I kinda want to write something today. I know what I want to write about, but I'm unsure as to how I should approach the subject. Misinterpretation is, after all, rampant.
I try to be nice about this. Even though I know it's probably pointless. Even though I know that niceness has been and will continue to be twisted into something bad more often than not. Something has poisoned her opinion of me. Every word is a lie. Every action is sinister. Every motive is evil. But being nice still seems like the right thing to do. So, aside from a few moments of anger and a few more moments of despair, I do try to be nice.
Plus, there are things that still happen, every now and then. I don't know why these things happen. I have to guess. And, what I usually guess is that I haven't been forgotten. I try to be nice, to honor those lingering memories.
I tried to be nice the other day. It got twisted into something mean, as I should have known or at least suspected it would. But sometimes I still lose sight of the truth. Sometimes I still do stupid things. Trying to be nice the other day was stupid, as it turned out. But I never have any way of knowing ahead of time how my overtures will be received, if they're received at all. It sucks, but I do what I can when I can. I do miss her, and the kid. Things would be a lot easier, for everyone, if I'd stop missing them.
It would also help if I knew what I wanted to happen. I have no clue anymore. I only have a vague fuzzy sense that I want things to be okay between us. I can't define what that word means. It's a ghost haunting my head, glimpsed only rarely and only for an instant.
I kinda wish that I knew what I wished.