Soundtrack To My Night

I got home after a day of clock-watching and great difficulty being at work. Big Sis had gone out for dinner with some old friends, so I chatted with Bro-in-Law in the kitchen, while he waited for the oven to heat up and I put the dishes away. I was feeling shattered. I got myself some food and retreated upstairs to eat and watch some TV. I had promised The Mrs I would give her a call, so we had a quick chat about a difficult situation she has to deal with tomorrow. I wanted to have a nice hot bath, so I put the heating on and waited for the water to get extra hot, surfing the net with the TV on in the background. CSI had just finished and an episode of Numb3rs was just starting. I have never watched it, but left it on while I checked my emails.

Gradually, I paid less attention to the laptop and more attention to the TV, as I recognised the song playing in the background of the episode. It was a song called 'I Don't Know,' by a band called Dead Rabbit - the brainchild of a friend I have known since I was about six. I was so excited! I know he has a lot of contacts in the music business and has been doing fairly well for himself, but I don't think an album under this alias has been commercially released. Hearing it being played, for a good few minutes, on a well-known US television show is pretty big!

I grabbed my phone to send him a congratulatory text, but realised I hadn't yet transferred his number to my new phone. After scrolling through my contacts on my old phone, I saw three numbers saved under his name, but couldn't remember which one was the right one. He'd sent me a text a few months back, so I went back into my text messages to find it, so I could use the right number. As I scrolled back through the many undeleted messages I had, the past six months went flashing before my eyes and I suddenly felt overwhelmingly sad. I read through some of the old texts, some of them too painful to read all the way through, some painful because I read them all the way through and some painful because of hindsight and the way things have panned out since. Before I knew it, I was almost sobbing, tears streaming down my face, and I realised that I hadn't really cried for ages. I have been on the verge of crying several times lately, but I just feel choked and can't seem to get rid of the emotion. I often just feel numb and blank. It was weird feeling sad for a specific reason, rather than the general malaise I feel most of the time.

Eventually, I found the number I needed and made a note of it, before turning off the old phone and trying to shut off the memories with it. I sent him a text and then ran the bath, before sinking down into the bubbles and then slathering my hair in a hot oil treatment before washing it. Lots of lathering, conditioner and exfoliation later, I was squeaky clean and ready to get into my pyjamas for bed. My friend had messaged me back and we had a conversation by text back and forth, while he got me up to speed on the latest developments. He asked about me more than once and each time I tried to fob him off with "nothing new happening with me" or "just working, same old," rather than go into any detail about the fact that I am not going through the most enjoyable period of my life at the moment and that I honestly have nothing of any interest that I could update him on. He sounded loads happier than he did when I last spoke to him, when he was experiencing some rough relationship issues. The things he is doing seem to be keeping him occupied, satisfied and mentally and creatively stimulated and it was obvious from the tone of his messages that he was in a much better place. I was pleased for him and told him so. It's great seeing people's successes when you have seen them from almost the beginning of their journey and all the work, effort and perseverance they have put in to get where they are. I really admire his determination and focus, especially in an industry that can be as fickle and impenetrable as the music business can be. His good news was a welcome distraction from my own feelings of loneliness.

We chatted by text for a while, me reluctant to go to sleep even though I really needed to. He sent me some links to his latest stuff online and some videos that have been produced for a few of the tracks. He asked if I’d seen his sleeve – the tattoo(s) covering his entire left arm – and I told him I had (courtesy of Big Sis, via Facebook). We discussed the cost, both monetary and physical (i.e. pain) and how long it had taken to do. Since we grew up together in church, he asked if I was still going. I told him that I was and that I really like the church I am attending right now, and he seemed pleased that I was still ‘keeping the faith.’ I knew his own beliefs had moved away in recent years from what we had been brought up believing and that he had told me a while back that he didn’t think he believed in God. However, he said that he had been debating whether to go back to church sometime, but was wrestling with the idea. I mentioned that the church I go to streams its services live online, so he could always watch on the website if he felt the desire for a spiritual connection without feeling ready to actually physically go to the church building. He appreciated the suggestion and I felt intrigued that his opinion had changed from the strong opposing feelings he had seemed to hold a year or so ago.

Eventually I decided I should get some sleep, sometime near 2am, and we agreed that we would catch up sometime soon. He lives relatively near me and we haven’t seen each other in years. I think I bumped into him one time about three years ago, but since then we have just exchanged the odd email or text intermittently. It is weird how quickly years pass and where life can take you. People’s paths may take them in completely different directions, but the paths can still intersect again, sometimes just the once, or maybe at regular intervals. At times, I have needed to remove certain relationships from my life, but I’ve decided that in general, I’m not one to completely burn bridges. It may not always be possible, right or wise, but when it is, I’ve realised that I like to keep the door of reconciliation open, as much as possible.