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She was going to steal a line from the robot: treating days as waiting rooms.
fuck.
g-u-i-l-t-y
It made her heart throb when she asked if other people were like her? waiting for someone to notice them - an object unobserved - what the fuck is that? invisible - un-existing.
--
They were driving back from Highlands in his black new-ish Hyundai SUV. The roads were windy. They had not yet gotten to the fake snow sledding that she would regret passing up for the rest of... the month. She was fucking frazzled. Her family always seemed to rile her up no matter how many mantras or therapists tell her she is all right.
When she had been crying a bit in the bed next to Leon, she had said it, "it's so weird to me sometimes to feel so unloved when people are telling me they love me. it confuses me so much, and I always feel like an exile. thanks for coming on this with me, and I'm sorry I'm such a mess. I seem to take you on all my intense family things lately - it fucks me up and I'm sorry."
He didn't look at her, but she couldn't tell because she was too ashamed to look at him - she had fucking cried on the fucking bed in the middle of the night next to him. She wasn't sure if he had heard her because he was in his back turned edge of the bed Siberia, but that probably made her amp up the silent let go sobs.
She was a drama queen, but she didn't hate that label as much as the others. She actually laughed when people said "I don't like drama." - what fools. you are drama dumbass, but she maybe understood it more as, "I like to control you."
What did she know, she was just learning she was a caldron of definition by relationship. If that's something that doesn't sober you up knowing way past 50 - you're not alive.
So, she asked him if he wanted to do the family breakfast or just head on. She had already had a mild temper tantrum because he wasn't off the dating apps, he didn't reassure her her liked her when... who gives a fuck.
She knew her days of analyzing every input of info to determine if she was worthy of love was over. On that drive back home - their last really - she was apologizing again, but he didn't really care. He was so done.
"... and my stepfather. he's the worst. I love him so much. he's all I have, and he thinks," she whimpered a little, "he thinks I'm a loser. " she paused and teared up and continued, "although it's odd because he also thinks I should be a doctor of psychology - which he never tells me because he talks through my mother."
She was babbling and rambling and holding it all up.
this dead thing she didn't yet really realize was finally dead.
He didn't even seem to be in it enough to even care. "hey, can you reach back and get those cookies." She had made some for the trip. They were the weirdest because she hadn't pre-cooked the rolled oats, but they were edible. He ate them.
and it never would have worked anyway.
She was too all in
she had flaws that hurt it.
the biggest one was
she treated the days without you as a waiting room.
she made fun of you for saying you like to make love to people you don't love.
she realized she wasn't much different from you except
the let go/orgasm instead of the sex.
The only thing that mattered was that she now fucking knew.
it was not able to be hidden. She danced around it, but the truth was.
in her essence, she thought she didn't matter unless you chose her.
It was going to be hard to break free of that notion.
but fuck
knowing such a thing is disgusting
she was motivated to
be real.
now
Oh there's a sentence girlie. But how to be here now?
Well, she didn't know, but the first step was seeing the mess.
again.
"So, do you love me? I've never asked."
he rolled his eyes so hard, "you and the love."
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