Too Bad For You

Bring it on! Keep proving to me you're nothing more than an arrogant fellow with money. I want to finally learn my lesson so that people like you and people like me, never have to cross paths.

I see the good in people. The problem is that I like seeing the good in people. And the chances you might see something that isn't really there, is almost guaranteed. Because while you may be generous and while you may be kind, I'm not so sure you're sincere in your generosity or genuine in your kindness.

It bothers me to admit this to myself. Because...god...I thought I knew you...from my childhood. I felt innocent with you because we were of the same background. But, you're an entirely different species and I failed to remember that, failed to see it. I mean, you're a man through and through...and not a 'man'. Do you see what I mean? I'm just some chick, a ball buster, someone to control and to you, unintelligent.

I have to be those things in order for you to feel good about yourself, to continue being who you are. You have to call the shots. Do you know what's funny? I'm more old-fashioned than the women my paisans married. 

I cook. I clean. I take care of my husband. I maintain a beautiful home. I pay the bills. I shop for my household. I'm all those things no one needs to tell me to do. I didn't marry my father. I married my equal. And I can still go out all by myself to have a coffee and hang out anywhere I choose without my husband's permission. Do you get that?  Do you think that after 52 years on this planet, I'd let someone, some average dude, dictate how I should live? How I should behave? 

I'm psychic, baby! I'm so bloody intuitive, it hurts. Be a child. Throw your weight around like you're some studmuffin. I don't care. Do you know who you are?

You're the cold one I ran into in front of the cafe last July. The one who didn't have 2 minutes to spare but thinks it's okay to spend an hour talking about himself back at the building.

You're the cold one by the mailboxes when you responded sarcastically to me. Or when you kept saying you had a gift for me but then took 9 months to give it to me.

Don't you get it? That's what I'm going to remember about you. Not for taking me out to lunch, twice. Not for the holiday gifts. I'm going to remember how you left me hanging because I wasn't important enough for you to get back to. I'm going to remember how you ignored me after I wished you all the best.

And then you think the slate is wiped clean because you spent some money? You must have figured out how unimportant all of that really is to a woman like me, huh? Money is nice, sure. But, I can take care of myself. I wasn't going to throw myself at you in order to show you what you mean to me. 

So go your merry way. I'll eat you with my words. I'm too smart for you. I'm too creative. Too poetic. I'm filled with magic. I'm open and sweet and compassionate. I'm all those things you can't fathom in a woman, all those things you deep down secretly want but will never admit to yourself. 

That's too bad for you.

Shadows

One more minute with you and I saw everything I needed to see. You're emotionally, stunted. You're crystallized in your mentality. You are exactly with the person you're supposed to be with. She's perfect for you because her depths are as shallow as yours.

You don't want the real. You couldn't handle the intensity. All you have is physical strength but it pales in comparison to the kind of inner fortitude you'd need to handle someone like me.

You don't have it. You lack that kind of special quality. Don't get me wrong, you're a good guy. But, you can't be 'that' guy. I saw that about you sitting quietly, next to you, as you said this or that thing. 

I got that taste in my mouth, that familiar and bitter taste, as I realized you could never understand a woman like me. I tried so hard to get that other taste to return. But, it was too late. On my way home, there it was again with me, just lingering against the noise of the sub on the tracks. All my thoughts zipping fast, scrawled along the windows...there was no stopping them.

So what if you're around? So what if you're in front of me, while my spirit operates above you? We'll never be equals. You'll never get me. Whatever tenderness I recognize in you, is already a tenderness I possess. It's not enough. It's just not enough.

So, I'm crushed being confronted by this shadow coming to light. I ought to be grateful that the light came through. But sometimes, oh god, sometimes, I'd rather live in the shadows.

Thanking The Gods

I'm glad this is over. I'm glad the anticipation of you is over, too. I don't wonder if I'll hear from you again. Whether you'll throw me a nugget of sweetness or sincerity. It's done. This is done. The end of the road has arrived.

Here I am at my destination. I take a seat on a rock by the sea. You're not the only one who loves the water, you know. And I can still be a city girl, while I think of stories to tell about a girl like me who belongs to the sea.

It must be Hariel who takes me to that place in my mind where I'm free. Where the truth of you is so downright plain, I don't wish to be near you. 

So what if you're generous? So what if you're kind? So what if you're funny? What does any of that matter when anyone and everyone can say the same things about you?

How does any of it make me special? Special...to you? That's right, it doesn't. It can't. It's not possible. The impossibility of my heart skipping a beat is certain now. Congratulations. You're not the man I thought you were.

You don't want to be sweet. You just want to be macho. Man is such a fool. If he could only see that by investing some time and energy figuring out how to mesh the two, he'd have the world at his feet. 

I see now how you're not interested in me as a person, a woman, a being. Your only concern ever was how to impress me. Because by impressing me might afford you other things you'd never have to pay for but expect that I'd be selling. Wow, you must think we're all just fighting our way to make it to the front of the line. I'm not sorry I disappointed you. You should have been more concerned about disappointing me!

Since it's obvious to the both of us that I'm not selling anything, I see very clearly how much I don't mean to you. Against the backdrop of your ego, which occupies way too much space, it feels like a blow to the face.

Do you understand what a turn off it all is? That you can't stimulate me, intellectually? I liked the other version of you, when I believed your actions were pure and sincere. I hung onto, what I considered were jewels, for a very long time.

But, they weren't jewels, only shattered pieces of glass, leaving cuts in places I never knew were there. 

You can have the control. You can call the shots. You can spend your money on whatever you want. You can keep feeding your ego rather than your mind with silly notions about what it means to be a man, a husband, a father, a friend, a lover. Do whatever you please.

I'll continue sitting here on a rock by the sea thanking the gods for waking me up.

Texas

How does that happen? You and me sitting side by side? Just like in the dream. I had a feeling you might sit next to me and not in front of me. There were moments when you were so close and I saw a look in your eyes, which caught me off guard. But, you know, I was only partially caught off guard, because it made sense, to be that close, as if it was just you and I, and we didn't have the lives we have.

And then when you mentioned your friend from Texas, while I was already tipsy from the one alcoholic beverage, it took me right back to that other dream...of you and I sitting side by side at a picnic table in some park I've never been before. 

I remember after I woke up from having that dream, how upset and emotional I was because I knew it was only about me and my thoughts and nothing whatsoever to do with you or reality. Especially when you mentioned having to go to Texas. Out of all the places you could mention, it was Texas. Which of course, made no sense. After all, it was just a dream.

But then, in passing, when you spoke about your friend from...Texas, it kind of took my breath away. I don't really know why. I mean, who cares? But, it was Texas, like in the dream, and it made me feel that somehow you and I are connected. My rational mind says that can't be true. But, since I've got so many layers to me, why couldn't it be true? 

I tried so hard to give you your space, you know? Because I didn't want to be disrespectful. At times, I noticed you did that for me, too. And when you touched my arm, I got goose bumps. It occurred to me that I'd been touchy feely with you...maybe a bit too much. I'm sorry.

You're miles away now, physically and most likely, emotionally. Men and women are wired so differently. You and I? For sure.

So, I'm just waiting for this torture to end. I know it'll happen soon. I'm typically an all or nothing kind of girl when it comes to certain things. It's not enough you might feel something. It's not enough. Yet, at other times, it is. But not today. Not after this year. What a year, it's been. 

That look in your eye won't carry me for much longer. It'll let me go the first chance it gets. You won't be there to pick me up off the floor. You're not poetic enough. You don't get me. It's just one of those things you'll never get to do...or, at the very least, try at.

When you care about someone, you want to see them. You don't want to see me. Well, you do. But, you don't. And you can't. And you won't. Isn't that the truth of it? So, there's no point to any thought of you. 

You're happy. I see that you're happy. You found a place in this world to call your own. I'm happy for you. But, unlike the dream, I won't dare tell you that.

This Train

I can cut this sadness with a knife. Would you like a piece? I thought not. I can't stop this train. Everyone on this train is not growing strong but instead, more fragile and crystallized in their flaws. All you can do is observe, if you're aware of what you're looking at.

Train's picking up speed. They don't tell you how it creeps up on you while you're making sure no hair strand is out of place. While your thoughts are roaming and resting upon something offensive a stranger said. Or as you're picking out lingerie at a downtown boutique. 

No one tells you how words can change your whole world in an instant. How they can give or take away hope. No one tells you how you're here now but maybe not in the next. 

In the next life? What does it matter? Oh, those glory days. Remember them? When your face turned pepper red because some crush said something nice to you. And all you wanted was to rush time ahead so you could get to do all those things you couldn't when you were young. You thought freedom was something you could buy.

And then you got your freedom and it wasn't what you had imagined it would be, would look like, feel like. It was a steady train going nowhere. It was only ever a steady train until it wasn't.

It wakes you up from your dreams. Any control you thought you had is now an illusion, something life forced upon you in order to surrender to it. Do you understand? The more resistance you display, the more friction you'll have to endure.

I miss those days when dreaming was right and good. I don't miss those days when I realized that dreaming was only for the innocent.

Here we are, wondering how we got here. Except it's so pointless to wonder. You can't turn back time. And while the future isn't guaranteed, this moment is all we really have. May these moments be blessed with the kind of hope and faith that move mountains, not merely to exist, but to live, to simply...live. And to live simply with grace.

The Lone Wolf

I can't believe how it's come to this. I didn't see it coming. I feel more of myself shedding, layers sloughing, pieces falling away in chunks. I swear I can hear the pieces when they hit the ground. It can feel abrasive, shocking. They wake me up to this kind of horror I don't know how to unsee. You think me dramatic? I see things. 

The way you carry yourself. The way we all carry ourselves. It's all just fading away into nothing. Nothing anyone can do about it. What are you doing? Are you helping polish my ruby? Is that what this is for? You want me pure and whole? I'm not stupid, you know. I understand that's what it takes to get there...to be there.

Oh baby, I'm a lone wolf who feels things. Feels things deep in my bones. These bones that are getting weaker and yet, stronger...because I'm a lone wolf. And to think that there was something wrong with me only to discover that there isn't, that all I have to do is accept this is who I am...what a relief, what a gift from the angels, what peace to be bestowed upon me when I read words on a page that whispered to me that I'm not alone, that I'm finally understood. 

I like to be alone. But not only that...I need to be alone to recharge. Recharging comes from the act of reflection. I work things out quietly, without the help of anyone. 

I don't enjoy large crowds or parties, though I'm not one hundred percent an introvert. I value and cherish one on one connections. If we have a connection, it's because we wholeheartedly accept one another. If we don't, it's not because you're not liked. It's because we don't jibe. I won't sacrifice my mental and emotional health to spend time with people because we have the same blood coursing through our veins. My friends are my family. My family is not necessarily my friend.

When I hurt, it takes a long while to recover. Especially, when it's completely unexpected, when someone I thought was genuine turns out to be just like the rest. Even if hurting me was unintentional, even if the other person was oblivious to their own lack of attention,  I become acutely aware in an instant, that I had valued someone who didn't value me in the same way. 

If that person apologizes, I feel a hardening suddenly soften because I see that they care. But if there's no apology, even if to that person, they don't see they've done anything wrong, it just reinforces to me that while my perception may be incorrect about them, they can't be the company I keep because the right person for me would know to apologize.

Since I have a good read on people for the most part, I see when a truth is staring at me in the face because it's one I'd rather not see. I'd rather not see it and that's how I know it rings true. I can't make any excuses for them. I can't pretend I don't feel what I feel. Rather, my feelings show me what cannot be denied.

So, as a lone wolf, aloneness can become loneliness until I remember to accept who I am and then I realize it's better to be here alone and at peace than be connected to someone who doesn't respect me the way I deserve to be respected.

No Ceremony

I'm so lucky. I didn't realize just how lucky I was until I opened my eyes this morning and saw the light reflect through the makeshift stained glass windows. The things I can see and the feelings I can feel when one eye is poking out from behind the satin sheets.

I'm snug as a bug. I've got my flowers, my books, by blackout navy blue curtains, my colourful bed quilt, my red and yellow dresser, my red nightstands, glass red lamps...Oh gosh, the things I can dream up in this room, you can't imagine. I love it here...no drama...except for the kind I can concoct all by myself. That's the only kind I'll accept.

I am finalizing the last remaining details of my Will and Testament. Yes, that day has come to think about such things, about the finality of everything as I know it. 

Even here in my imagination, even here where I escape from the harshness of life, reality still manages to take a foothold. But, I'm going to make it beautiful. I'm going to make it count. 

There will be no funeral, no wake, no ceremony. My ashes will be scattered on the water somewhere of my choosing. No one will gather around for me. Let us rejoice eachother while alive. 

I don't care for your tears if your presence is non-existent...now. Stay away. I'm perfectly fine. I've been to enough funerals to know none of it actually matters. I see how people treat eachother. I see how family members fall short. I see how asleep we all are. I see how mean, cruel and petty we can be. I'll let none of that honour me in the end. I won't give anyone who didn't care in this life for me an opportunity to give some meaningless speech about how they wished they'd tried harder to be kinder. Fuck you!

Maybe some of my ancestors will greet me, maybe Mary will be there, maybe Jesus, angel Uriel ? Thank goodness for you all. I'll forget this place but first give it thanks. I hope I've gathered enough of myself to still exist. Maybe, just maybe, and only then, my suffering will finally make sense.