Sulkiness

sulky:

 

I am the sulkiest adult ever. Pretty much, anyway.

Admittedly, when I first heard that, the definition or impression in my mind was a bit different, so it came across as a little more hurtful and insulting. But I guess the above definition is something I can live with more easily, if need be.

That I am delicate and broken is more difficult to accept, but whatever. It is what it is, and fortunately or unfortunately, I am what I am.

Last night I dreamed that I’d convinced three friends to apply to some kind of secret society thing with me. I knew all about it and felt I could help them to settle into the whole thing if and when we were all accepted. I think the friends may have changed throughout, as I’m pretty sure one was a woman, at one point, but for the most part I think it was Ryan, Drew and Lindsay.

Anyway, I located the rather hidden spot where we had to go for the interview part of the application process, and as luck would have it, I even interviewed with someone I already knew. I was feeling pretty confident, because it seemed to go quite well.

Two of the four of us were accepted. I was not one of them. Still a little confused by it all even after I woke up. And guilty, because I was no longer sure how to help the two friends who’d made it in, especially when they’d only applied because I’d pressured them into it.

This morning, the older woman next to me on the subway lost her balance and would have fallen over had I not caught her.

Broken or not, sometimes I am still stronger than those around me, and can carry both of our weights for a while. So there’s that.

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