My Friend Sam

I have a friend named Sam. He comes around usually in the evenings, after the sun has bled its last drops of light onto an arid cityscape, and he's not very polite. He knocks gently on my door, and sneaks quietly in. Sometimes he's so quiet I don't even notice he's come until he's right next to me. I wish he wouldn't sneak up on me like that, but he doesn't mean to, he's trying not to disturb me.

He curls up between me and the man on the couch. In the middle of our movie, and without knowing, he forces me to lean away, inching progressively closer to the distant arm of the love seat. He whispers in my ear during the movie about how the women are skinnier than me, about how the couples are more romantic than ours, about how the characters in the movie are achieving their dreams and I'm doing nothing resembling this at all. And I tell him to be quiet, but he doesn't listen. The man would tell him to be quiet, but he doesn't really notice Sam until he starts shouting.

Sam watches me while I cook sometimes, and I don't really like it. He finds me when I'm painting sometimes, and I suddenly don't really feel like painting anymore. He's just far too distracting, and keeps me from a lot of the things I love to do. But he's my friend, and I've known him for so long that it's hard to tell him "no." I don't have the strength to ask him to leave. The man sometimes does, but I just can't do it. I've tried.

He's around the most in the winter. He obviously has nowhere else to go, and knows I'll be home, because I don't have anywhere to go either. He sort of takes on a more dominant persona in winter, because he has so much more to talk about, and I can't really run. The summer is better, because I can go out and distract myself with the sun, and the grass, and the trees. I can go to the park, or just go for a walk. Sam usually can't find me when I'm going for a summer walk. I think the sun confuses him, he's not really an outdoor kind of guy.

He always comes along when we visit the man's mother. That woman and Sam get along better than anyone I know, so he always asks to come. He usually shows up at the most peculiar times, when I really don't expect him at all (he never calls first.) I'm usually having a spectacular time, and I fantastic day, finishing a successful work day, starting a beautiful painting. Times when I just don't think company's coming, those are the times he shows up. I always ask him why he needs to come, and he never really knows. He had nowhere else to be.

The time I see him most, however, is just before bed. The evening has just transformed into night, and it's quieter in the world than it has ever been. I'm just slipping into my night gown, listening to the nothingness around me, and the light from a nearby street lamp is beaming in through my window making a single illuminated square on my carpet. And in that moment, when my eyes begin to blur, and my mind begins to wander, I hear that small familiar knock at my door and I know who it is. It's Sam. And I don't know why, but like a robot I let him in. I even let him curl up in bed with me sometimes.

I don't like to have him around. He's cruel, and he steals from me. I find things missing all the time that I could have sworn were there yesterday. He has absolutely no regard for my plans or ideas, for my preferences or personal space. He comes between me and the man, and he comes between me and myself. I would never invite him, and I would never send him to your house either, because he's completely unpleasant and a bother on the life of anyone. Some days, I know, some of his other friends don't even want to get out of bed, for fear that he may show up. I know some nights I'm afraid to go to bed, for fear of that feeling in the morning.

Did I say his name was Sam?
Oh, how silly of me. Sorry, I meant "Sad."
Have you met him?