Veteran

This was certainly a week full of drama.

Matt called me at work on Wednesday to see about returning my earrings. I was feeling fat and bloated and didn't want him to see me. And besides, subconsciously, i wanted to postpone the return. As long as he had the earrings, i'd still see him again. I figured, once the exchange was over (i still had his CD), it'd be, Buh-bye, Have a nice life.

"It has to be done," said Matt.

I felt dismayed. So i was just another errand on his list.

But he did then suggest cocktails. So i softened.

He couldn't decide where to meet up. "I can come by," i said. "We'll go from there."

He seemed pleased.

You know, it's weird. I've pictured in my head so many times making out with Matt/jumping his bones, you'd think i would've acted on my impulse by now. I guess there's great caution reining in my horny ass - greater caution than i've ever experienced.

As usual, he seemed genuinely happy to see me. And as usual, we had a great conversation. But this turned out to be a pivotal night. Somehow the subject of depression was brought up. As Freud would tell you, there is no such thing as a slip.

Matt admitted to having been on antidepressants before.

I had to ask, "Are you... just depressed? Or bipolar?"

"I have been diagnosed at one point," Matt replied uneasily, averting his eyes.

I KNEW IT!!!!!!!!! This explains SO much.

Matt confided a lot more. At one point i made a joke, because it's the only way i know how to cope with sad topics.

"Why are you making fun of me?" Matt whimpered, half-jokingly. I'd never seen this vulnerable, childlike side. It was very sweet.

"No, no, i'm joking..." I said, waving my hands in the air. "Because i totally understand! Because i'm bipolar."

He looked at me, his eyes lit up, as if seeing me for the first time. "Really!" Said Matt incredulously. Then he turned away for a second to contemplate.

"It's interesting that you're bipolar," Matt concluded.

I cracked up softly. "I'm glad my disorder is entertaining to you," i said. He laughed.

It's always special when you talk to someone for hours, and all of a sudden, you're like, Really? Me Too! No Way! Way!

Matt seemed relieved. And glad. Apparently he hides his troubles from even his friends.

"I consider you a friend," said Matt.

I knew how hard it was for him to open up. So that acknowledgment meant a lot.

"That's cool," i said.

He laughed. "That's it? 'That's cool'? No 'I consider you a friend, too'?"

I laughed too, "I thought that was understood!"

"It is," he said.

Like i've always said on this blog, it's always a good feeling to make a connection. However, after i've had some time since then to ponder, i can't help but realize this is the third bipolar i've become friends with since i myself was diagnosed two years ago. You have to wonder: Do i have some sort of scent that draws them in?

Or perhaps i'm drawn to them.

Perhaps bipolars find each other like blind ants feeling their way with antennae. And even though, at the moment of contact, there is a sense of relief, each remains blind just the same.