Everything feels really quiet and almost painfully autumn today. I'm sitting here in my bathrobe and wrapped in a quilt, listening to Grouper's Dragging a Dead Deer Up a Hill on repeat, feeling pretty content but also nostalgic. I really need to kick the nostalgia. It's a bad habit.
Michael and I got into an argument last night because I told him he wasn't as empathetic as he thinks he is, and then he called me a sociopath and said that my friends wouldn't like me if they "knew the real me." We've both apologized since then but his words keep lingering with me. I can't seem to shake them. Maybe he's right. I don't know.
I'm going to the birthday party of a friend of a friend tonight. Let's hope that's a good time and lifts my spirits a little.