They talk, I listen...
Things have been pretty normal for a while... do I need to tell you that stopped this weekend?
Friday night, when I got home, the voices started again. After my nervous breakdown, a couple years ago, I started hearing them and only recently (within the last six months) have I been able to start making out what they're saying. I hadn't heard them in about a month.
Friday, they were louder than ever. And they wanted me to go to Rosa's.
Trust me, you don't argue.
I got in my car and left. I stopped off for a pack of smokes and found myself at Rosa's. (Honestly, sometimes it's like there's a whole other Ken running the show.)
I parked across the street from her house, sat on the curb, looked over at her windows, and wondered what the hell I was doing. Still, after about an hour, the voices started fading away. Seeing Rosa's house had a certain calming affect. I suppose it may be because that was the last place where I was happy, all those years ago. I've forgotten, over the years, what happiness is like but I remember I had it once back when Rosa loved me.
Eventually, it became too cold out there and I left.
I ended up sleeping my Saturday away. After a long rehearsal week (going from 8am - 11pm each day) and looking down the barrel of two weeks straight of the same, I needed my rest. Of course, this meant I didn't sleep so well Saturday night. In fact, Saturday, I ended up sleep walking... again! But my mind never runs out of new spins it can put on my paranoia and here was the new one: While I was sleepwalking, I remember saying, "It's gone! I must have hid it while I was sleepwalking!" Now, I woke up from that and realized that I was sleepwalking while I was talking about sleepwalking and I had no idea what the "it" is. After looking around, I decided to let it go. I'll find out sooner or later.
Sunday morning, Sean and I went for breakfast. I think it's funny how he and I have turned into brothers of sorts. He and his wife, Megan, are getting ready for their trip to New Orleans. Rosa and I always wanted to go to New Orleans so seeing them do this does drive shards of regret into my chest. But I try and act supportive and happy for them while a little voice in my head says, "This is your life from now on, watching other people's happiness while you have none of your own."
Basically, the weekend sucked.