I feel as if I should post something tonight.
I'm working on some fiction, but it's not ready to be read.
I'd like to post part of my memoir, but...ditto.
I don't feel like being funny, or topical, or poetic.
So I'll just post this.
I had a strange, difficult lunch today.
At this lunch, I listened to my companion. I empathized. I tried my best to be supportive.
A few times, I attempted to add my own recent experience and perspective to the conversation. And was roundly ignored.
Eventually, I retreated into "nod and smile" mode, because I could tell I wasn't there to be a part of a dialogue, but merely an audience.
And I thought, OK, because God knows I've monopolized conversations before.
Still, in my imperfect memory I couldn't recall a time when I didn't at least say "Sorry, enough about me...how are you?"
I could be wrong.
And I probably owe my companion at least one lunch where I am solely a passive recipient of content.
Possibly my discomfort with being roundly ignored was because I've been indulged in the past as I unloaded my selfish concerns.
Which means I should remain silent and passive in the face of others' releases.
So I did.
Except it made me realize that perhaps I've been wrong to seize the narrative in prior conversations. Selfish. Needy.
So now I feel guilty, both that I've similarly hijacked conversations and that I feel resentful for having been hijacked.
And I don't know what to do now.
I have anger to be resolved, and loneliness to be dealt with.
Maybe I should abandon this companion as someone whose needs I can't fulfill at this or any other lunch?
Maybe I'm the one who should get over herself and be more empathetic to friends in need.
I don't know.