I have two voice mails on my phone that I cannot bring myself to listen to.
One is from a very nice Jimmy John's manager back in Morgantown. I had complained on their website about an extremely shitty meal that had been delivered to my hotel room a few days earlier. I had just gotten off the plane back in New York when my phone simultaneously beeped with a voice mail and another call coming in. Same manager, calling again. While he was extremely nice and apologetic, I just couldn't bring myself to care at that moment. Before the plane had taken off, I got the news that my friend would more than likely be dead by the next morning. I thanked him profusely for calling and trying to set things straight, explaining that I couldn't come back since I had just landed at JFK. A few weeks later, I received a Jimmy John's gift card in the mail. So I know what the voice mail says. I'm so sorry. Can you please come back? We'll make things right.
The second unheard message is from a friend. She had called late at night, as I was crossing the middle of a busy intersection in the Lower East Side, right after a night of music at Rockwood Music Hall, one of the few places in NY where I am completely stress-free and relaxed. I quickly pushed the voice mail button with every intention to listen to it the next day. It's now been ten days. I still haven't listened. It is not that I don't care. I do. I want all my friends to feel supported and happy. But I'm at a point in my life where I have to take care of myself before I can take care of anyone else right now. And she is a person who needs tending. Her Facebook wall that night held proof.
This is not something I'm proud of, not being able to be there for my friends. and not being able to reach out and simply tell people that I'm still not able to fully deal with them yet. But I've told this friend more than a few times that when I'm ready to be sociable again, I will reach out. She has ignored every instance, which makes me want to listen to that voice mail even less. I know she means well, but I also just can't. She's not the only one that I've had to put off however.
My patience is at an all-time low. I've stopped replying to people: on the phone, on social media, on email. I didn't even make it a week before I disabled my OkCupid account. One man had messaged me saying he'd like to get to know me. I looked at his profile and how he answered a few questions. I wasn't sure whether I wanted to reply to him or not. I needed some time to think it over. (He was open about owning guns. Plural.) Within two minutes, he emailed again with just a question mark. It was infuriating. I responded saying, I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude, but you have no patience. I hadn't decided whether I was interested. Now, I definitely am NOT. Then I clicked the block button before he even had the chance to reply.
I miss the days of rotary phones and no voice mail. When someone would call, you'd have to speak to a person to leave a message. If you weren't home, then you weren't home. Plain and simple. I remember when my best friend Misti would call trying to find me. My grandmother had learned a few sentence in English for her. Yvonne no home. Yvonne go Publix (pronounced pooblix) or Yvonne go school. It always made us giggle. When I had returned from wherever I had been, my grandmother would tell me in Polish that Misti had called. There wasn't this immediate need for response. People had to be patient. There was no choice.
I've stopped carrying my cellphone with me everywhere I go. I leave it in my bedroom if I'm in the kitchen cooking. Sometimes, I turn it off completely at night. There are only three people that I will (almost always) immediately respond to: my mother, and my best friends Erich and Hillary. But even with them, there are times when I simply can't. The constant rejection of being a singer, writer and trying to find a job have taken their toll. Even Chipotle won't hire me to serve rice and beans.
So it's hard to admit that I'm feeling like a failure, and not capable of human interaction sometimes; Me, the outgoing, friendly, will-do-anything-for-anyone girl who only wants the best for people. But that's where I am in my life right now. Part of me wants to apologize to every human being on the planet for being unavailable; part of me wants to scream just to be left alone. Instead, I take time and pray that people will have the same patience for me that I'm not capable of giving.
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