less

We used to play in the snow. naked cheesecake. meat-a-ballsah. 2 beds. three. one. There was a foot spa and christmas poetry. stop and shop thievery. lennon obsession and the playback of hidden dragon over and over (and over). super-stickied love notes. Daisies and beds too high. scrap-books and half-assed home making. jeopardy and back scratching. dump after dump after dump; flooded basements and lost ikea rugs.

I guess it was inevitable...everything we ever shared found its way into ruin. I guess you can't question that grand scheme- overwhelming and always victorious.

He asked why you don't live here tonight. What can you say to something like that? he asked if you were here when we got out of the shower. What do you say to something like that? I told him he has your hands tonight. He does. I think it made me begin to miss them again; because his are too small and don't reach for my cheek the way you used to, every night, before we fell into dreams.

No matter what you start with, it always ends up being so much less.

So much less.

ref: "she just wept", starsailor

while he sleeps

The first half of my week is tedious.....it hurts in very specific places of my body; the aching of immobilization.
I sleep 3 hours each night until saturday when my body finally gives. The laundry is piled and the dishes are high, carpets beg for vacuuming and surfaces gasp for air buried beneath the week's neglected dust. I drop him on saturday night, with a long pause and a quiet sigh.

I was sitting here, feeling immobilized. Too tired to get into the work that is waiting for, and laughing at, me. And then I remembered that he is sleeping in the next room- not in the sense that I had forgotten but that i had re-remembered.

Ive taught him what mommy wants to be when she "grows up." He knows why we are in the city all the time and what mommy's real "work" is. I get these immense and intolerable urges to just go to sleep- my body begging for respite and i just keep pushing it. Push. lets go. MOVE! Lacrosse-battle reminiscent: it's pouring rain, the mud is thick and unyielding but the goal is in sight and there are just a couple defenders in the way. GO!! Jonas said it is b/c i am a "hustler"; I believe its because i dont want to fail. I make myself believe that failure is not an option, in any way, shape, or form; I cannot allow it to be.

I failed at the relationship; ive failed at several. I helped break apart his family and I make myself believe that at least I can still build myself into something he can be proud of- that I can eventually be proud of. Whenever the derivatives begin to overtake and the rules of physical science overwhelm I simply remember that he is sleeping in the next room, staying in the house across the hills. I remember that this all will have to be worth it, that I have to make this whole damned mess finally worth it.

GO!

Actually, the emotion feels closer to hate...But, the brilliance of cognitive neuroscience tells us that love and hate are identical in the chemical brain. Imagine that....

I tell myself that every time I get the urge to strangle you with my bare hands. And while I continue to think of you as a meathead, Julian thinks youre swell and thats enough to keep my fingers at bay. Also, I happen to be practiced with restraint and perspective, which goes a good deal of the way.

I was trying to combine the two words for a title...it can't reasonably be done without making anothing perfectly logical word.

I L-ATE you
I H-OVE (think 'hover', or 'have' misspelled) you. Albeit not so reasonable, but way too much of a stretch. And I don't think much of my reader, obviously, so I wanted to make things simple. When I wrote "reasonable" I was mostly referring to "late" since I wanted "hate" to dominate.

(And I was wondering about Ms. Mendhelsson who has always been very reasonably on time, as have you, and both were close to an hour late. AND she was empty handed AND knew it which made the meeting entirely useless and awfully expensive WHICH was known in advance....you're so filthy. Rotten. Stinking. Plath-style raw.

how do you sleep? o, you don't.

better ask yourself why

were not friends anymore. I was delusional to think that we could be. Or simply hopeful; Are they the same emotion?. Kris says there is too much pain in the way and too much space. That we both still love each other too much- something to that effect- and it would only be a matter of time.

I believed she was right until last week or so...(if memory serves, and it generally does not).

I think it was a series of moments, and not just one. Irresponsibility and impulse would alternately lie in place of this incredibly calm frustration had it only been one "defining" event. it was several.

And, something else has been happening. I used to be quick to please, ultimately too sacrificial for the sake of others to which I should have no loyalty. And it was to him that I have finally turned away. I have no wish to please or accommodate him any longer and it was these moments that solidified that.

In between those moments I thought we would make it. I wished even and dreamt of it as I made breakfast in the morning, and passed by those looming New York brownstones downtown where I imagined we'd fashion a home someday soon. And during every trip back to the island from "the city (emphasis on the t)" as Jules anxiously begged to stay, wished that we lived there, I'd say quietly "soon....soon."

He remembers "the old home" and speaks of it often. Even when we are nowhere near it. And I used to remember with him and keep the fantasy glowing, anxious for when he could have that again, for when I could.

I wasnt ready enough and I guess he wasnt patient enough. This has always been our problem. I was hoping the time apart had mended it a little and brought the gaps a little closer together. I can be right about every other relationship I see. I will never be right about ours. Or rather, I have always been right and have been trying so hard to be wrong. I had no problem being wrong in class on Monday. Application to reality: Intuition will only get you so far. And even then, the lowest quiz gets dropped.

reference: jamie lidell, "game for fools"