I’m burning, I think. For a split second I would have done anything for you. Or I’m an idiot. I mean, you’re fabulous, and I don’t hold it against myself for being drawn unnecessarily into a series of small, but impressively chaotic voids. I think you’d make a near perfect adventure partner. Sorry, I misspoke. I meant to say I am an insane person and I am going to stay the fuck out of your life because I am 87 percent sure that’s the best thing I could do for you. That’s a conservative estimate, but only because the possibility that it is not the right thing to do is so desirable it’s worth a higher margin of likelihood.
The thing is, I accompanied two friends through existential mini-crises that day, and I feel AWFUL about doing that because I am the least qualified person possible for that sort of thing and am in the middle of my own most annoyingly pathetic existential crisis so far. And I asked this one dude if I was unbearable to be around, and he said he wasn’t going to say anything until it got a little worse, but that I radiate stress. What the fuck am I doing, anyway? I keep saying I care about all these things, but obviously that’s not the case. I’ve created this nice peaceful life, but I’m giving nothing to the world, and gaining nothing as a person.
There is also a possibility that we could go check out that thing Jake was telling me about, in which case you would understand exactly what I’m talking about and so would I and that would make everything so amazingly good that, something. So now I’m considering the rather disappointing fact that I am not just waiting until I have sobered up and am sufficiently caught up on current events and also sufficiently informed on every other possible area of possible relevant knowledge, and am fit, and also have gotten good at rock climbing and have learned to play either the harmonica or the ukulele and have achieved mental stability and have learned basic measurement and temperature conversions, and can count things a little faster by looking at them, and maybe a tan too because hell, this is going to be ready no sooner than August, at the very earliest. And no, that was not a hyperbolic list of random attributes and minor achievements to make some vaguely annoying and trite point. Those are all things I told myself, mostly on separate occasions, but all with complete sincerity, that I would achieve before going anywhere near you. And I realize that’s bullshit, but I’m toxic and also terrified of people, and you’re the last person I want to take that out on. If I was a real human, though, I would marry you.