Missing Sun

The sun's hiding today behind a thick blanket of clouds. The diffused light tampers with my emotions.
"Depressed," that's what I'll say if she asks, "Depressed because of the sun."
Over the phone her voice sounds deep, "How are you?"
"Alright," I skipped the depressed shit, even your best friend doesn't want to hear it.
"No you're not, what's wrong?"
She reads me like a book.
"Tired, just tired." Default excuse #221.
I sit on a wet bench. The water slowly seeps in through my jacket. "I don't care. I give up. I give up on everything today." I think to myself.
"Anyway, how are you?" I change the emphasis from me to her.
"I'm good, except my dog keeps eating all my underware" she states.
"Which dog?" I ask
"The one you like." she says.
"The cute one? It's alright then." As soon as I close my mouth I realize how fundamently fucked up I am.
"Well you can have him."
"I wish I could, no pets."
"Then he could eat your underware." She laughs and we pause,
"So, really what's wrong? You seemed so good lately. Did something happen? What did he do? Did he say something?"
Back to me. She just couldn't leave this one alone.
"Nah, I just give up." I say half heartedly.
"Why?"
"Because I'm just not his type."
"I don't get it."
"You know, I'm just, not, I'm just not up to standards."
"You're not fat. You're not ugly." She says.
"But I'm not skinny and I'm not beautiful."
"Yes you are. You're beautiful," The people who love you always think your beautiful.
"Well I give up anyway. I don't need any of this."
I say, twenty times a day, "I'm too busy for this shit anyway."
"Have you even told him you like him?"
"Well, no... but it doesn't matter. I give up anyway." I always give up too easily.
"Oh, Elizabeth, how about I be your girlfriend? We can date."
"Okay. It sounds like a deal. We could have hot sex." I giggle, my best friend always has a way to cheer me up.
"Hell ya, it'll be awesome," she laughs, "back to work?"
"Back to work. I love you, call you later."
"Love you too."
My cigaretteless cigarette break ends with my ass soaking wet but Bryanna did improve my mood a little. The sun's still behind the clouds, but it doesn't seem as depressing.
"The cute one? It's alright then." I think to myself, "If only I could be a little less
superficial maybe I'd have a chance to redeemmyself. There's nothing wrong with being average, right? There's nothing right with being average either. Oh, God, not the contridictions."
I turn my mind off at this point. I'm not thinking anymore until the sun comes out again.

Written in Denver, Colorado Sept. 2006