i am trying not to spin out. i’m at one of those–“no wait, this is the first day of the rest of my life” moments.
everything i have read today on wordpress has me thinking:
1.) well, i’m not alone
2.) wow, they wrote it so much better
so i’m waffling between it being pointless for me to contribute to an already strong tide of writing…and wanting to jump in & share my uniquely similar thoughts & experiences.
so i wrote a few pages.
but i also have a sink full of dirty dishes.
a carpet that has forgotten what the vacuum sounds like.
a pile of cucumbers on the table demanding i do–what–pickles? why do i have so many cucumbers?
laundry laundry laundry!
a 12 year old glaring at me because i used my sense of humor for parenting & did it wrong.
a 10 year old who wants me to go outside & bounce a tennis ball with him or it is further proof that i do not love him.
a four year old who desperately requires routine so it is imperative that after he poops i must not only wipe his bottom but also foot-race him down the hallway after he flushes.
and a six year old…wait…where’s my six year old? i should probably know where my six year old is….
i re-posted a couple of poems that i wish i had written (coming soon–my book, a collection of poems i wish i had written)
and maybe later i will get around to drawing some journal pages?
once upon a time we sat in a room
where i lived
& you visited
just to see me
& we looked at our feet as we brainstormed
how to make
your feet with so much character
of tree frog feet
my feet, i said, would be the picture
in the dictionary
under the word
a million years later my feet are not so
as they used to be
but they still remind me
through stories told
that maybe you have never said
little victim you
all of a sudden
you remember her
& remember what an awful little
she could be
that sweet little sensitive you
& walked on the
like it was nothing
how have you never seen this before?
this side of you?
or did you just
file her away in the
cardboard box of your
“do not open”
“seriously, burn this box”
to cook for you
a bowl of beef stew
to make you coffee
just the way you like it
to pour you a glass of whiskey
& listen to you rant
to grow tomatoes in my garden
slice & salt them
to draw your portrait
over & over
until i know your features
better than i know
as a mostly wild & untamed thing, it surprises me when i feel this way towards another person.
when i was nineteen & in my very first relationship, that boyfriend curled up on the floor one evening and asked me, “would you take care of me if i had polio?”
having no sense of normal polite responses i could have made, i blurted out an honest one, “no!”
is it irony or not that he ended up dumping me after i developed a cyst that required his help in the daily draining of? ha! my first experience with being let down easy.
as a child, i watched my largely unnurturing mother give all of her attention to her giant toddler of a husband. i came to believe that it was weakness to care for & to care about a man. sure, i fell in love all the time…but to care about them? to care for them? to need them?
as you can guess, i was very popular with the boys. i once made a goth industrial dude cry when i told him i didn’t need him.
he was not the first or the last man i made cry.
love ’em & leave ’em crying.
except for the one.
i did break up with him twice, but in the end–he destroyed me.
but this is what i am wondering.
is it the end?
i know and–if you read my blog regularly & for more than a few weeks–you know too that this seems to be a cycle for me.
i realize i still love him & am devoted to that.
then i get pissed off at myself
& at him
and vow to forget him & to find someone else.
i try that for awhile
find i can’t stomach it
and realize again how much i love him.
if you have been reading my blog the past couple of weeks…you might notice i am once again winding up to devotion.
love & caring.
for just one man.
i have my kids. i have my art. i have my homestead. he is the only addition i would make to that. he is the only one i want.
whether that is stupid, silly, sentimental, & saccharine nonsense or not….i don’t care. it’s how i feel. i have spent so much of my life going over my psyche with a fine toothed comb. i cannot deny this. whether i ever see him again or not, he is the one & the only one i want.