Need to Know

Inspirational song: In the Dark (Billy Squier)

I only remember making one attempt to have an imaginary friend in my childhood. I was five, and I tried to tell a story at the dinner table using a made-up companion to whatever it was I claimed to have done. I hadn't thought it through very well, and when I had to supply a name for this fake little girl, I used the first name that came to mind. We had recently gone to Myrtle Beach for a vacation, and I suggested that my friend was named Myrtle. Big mistake. My whole family laughed, and my brother and father teased me mercilessly. "Myrtle? What, is she a turtle? [Hahahaha] Myrtle the Turtle..." That was the last time I ever tried that tactic. I still retained a need to have an imaginary ear to bounce ideas off of, just like anyone who has ever practiced a speech to a steering wheel or had a pre-argument with a showerhead. I just never gave myself license for a pretend best friend after that spectacular failure when I was five. Or at least I did until I started this 638-day conversation with my computer.

Two years ago, when I was the president of that ladies club that I still belong to, we were in full swing planning a big charity auction when I ended up in the hospital. I missed an important meeting with the auction crew the day before I was admitted, and from that moment on, they made it clear that they wanted to keep going without me. Granted, the antibiotics I was on messed with my head, making me more paranoid than I've ever been in my life, but it really felt like a mean-spirited mutiny. Unfair assertions were made that hurt me. I was accused of trying to deny funding for the party that housed the auction, when in fact the opposite was true. I wanted the auction chair to tell me how big a budget she needed, so I could appropriate it from the proper pot of money. But the worst part was all the meetings that went on without me, as I was actively un-invited to them. I don't think any of those women had any idea that they had found my biggest weakness, the fear of not knowing. I can't stand being in the dark. It drives me crazy when people brush me off, especially when I ask specific questions, or when the knowledge I seek affects my own job performance. That whole experience left me bitter and burned out, and when I was able to walk away from the sausage-making side of the club, I did so without a second thought. I haven't looked back once. I don't miss it. I was just thrilled when I healed enough emotionally to appreciate having them all around as friends again.

I got very stressed out this evening, trying to understand the half a story the man was giving me. He had sent an image to me earlier, a design he was working on. I had no idea what it was, but my response apparently wasn't a forceful enough question to warrant a coherent explanation. Drawing detailed answers from the man is far more difficult than pulling teeth. I tried asking again tonight, once he was home, and I still had to pry and demand and guess at the right answers. I was on my way out the door when I finally guessed the right answer, and I spent the next two hours (while I was supposed to be relaxing in a massage) tense and angry, when it turned out to be something that could be a major undertaking, or it could be nothing at all if he decides against it. When I ask questions, it's because I really do want to know. I don't want to be brushed off or told it's not important. That just makes me need to know all the more. I hate being in the dark.