Boys Suck

So I was sitting around listening to country music (shut it, I don't want to hear it) and decided to call The Boy. The Boy is a long complicated story that I really don't understand myself so there's no point in explaining him. But, he is. The Boy. He's been around for a million years. And we fight like crazy and make each other insane, but at my darkest moments, I sometimes call him. And vice versa. And we can't see each other in person for more than an hour without fighting. But at times I don't think anyone knows me better. Maybe my parents. Maybe not. But he's always been around and he's complicated and I love him beyond reason and hate him a ton and wish I could be with him always but am also really happy that he lives far away and I only see him once every 3 or 4 years. See? Complicated.

Anyway, country music always reminds me of him and so I was listening to it and feeling melancholy and thought I'd give him a call. It's been almost a year since our last big ugly blow out and I was looking for some of my standard The Boy talk. And didn't get it. It was kind of awkward and mostly boring and bland. And The Boy and I are never boring and bland. It was just so ordinary. There were a couple of moments that seemed like the old us. But they went quickly. And then it went back to being ordinary. I don't know if it was just him or if it was me too. I don't know if we were just trying too hard to make this a non fighting conversation or if we were both still mad about the last fight or if we're both just annoyed at turning 30 or what. But it made me feel more bummed than I did before. Well, not more bummed. I don't really feel bummed. Melancholy? A little lonely? A little tired. A little nostalgic. A little too 29. A little too unsettled but a little too much in a rut? I don't know.

So, if someone could come and remove all the country from my music playing machines, that would be awesome.

I'm gonna have a beer and do the two-step. Y'all have a nice night.