Sunday, May 1, 2011

Find me the Woodpecker, have him win my heart

My whole being is on the verge of a huge theraputic sob session.

I sit, not touching food in 2 days. No appetite. This morning while brushing my teeth these humungous, emotionless tears streamed down my face. Yet I made no sound. I made no faces. I guess my body decided to have a cry and hadn't told my mind. My mind' s been trying to put it off for forever, but know I'm about to get around to it.

You know, I see little things in life, often so miniscule in gesture, yet epic-romantical in my mind. And it makes me hope. Bad idea.

I'll see the most awesome little grafitti on a street corner. I'll imagine that it's an artsy boy that did it, and it's some clue how to find more of his art. So I delve in, and explore a bit, okay so a little bit like Le Fabuloux Destin de Amelie Poulin, but oh well, my fantasy.
I start leaving my own little art-bits next to his, and blah blah it leads us to meet and immediately be in love.

See, I'm supposed to have love right now. But I suspect it to be a ploy. Something to distract them til they find something better.

Always a reason or an excuse that -whoops, they forgot to tell me that huge detail, it slipped from their mind what loyal is. You know, here I am, a pretty damned good woman, and loyal as all hell, and when I ask for it in return this is the answer I get ;
"I'm learning, and I'm not always going to get it right. I am going to fuck up, and I will hurt you, but I'll be sorry" - I am paraphrasing, but still.
In laymens terms, "I'm gonna keep being disloyal to you, and this is pretty much my written notice to say fuck you I'll do whatever I please, because you are a pushover, and will take it. And always forgive me, as you have before".

And it's true. I am.
But somehow, everyday, I become a little stronger. A little more sure of myself. A little less willing to stick around and wait to see if the people I pumped blood sweat and tears into, turn out to break my heart, or be worth a shit.
Sometimes that angsty 15 year old girl I was comes through, in her emo-glory, and understands, I just sometimes need a day, where everything is "dark" as Benny would always say.
And she'll take a silent seat next to me, and we just bitch. About everything.

I can almost picture myself being under the bridge by my parents' house in Lynden at that age. My God. 15.
A lifetime ago. A couple actually.
Smokin Lucky Strikes, probably, unfortunately snorting Adderall, hours spent staring into the rushing Mt. Bakers' waters.
Wondering how I'd ever get anyone to love such a crazy, crazy girl.
And not for one night. Not just high. Or drunk.
But for a long while. Sober, even.

I care less and less everyday about pursuing anymore that ridiculous thing. Love.

What a fucking four-letter word.

I feel so old in that section of my life.

Damned curse it is to be a hopeless romantic with nothing to seduce and love.


  1. Not a guilt trip, but reading this really brought me down. I wish I could give you a hug, but all I can offer from these distances is a caring heart and compassionate ear...I will try and give you a call sometime today, if you read this before I call, it would be cool if you could let me know the best time for me to call. <8 I miss you, and I wanted to talk to you, even before I read this post. Until we get a chance to chat all I can offer you is that I care about you, and I will be periodically sending you positive vibrations over the course of the day, and hope that you resonate with those harmonics. All my best Jenna, you take care of yourself, okay?
    Missing and loving as always,
    Benny <8

  2. I know we've already talked about this. I know I'm a day late. I'm still going to post this comment. I want you to know that you do have love. I'm not using you as a distraction. You're not part of any ploy. I'm young and stupid, but I'm learning and maturing. You're holding that mirror for me to see myself in. Yet you hold up an actual mirror instead of the distorting circus mirrors everyone else seems to use. You are an amazing person EHG. You care about me. I want you to know that I care about you too. If it ever seems like I don't, fucking slap me into shape. Talk to me, tell me what I'm doing wrong. I love you my Angel.