i’ve been thinking a lot about “letting go.”
i let go of you the minute i saw you behind the bar cleaning your brand new belly button piercing. you were gorgeous.
it wasn’t even a conscious thought. it was a reflex. perfect people don’t want me. i’m damaged. i’m trouble. i’m too much work & not pretty enough for it.
so i didn’t give you a second thought. a neurotic thought. instead i just talked to you. acted as if i had nothing to lose. because i had nothing to lose. a girl like me would never get a chance to lose a boy like you.
so i let go. i never thought–ever–of you as someone who could fall in love with me…so i never fell in love with you.
we became friends.
& you were the best of friends.
god you were so much fun.
& then you fell for me.
why? why did you fall for me? why me? when you are perfect & beautiful & not damaged…why would you fall for someone like me?
i am none of those things.
& i had already let you go because it doesn’t make any sense.
any sense at all.
that someone like you would fall for someone like me.
we liked to say
that we were bigger than the beatles.
& when things were good
i believed we were unstoppable
but that damaged part of me
that damaged part
was just waiting for the day you would leave me
one way or another
i knew that day would come
so i kept letting go
over & over & over
hurting both of us in the process….
after i lost you
i kept letting go. over & over i “let go” of you.
over & over.
i never let go of you at all
& i never will.
i thought loving you made me weak
i have never been
update…i found a drawing i did of this photograph–done from the photograph–back in a journal from 1995/96. so i remembered the photograph slightly wrong.
but my sentiment still stands.
we met too soon
we were children
both of us
full of mistakes to make
& we made them with
…but not together
we met too soon
it’s a simple
but profound fact
i wasn’t ready
for that kind of
i’ve made my apologies
i’ve done my penance
for wrongs i commited
but it’s not my fault
we met too soon.
youth is wasted on the young. if only i knew then what i know now. we all know how it goes. they say those things because it is true. you learn life’s lessons.
and then you live with it.
some people are lucky and get a chance to put into action what they learn.
i don’t know if i will be that lucky.
but i did learn. and i should be thankful for that.
i feel a certain amount of peace in knowing that he was it. it was always him. i don’t know how to explain it. such a long story. but it was always him. always.
i feel peaceful with that realization. and knowing that i am a better person today for having known him & for having learned from our time together.
knowing that if i met him again, i wouldn’t fuck it up.
maybe i cursed myself
not the moon
not a man
i brought down
locked it away
as a thing
maybe this is what happens when a comic artist
i like this. this is page one. i haven’t figured out page two yet. i have been too busy obsessing over on okcupid.
dammit! i so said i wasn’t going to do that!
fucking loneliness. and the more i read about other people the more i become convinced that i am an anomaly and that the only person who is going to embrace me & my lifestyle is the grifter/drifter character (played by both paul newman & don johnson) from the movie/mini-series the long, hot summer.
so that’s what i’m looking for now.
here’s a funny one. i got messaged that women like me used to be worshipped and the said messenger would happily cast rose petals at my feet & worship me accordingly as his queen.
i love messages like this. i was all ready to message back:
yes. i used to lead armies, burn cities, and demand the sacrifice of first born sons…but now i am trapped in illinois with four kids & no money or viable options for romance. fucking karma.
however, on okcupid, you now have to “like” someone in order to message them & i was unwilling to like this guy because he saw meteor showers as a waste of time & would never go for a walk in the woods or on a road trip.
so what did he think our chances were? did he even read my profile?
silly internet dating.
the guys i do like do not message me back. (sad face)
but it is kind of fun digging through the brain closets of random strangers via not-so-well-thought-out multiple choice questions.
that’s all i got right now.
disillusionment & dead chicken comics.
aren’t you glad you’re following me?
i’m so tired
of these feelings of desperation
what is real?
what is longing?
& what is just a big chasm
something intrinsically wrong
a hole in me
a black succubus of love
any warm body