Teardrop Epiphanies: Honest Answers To Question You Never Asked

You...you were afraid of me. I'm sorry about that. I hope you know you never had any reason to be.

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I don't understand why you think you have to lie to me. Why you need to be like that. It doesn't hurt me that you are, if anything it hurts me that I've made you feel like you have to be like that. I must have done something very, very wrong, but for the life of me I can't think of what that would be.

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There are very few things in life as bewildering as experiencing several new things at once. I've been there. I began to feel a different way about people, a way I'd never felt before. That frightened me, and I'd never really been frightened before. I was beginning to say the way I felt about things, but I really didn't know how and even when I did I couldn't say it very well. I was having fun, and it was all so new to me.

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I never thought we would be friends. It didn't seem possible. I just wanted you to not hate me. I just wanted you to understand that I wasn't what everyone else thought I was. I couldn't have asked you to understand me, that wouldn't have been fair...but I can't stand the fact that we parted ways with you feeling the way you did.

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I have no idea who these people I'm talking about are.

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Sometimes I say things that I think sound straight, just because I don't want people to think I'm gay. Which I'm not...

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The types of magicians we now call illusionists used to train to perform their simpler coin tricks with one hand so that they could pick the pockets of their spectators with the other. As these tricks became more for entertainment the ability to perform a trick with a single hand allowed them to use their empty hand as a distraction, thus allowing the second hand to perform a more complex coin trick without fear of detection. Magicians have lost this talent, forgoing the simple slight of hand for more flashy and less genuine illusions. But those who still understand the old trade now encounter a complex problem. Which hand is performing the trick? The empty hand or the hand with the coin?

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I create a silly little world here. Create one dimensional characters with no features or history. Think about it. Rigby, King, and Kong all sort of seem like me. We never really let on what Hob is like, and though I can't explain why for the life of me Lazarus Jones has always reminded me of the cop from Police Academy who makes all the funny noises.

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I was drunk once. Really drunk, on a night I probably should have stayed really sober. I acted pretty retarded that night, but I always thought I remembered all the things I said. Until the other night. I woke up about four in the morning with the phrase "let him get it out" ringing in my ears. I remember my grandfather used to say that when I took sick, and I always figured that someone said that when I was getting sick that night. But when it was repeating in my head the other day I realized that it couldn't have been said then. There was only one guy with me, he had no one to say it to. And suddenly a bit of black lifted, and I knew exactly when it was said. I just can't remember what of a million things I was trying to get out at that exact second. I hope it wasn't anything too horrible. Truth is it sort of changes everything, I always assumed I remembered everything, but now how do I know that there aren't a dozen wicked things I'd forgotten?
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There's this woman at work. It just so happens that every morning when she comes into the office to drop her keys I'm standing in the doorway, and every afternoon when she comes in to drop her keys I'm standing in that same doorway. I've never seen her otherwise, which probably means she's never seen me otherwise either. I wonder if she thinks I spend all day standing in that doorway...although I reckon she's never given it much thought at all.
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Everytime I walk into a crowded room the first think I think is, "all these people hate me." The second thing I think is, "don't be a jackass, you jackass. Of course they don't all hate you." It wears on you thinking like that. But I can't help it.

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Just because you shit in a pot and call it dinner don't make it so.

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There was a whole lot more story to tell on a night like this, but I'm tired now and completely unsure whether I have it in me.