REFLECTIONS FROM THE DEPRESSED HOUR

No one at The Garage-- they're all in Glamis, past The Salton Sea and bordering on Mexico, in the desert.

Eve had a therapy session, and would most likely be too emotionally drained to hang out.

I got off of work and took care of some business: paid my insurance, grabbed some groceries... I got home around 3pm and I went to sleep.

I got seven hours, the most I've had in some time. I will be going back to a regular schedule probably by the end of this year. I can hack it until then. Besides, this is a short week.

I woke up around 10pm. Eve had called around 9pm and left a message, wondering what I was up to. As much as I wanted to see her, it was best that we both got some sleep. She was late to work a few times on account of me, and I don't want her to get fired. I will see her tomorrow, when we both have the time.

I also received a call from Flora, my dear old friend from high school-- then again, they're all good friends from high school, aren't they?

I've been mad at Flora, because she got married right after graduation and it meant that the teen years were over and we were all adults now, and I have this thing against marriage, and I just thought she was compromising herself... but I got over that. No, what I was recently mad about was how she got a divorce eight years later, around the time of 9/11, and I thought she was giving up on something good.

I also felt like she was forcing me to support the exact opposite of what I had been previously supporting. I wanted to be able to say "I told you so."

I realize, now, that she didn't want to stay in an unhappy marriage. Far be it from me to cast judgement. But I did, and it was due to my lack of understanding. Flora never told me how bad things got with Fred. He was very self-destructive, and she felt herself loving him less and less.

If she had adhered to my view of things, right now she'd be so gutted of life, thanks to being tied down to a man she no longer loved. She did what she had to do, and I miss her terribly but my stupid pride has been in the way.

All this business with Eve has made me see how pigheaded I can be. So I called Flora when I got home, then I slept, and when I woke up she had left a message for me. I called her up, and we talked until I had to go to work.

Flora was surprised to hear me tell her that I had been upset. She really had no clue, I'd hidden it very well. I'm a master at that sort of thing. Don't bother trying to read me, you won't figure anything out that I don't want you to know.

I apologized for it, and she said it was okay. Then, I confided to her about Eve. Flora knows all about Eve and me; in fact, she kind of introduced me to Eve during the high school production of Big River that our Theater Arts class put on in my Senior year.

Flora was an incredible artist, who designed the lovingly-detailed river mural that was part of the set of the Tom Sawyer adaptation. I helped her paint here and there, and that's when I first laid eyes on Eve, who made it a point to walk up to me and shake my hand.

Flora was also the first person to ever get me high. I wonder if she regrets it. She shouldn't-- it set my soul free in many ways, even as it enslaved it in others.

Flora, who is a Pisces, told me to not be afraid to show my feelings. I told her that my feelings show through in my actions: just being there for Eve, giving her my time, my attention, trying to help her think about other things, not trying to save her but rather trying to create a diversion that she can escape into momentarily, a place where she can feel safe... that's how I tell a girl that I love her.

But, Flora added, it wouldn't hurt if I showed a little more. At least I would know where I stood with her. I told Flora about my sloppy drunk kiss, and how I didn't feel as bad for doing that because I was buzzing, and of course Flora laughed and told me I was being silly.

We talked for a spell about our particular friendship, how I always want to tell Flora how to live her life, how it infuriates me that she doesn't listen to me... and how, deep down inside, I find that to be the center of her appeal. I confessed that I kind of like complaining about her, because it makes me feel like I am a solid, steady force in Flora's life. But really, it's just me trying to front like I am that way, when really the things she says and does affect me much more than I let on.

I have a lot of walls set up, to keep out the hurt, to block the pain, to deflect the anguish. I am trying to avoid certain aspects of my life, and it's not healthy. For example, I already admit that, during a specific time of day (anywhere from an hour before noon to a quarter after) I get very depressed and reflective. I am trying to deal with that effectively.

It was wonderful to talk to Flora again. But I also felt a bit sad, when she told me about Fred and how much of a downhill spiral he is in. There's been a theme as of late-- female friends escaping bad relationships, only to be harassed and stalked. Flora and Eve are two good examples, but a third example ran into me yesterday morning, during the Depressed Hour, when I was getting off of work, ready to run some errands.

I saw a girl named Alison (is it coincidence that I quoted from the Elvis Costello song of the same name not too long ago?) walking down Ventura Boulevard. Alison used to be my next-door neighbor, and she was the boyfriend of a guy we all knew as "Son". They were both from Queens, New York, and had known each other for years-- they grew up together, really.

Alison was apprehensive to see me, and wasn't sure whose side I was on. She was much closer to my friend Down low, who was very tight with Son and also harbored a secret crush on Alison. When the couple broke up, Low was torn between loyalty to his friend and attraction to Alison. He never made a move, but Alison had called Low not long ago, asking for a favor that she never got back to him regarding.

So it was kismet that I saw Alison on the street. I told her to call Low, and she said it was hard for her because Son was making her life miserable, even though he was back in New York. She didn't know if we could understand her situation.

"Alison," I said, "I do know. Right now, my ex is dealing with her last boyfriend, who is doing the same thing if not worse. Believe me, Low and I both understand. Call him up, he wants to see you."

Alison smiled. "Thanks, James. It was good to see you."

"I'll see you around, I'm sure."

Alison and Son had been together for twelve years. You'd think that, after all that time, she would've just stayed with him. But no, Son didn't do enough to warrant her staying with him, especially since he had a double standard concerning fidelity. And when he lost her, he did what most men seem to be doing nowadays: he went crazy with rage, and started acting like a dickhead.

I'm glad I've never acted like a dickhead with an ex. The closest I got was back in high school, with the infamous Amy Coates. I kicked that habit real quick.

I was beginning to lose hope, my faith in women was starting to wane. It seemed like they were all ready to just take up with the next available guy, instead of pursuing their own dreams. Maybe I ruled them out too quickly, maybe I didn't give them enough credit... now it seems like they're all breaking the shackles that bound them, and moving on to truer happiness, the kind that they deserve, the kind that is avaliable to them if only they are brave enough to leave the men who hold them back.

That's all I ever wanted my female friends to do: live up to their potential. They are all beautiful and talented and intelligent, and they shouldn't have to settle for less.