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Eating a piece of mango from the Aldi's she had finally deigned to go to "it's so cheap!", she kind of realized she was losing the plot. Or had she lost it? The grass wasn't nearly up to her cutting standards, but she came back smelling of the kind of sweat that smells. It excited her of course - doing manual labor and sweating was exotic to her.
The flowerpots outside seemed to always need water.
Her expensive washrags never dried.
She didn't know what she was doing. None of this made sense to her. The most important thing to her in life had always been FIND THE FUCKING MATE. She had done that once then faltered the everything. It was so repetitive even she began to see the patterns only had her in common. Her mother read her a letter from her jailed drug dealer nephew about shame and hoping to be forgiven.
"oh mom. that breaks my heart. I certainly know of shame. Fuck, it's so sad to feel it from someone else. you just want to say something like Jesus forgives and it's so boring for everyone else when you hide your light in a shame cave."
"and this is so repetitive. It's not like the first time he's done this. Maybe this time he'll learn something."
"oh, I felt the same way when I failed my second marriage - oh my god how could I have been so stupid again?! this will be unacceptable. No one will ever love me again, and I will never get to hold my head up high and dance."
"You're so dramatic and sensitive."
"I guess I get that from my father."
"most definitely."
Yesterday, narcissi had finally freed the crystal from the pendant she had worn almost like a witch for over ten years. Her first words to it were "oh, today's the day. you're free."
She apologized the lawnmower a few times during the cutting today.
Most of this was all talking around the pondering that she might be rejected.... again. Deemed not quite right - not the correct chemistry.
Do we all just manufacture it anyway? What did it even feel like to fall in whatever love was. She only had two times that she felt she had been in love, and god if you don't know their names, you're a shit reader: mark and Kent.
Those were her only templates. Everyone else was delusion and madness. And were those templates even real. She remembered once crying long after they had broken up because Kent said to Sandy "Oh, I never loved her." To me, it meant all of it had been a fucking lie and a revised waste of time. To him, he seemed shocked. "well, I've never loved anyone, but maybe you're kind of the closest."
They had been the most awkward of couples anyway. She never liked the way she and Kent looked together - they were never a "good couple" - they were born of a secret. They were a psychological vortex mirror for each other. Now, she could almost say he was her best friend. He was many people's best friend.
But currently, she was interested in whether she had ever been "in love" or if she too had made something up to not feel so drift less and purposeless and alone. How can you tell you're in love? She used to tell people "bah! if you have to ask yourself if you're in love. If you have to make a list or whatever, you're not in love. It's hard to describe but when you're in it - it's undeniable. When you're not in it, you don't know what it is."
What a fucking bullshitter. She excelled at obfuscation.
She knew only - and she's told this story a billion and one times - but here's another - she only knew that when he cried in her arms about not feeling the love of his father - she broke her wall towards this haughty perfect ken doll and let him the fuck in all the way hard.
It makes sense now, but was it love? Who could tell? She fumbled. Perhaps she was just rescuing and felt like a mother kissing a scabbed aorta.
The other time, she was sitting with Kent and made a joke in General Longstreet's. She can remember it as clearly as typing to you now. It was dark. Mark was with his friends across the way. She and Kent were bored as always and trying to find other people to stimulate them. She looked across and said "I'm going to marry that man."
With Mark, she didn't know why. In fact, their first date, she thought maybe they'd be better friends. The only thing for certain she knew about him is that no one had ever felt so comfortable so quickly in all her life. She talked to him a mile a minute and he always got her jokes and quirky mind. She remembers looking in the mirror before their date practicing being married to him.
She had had a lot of alone time as a child and still wanted more, but she had said to him once and hadn't realized it was a cliche.
"I could read a phonebook with you. I could watch paint dry. I just love being with you and it feels so easy."
fuck.
that sucks to remember.
Now, it's so much harder for her - so many more layers and rings around that tree.
Yesterday, she asked new guy - the one that reading about "avoidant attachment" was the ONLY thing that kept her from spiraling into the abyss...
and by ask, you know she fucking texted come on.
"... so, if you still want to dally with me....?" and god that was a hard one to do - to ask something overtly. She hated the answer.
"Let's have a think on it."
But she certainly understood.
She was way way way too thinky though.
She would just continue her feeling.
Maybe it would be better this time out of jail....
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