After services I headed for the door to go home. When I turned around there was a young man less than half my age standing there looking around the Hall.
I introduced myself and we began chatting. Out of the blue,… totally random, not pertaining to anything we discussed… he said, “I have depression.” With that I explained, it’s difficult to avoid feelings of depression in this world. With so many shootings and hatred it’s hard not to feel depressed. When we add in our personal difficulties depression can really take a hold.
I realized I gave him too much information at one time because he looked back at me with empty eyes, the kind of look only heavy psychiatric pharmaceuticals can produce.
It turns out he’s friends with the newest bride and groom. The groom is in his 70’s, and first time bride is in her mid 60’s. I live in the apartment that once belonged to the middle son of the groom.
That’s where I enter the picture. I took over the middle son’s lease who jumped up and become a truck driver. In the 4 years I’ve been here, I’ve developed a deep loathing for the manager.
When someone uses others for their personal gain, I have a problem with it. When they behave like “Fatal Attraction” and want to tell me about it as if it’s nothing, I have an issue. Despite repeatedly denying her requests to talk on the phone after hours and to become friends, she still hasn’t accepted the answer. No.
Perfection is not expected. Just a few morals will do.
I adore the new married couple. I gladly welcome the super medicated guy I met Wednesday. I’m happy to have been able to take over this lease at the time the groom’s son needed it. However, I avoid the company of all “Single White Female” and “boil the bunny” types.