Swear you’re not just lonely

2:30 am. I sit on the black couch in the basement so my laughter won’t ring into sleeping ears. Your image vivid on my screen, and I’m curled up under an oatmeal colored blanket with a grin on the edge of my lips as you eloquently describe the flaws of human kind. We are selfish. We are thirsty for cash. Always. And we have an overwhelming fear of being alone.

Friday night turned into Saturday morning and it’s almost like you’re here on the couch. If your life was on an egg timer, you would be, you say.

We debate the meaning of the human experience. We debate whether it’s even real. We agree it probably isn’t.

You’re good at introspection and self-reflection. You say you’re impulsive. You say you’re torn between being overly human and being purely an intellectual being. You say some people think you’re an asshole because you’re too honest. I’m scared one day I’ll think that too. You’re a continuous loop wrapping back to the somber face when you say everyone, including you, does everything because they are ultimately distraught by the idea of being alone.

I ask you your take on the heavy stuff because you have a special way of making every question seem worthy of three solid minutes of deep sighing and pristine consideration. I once asked you how many holes a straw had and you lost yourself for several minutes before replying “0, 1, or infinite.”

So I know when I ask you the meaning of life you won’t shrug it off. And off we are down a rabbit hole until we tumble out and now we’re talking about the meaning of love. You say it’s addicting and you use a few other emotionally saturated words I can’t recall because I was too busy trying to picture what loving you would be like.

I’m lost in our rabbit hole. Its out of my comfort zone and anything but boring. You say you’re a bad influence on me. I say no of course not. In my head I agree. But I find you worth it.

Yet I can’t tell if our nocturnal debates are an impulsive product of your boredom and loneliness or intended clockwork. All I want you to do is take a three minute pause and sigh a lot and explain that even though you’re an asshole sometimes, you aren’t being one right now. And even though you’re impulsive, this isn’t just that. And even tho you’re afraid of being alone, this isn’t just because you’re lonely. I want you to swear you’re not just lonely.