"Sometimes, y'know", he said, "I think I deal with some things better than you do - sorry, that sounds lame - but, work and shit like that-"
"No, 's fine", I said, because this is my friend, and we know each other well enough that insult is difficult even if we try. "I know what you mean."
"And then, I find that I can't deal with loneliness the way you can. I can't... I don't know how to do what you do, with people."
And I think about how much our vocabularies, our choice of words, defines our world view. Only recently have we allowed loneliness to enter into our dictionary. We are not lonely; just as we are never depressed, never angsty, never defining ourselves with these words, because those words belong to people we see ourselves as different than. We are different; we are split and compartmentalized, and while we are as full of crap as anyone else, we contain it, the question is whether the act of containing - restricting, rationalizing, turning into a joke - is hurting us as much as the alternative.
"I have become more aware of the loneliness", I say. "But I don't even try. I don't blame people for giving up. This girl has invited me out for dinner and drinks quite a lot since I moved here, but I never contact her. I like her, just not enough to try. She's given up on me, now."
"I just can't fucking sleep", he said.
"I want you to hit me as hard as you can", I said.