I don't want to go.

There's nothing forcing me there. I could just stay home tonight, the way I stayed home today despite all of my grandiose plans for a road trip to Cincinnati.

A long time ago, over two thousand miles away, I did stop going. Sure, it felt weird for a while, like I was just wasting my free time by just hanging around my home. But after a while, after a while I noticed that I didn't miss going at all. In fact, it got to where when I did go I felt like I was wasting my valuable home time by going out to be surrounded by idiots.

Back then, nobody even noticed that I wasn't going anymore. Back then I was able to quietly slip away and just not come back for a week. Or a month. Or six months.

These days, I don't have the ability to just quietly slip away. These days, people would notice. And people would think they knew why I was gone. They'd start assigning blame. They'd sit there with their knowing nods and their gossip and their "poor Dave" and they'd all feel glad that it wasn't them that was staying away. That was such a pussy.

If I didn't go tonight, people would think they knew why. They'd be wrong, but I wouldn't be there to tell them that. They'd all enjoy their gossip and maybe even get a good laugh out of everything.

I'm not going to try to bullshit myself or anyone else by saying that their opinions would be completely unfounded. It just that, to paraphrase something I read recently - They can't see the forest because they're in love with the trees. One certain tree, in fact.

So I don't want to go tonight, but I'm going anyway. I'm going to show them all that I have not been defeated.

Yet.