Aloe & Moss

This afternoon, I saw a friend I’ve had for 20 years.  She lives in Germany, so I typically only see her one time, once a year.  We met up tonight for a quick dinner.  She brought her two peanuts with her.  They are so, so big… so perfect.

She knows I’ve lost Z.   She reads this blog.  But seeing her today – I was so morose (?).  I just didn’t know what to say.  I talked with her kids, and we chatted, but it’s hard for me to be part of a conversation that involves “catching up”.  My whole life right now is only one thing.  Or, rather, one missing thing.  And there really isn’t much to say.  We both know.  And that’s the sum of my life.  I have nothing else of note going on.

“My daughter is gone.  I struggle hard and constantly.  I’ve been making a lot of pies. I’m clearly eating my feelings.  I’m lost and hurt and broken.”  That is a shitty conversation that I don’t want to be a part of.  I don’t want to spend my 2 hours with my friend talking about this… situation (?).  But it hangs in the air. We’re both trying to ignore it, but I can’t think of anything else to say.

I don’t know how to have a conversation anymore.  I don’t know what to talk about.  I only have three non-tragic topics of conversation.  1) Pie  2) My bar trivia team  3) My dog.  After that, I’m utterly lost.  Conversation can’t revolve around my loss for the rest of my life.  It’s not healthy, it’s not comfortable, it’s not  what I want to be a part of. I don’t want to start crying every time I talk with someone.

The frustrating part is I’ve forgotten how to ask people about themselves.  I totally space out on the volley of question and answer that drives a conversation forward.  I forget what to do.

“How is your job?  What are you doing this weekend?  Do you have a vacation planned?  How is the meal you’re eating?  Did you see that video on Facebook?”  I can’t remember any of these questions.  I blank out when I’m with people.

Those couple of people that I’m seeing again know that I need to be carried through this.  They can make a conversation work.  But if I haven’t seen you in a while?  Useless.  It’s just one hand trying to clap.

I want so much to have the effortless, breezy conversations I had before.  I want to talk about the stupid mundane parts of life.  But I just don’t know how to break through this shroud of conversation that is so lost.

I’m terrible, thank you for asking.  But keep asking because I’ll come around.  I need to come around.  Eventually I’ll be able to talk about something other than trivia or pie or my dog.  Someday I’ll have a breezy conversation that doesn’t include crying.   It wasn’t tonight.  But I’ll see her again next October.  We’ll have a better conversation then.

Conversations with me is 0 stars.  Would not recommend.