About the time we kissed on the Ferris Wheel, I apologize but I did warn you about my fear of heights. It is unseemly to want to dredge up the past so I understand your reticence as we talk, that old way that your voice trills up at the end of sentences, especially those words with hard consonants and long vowels. I'm gonna make this easy for you.
Why'd you call after all this time? What did you want for me to say? That, surely not just that.
Yeah, yeah. All is well, I'm happy, sounds like you're happy, we should catch up sometime, ok bye bye.
Well, yes. I suppose that is what you want, isn't it?
Oh, now, stop sobbing. Unseemly, the way you dip so easily into your old bag of emotional distress, tossing around the pity card as if you were truly downtrodden. I can't believe I can still read your mind; I figured five years would have clouded the view into your twisted little mind.
Yes, I'm still angry. Why wouldn't I be? I mean, I am justified in my immediate defensiveness, since your perogative is usually to wound me in whatever capacity that you can get your grubby little insecurity latched upon. Pitch perfect, you swing your voice determined to crash it against any spot with a bit of purchase.
Yes, I suppose you are a monster.
You never could take the truth, could you? Intellectualize it any way you want, baby. Justifications about your younger self, maybe it was this, maybe it was that time with the little girl who humiliated you. Maybe it was my fault, all of it, then would you be at ease, which is the only goal any of us who loved you ever possessed.
Yeah, you're right, only is an incorrect word.
Yes, yes, so there were ulterior motives, you and me and she and she and she. It really doesn't matter at this point, does it?
Hello?
Alright, look, I really have to go. Maybe some day we can have this talk and be friends, right?
Really, I have to go.
Alright, take care, bye bye.
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Before you think that was something that happened tonight or any night, it wasn't. I just started writing the Ferris Wheel line and it came out. I think it was all the voices that I have heard on the other end of the line when I do the occasional "what does it all mean" routine in my mind from "High Fidelity."
You know, I feel like a sham sometimes. I mean, look at me, I'm not that great at anything, and yet I'm in a decent position to be a relative success in life. I'm upwardly mobile, which is a good thing in this world of dollar signs and emotional stability, and I'm set to take this glass elevator though the ceiling. Why am I mired in a feeling that this is all going to end? I can't shake the feeling that I need to ruin this soon in order to get to the core of myself: I'm a failure.
Look at this, I need to flog my insecurities on a blog. I guess this makes me feel special.
The biggest problem is my feelings toward Lady E. She's special, one of a kind, and she wants little old me. I need to give her the world, rather than this humdrum ordinary misanthrope boyfriend that she comes home to every night. I somehow feel like I'm not enough, that I need to give her more of myself, which I'm shocked to find is not there. I don't have enough energy right now to want to get out of bed right now, let alone shrug my shoulders and lift up her world. But I should! That's the long and the short of it.
ELV: I love you. I really do. I hope this weak old man is enough.
To the world: I guess it takes a certain amount of egotism to drive a man to air out his mental malaise to an indifferent world. Take pity on me, cause that's what insecurity demands.
If I post this, I'm an idiot.
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I guess I should finish this with some words of encouragement:
- Day 2 of cigarette quit: had one slide back, but in general surly from lack of toxins. Coughing up all sorts of crap. Hasn't helped the allergies and cold plus ear infection. Not only is internet my therapist, but its also my medical testimonial.
- Cooked up heart healthy meal (homemade gnocci with herbs w/o butter, bean salad with cucumber, pan seared portobello, and steamed broccoli...dessert was a tropical fruit sorbet).
- I'm headed to Second City in Chicago with KidW for comedy writing/improv acting class in July. Will be a wonderfulic adventure...with mini scones, baby.
- Baltimore teaching hunt is on...any leads on any high paying, low effort jobs in the baltimore area are much appreciated.
- Why are there so many good TV shows? I never have time to watch all the modern masterpieces that are airing on the boob tube. Bastards.
- To ELV, thanks for the chicken soup...
- Finally, standardchuck maxim #28: never allow asians to write long blog entries when coming off chemical addictions while fighting sinus infections because the results are downright unreliable, much like the performance of an iPod, in entertainment value. I mean, come on, is it that difficult to come up with a music player that doesn't lock up every hour? Freakin' reboot...I'd like to reboot my nano against Steve Jobs' smirking face.
2 comments:
Regarding the healthy diet: Butter Spray.
Deep inside the velvet mouths of luxury apartments across the country, elegant and publically self-assured people are plagued with doubts in the middle of the night. Maybe they woke up that morning and thought they saw something less than everyone else saw in the mirror. Maybe no one knows what they're doing. Maybe Jean-Claude VanDamme turns wearily to the sleeping 16-year old girl next to him and worries that maybe he should have become a chef, or a vacuum cleaner salesman. If he had, maybe we'd ALL be better off.
In the end, uncertainty doesn't make anyone a failure; it makes you human, my love. You don't have to hold up the world for me. I don't want you to. I want you to hold your face close to mine when we curl into bed at night.
I don't want a velvety apartment. I want to sing stupid songs with you in our tiny kitchen as we cook dinner together. And i want to sit down at the table and eat, very slowly, the tender meal that we made for each other.
I'd take your strong, sweet hand in mine over the world any day.
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