
I'm deflated under covers that're long over due for a tumble in the dryer. I receed into a fantasy about making lunch with Stephen Fry but immediately I hate the image of me trying not to be awestruck and timid...and not blurt out something assinine. Yeah, I know where it's going you fucking Freud genius, i don't need you to tell me what it all means. who am i yelling at inside my head?
"Coffee time boy is just a delusion... this is just a photocopy of yourself that you want to sit around and hump all afternoon. Don't you percieve it as unsettling to waste away over some flighty twit that you'd probably hate if you really got to know the deep down him? You want to consume this, let's face it, cooler version of yourself."
"Amazing."
"What?"
"You're fucking amazing. Coming in here with this, well, I'm going to lay it out, this STUNNING piece of advice and work so hard to try and put me on the path to recovery. ah! darling i love you."
She shook her head at me. "Snark all you want. The godawful truth is that you love him so much because he's every simpering complaint and open wound that you fancy as your own pain. he's what you want in a partner, and deep down it's not someone different to you know, complete your personality, it's just a fucking extension of yourself."
Silence. "SO THE FUCK WHAT? What the fuck is wrong with wanting to be with a man that I can actually relate to? Someone I don't have to feel embarassed around when I launch into a geeky tirade? Someone I feel warmth towards instead of barely-concealed distates? Someone who I just feel weak over."
"You've felt weak over other guys too and it went so well."
Suddenly Anthony came to from his spot on the couch that was more like a half-ass suicide watch program under quilted and knitted plate tectonics. He quickly flicked out his hand and spun a well-loved copy of "The Screw Tape Letters" at Josie.
"God fucking damn!"
"Josie, shut the hell up, seriously. Could you for once come over, make a cup of tea and just try to help? God, you're over here enough weeping your fool head off..."
Her face was flushed and she didn't have anything to say. She stood up and pushed the door open to the kitchen. I heard the sounds of the kettle going onto the stove and I had a funny feeling that she was just boiling water to scald Anthony instead of make some tea.
"I forgot you were sleeping."
"Not sleeping... I was just faking because I didn't want to talk to Josie and it was too late to go into the house when she showed up."
"I'd ask if you want some tea but I'm pretty sure she's going to spit in it."
"No it's fine. Just pass me back my book. I'm keen to hear what else she has to say."
"Don't throw it again. She'll try and beat your ass."
"She talks big game about kicking my ass but all she does is sucker punch me when I'm drunk."
"That's her fighting style, man. I hope she makes something fruity. I need the vitamin C."