Life gets better and better. Over the long haul. I mean the looooooooong haul. But in between it sucks. It sucks between the neurons. It sucks like gunk between your toes. It's uphill. You're blind AND deaf. At best you see those 3 feet in front of you like you are walking through life with a flashlight.
Hey it's better than total darkness, right? But it's still just a flashlight. You will not be able to fight off a jaguar in the rainforest with a flashlight.
Not that you have the first idea of how to fight off a jaguar.
Not like you're even in the rainforest. But it sure as hell feels like it.
How do you start a relationship this way?
Openness and trust takes on a life-or-death kind of feeling. Or perhaps I'm simply neurotic as fuck.
Perhaps it's the new birth control.
My daughter said, in response to me dating someone new and thereby reinforcing my no longer being with her father, "You had your chance at love."
She simply picked up on me and this guy's togetherness on a field trip (so did her teacher) and confronted me. She's mad. She's sad.
It makes me wonder.
I can at least console her by saying, "I will not be getting married ever." And then I hear myself say to her, "and I already told him that."
What kind of fucking conversation is this to be having with your ten year old?
And did I tell him that?
And who is him?
Him that is running ramshod through my life. Who is he? What's he mean to me? Why does he so suddenly mean so much?
I had to tell the ex-dh of course. Cause the ten year old can't tell him. And she will. And that's cool. Telling him is infuriating of course. And then there's a call from the principal's office. Molly's melting down.
This thing that's happening; it is page one of a thousand page book but okay, let's spill the beans. Let's face the music. In the words of Good Morning America's Advice Guru, "Let's make room for love."
Tonight and last night and even today, I felt sick of not knowing.
I felt sick of people hurting.
I realized how really bad I am at playing games.
Especially the dirty ones my mind is fooling with.
I want to know. I want to be sure. I want Certainty to be my middle name.
Is it so far from Audacity?
I want to smoke in bed.
I want to trade myself in for a new me.
I wonder why I'm in my pajamas drinking wine out of a plastic cup.
I want to reach you. I want to invest. I want you to rush in. I want you to convince me. I want you to commit while I squirm away.
I want you to see my worth. I want you to ravage me.
It's all about me pretty much.
I want to give up when it gets hard. I want to pull off the scab and make you eat it. I feel like quitting already. What was I thinking??????????????
Sylvia Plath never used fourteen exclamation points in a row.
I feel like I'm risking so much. Are there returns? For real? Are there? I'm not seeing it. But I smell self-sabotage. It smells like burnt hair in here. Why can't I enjoy myself? Cause really, what about this ISN'T ENJOYABLE?
Fear. Complications. Revelations. Insecurity. Embarrassing reveals. Sudden intimacy. Stumbles, Escalation, Love, Rush, Wait, Wonder.
It sucks being alone but it's easier. You know you get used to lethargy. That's the definition of it. You think, life will just be like this now.
But I DID NOT want that life. Page one is a good place to start. In fact, we may have gotten to page two tonight.
"Oh dear, out here.
Everybody stumbles on fear.
Who cares if we're scared?
Everyone is on there own."