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He's a Good Guy Though

I tried to sing him a song I wrote but he didnít seem to like it. I showed him a few lines I wrote, just a passing thought, but he didnít really understand what I meant.
On my way home I was thinking about my relationship with him. About the way we interact. There is something unnatural about it. Something doesnít feel quite right. I canít really be myself with him.
It seems that in order to interact with him I have to resort to a lower common denominator. Pick subjects that I wouldnít normally talk about, use words and phrases that I would never use otherwise, and in general, not be myself. Act. Pretend. Lots of pretending involved. Pretend that I am interested, pretend that Iím impressed, and pretend that I Ďdigí him and what he says.
I had to repeat to myself again and again ďheís a good guy thought, heís a good guyĒ. He may be, but I think that both of us know that if it werenít for the particular circumstances we find ourselves in, we wouldnít be associating with each other.
A friend of mine (whom, unfortunately, I canít really associate with these days) once told me that heís longing for the time when heíll be surrounded only by people he chooses. Itís kind of a luxury.
Something to aspire to. In the meantime you may find yourself maintaining friendships and relationships that youíre not always happy to be in. Itís nice to be in a position where you donít give a damn. But to get there you have to give some serious damn. And maybe itís not that terrible that he didnít like my song. Heís a good guy after allÖ

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