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as she was leaving her house to escape her own claustrophobic mind, she saw where the lei he had asked for from the tikii lounge was caught in the door. She winced but kept moving. She had a mission: get supplies to get numb. She was fucked. she was in pain. she was going to use whatever she could and then she she felt safe, she was going to get out of this hole.
she was going to get out of this
rut
When she turned back into her driveway, she had a bottle of tequila in her possession. it didn't excite her. In fact, it kind of made her scared. Was she turning into an alcoholic? oh well. and she bled all the time again - it was twelve days and counting. It made her feel sad, but part of her thought that maybe if she had cancer, she could get this life over with nobly and they say you lose weight in the process.
"do you love me now" as uttered from her fictitious deathbed.
what a drama queen. you could tell a decade away that this one had Leo on the south node. she knew all
about
drama.
oh god. It was real. The anesthesia she had used had worn off. the coma had been awoken from. she was a loser. she had lost something she cared about. fuck me. say it twenty million more times. she put her head out the window and silently screamed.
she had texted another him, "do you think you know me?"
It was meant more in the "because you talk to me like the case is done - there's no more to learn. you're all in. but I was curious because I've only shown you my polite side and my wanton needy lonely side. and I so wanted you to want to know me - to prove it by saying something insightful or pithy. instead, you're just devoted to my looks? which seems weird since I don't have any but that beaming smile I can fake. and I'm guessing you won't admit it but you're very very lonely too. that story you told me about waiting in line with your ex-wife for the Harry Potter release at midnight? it broke my heart. I would never do that."
and turning into the driveway, she heard on the local radio station the Neil young song about the waitress that is so lonely and she wept... again.
She was hoping she'd get to eventually dethrone the dude who had broken her heart and proven to her that she was still attached to ancient patterns: "can I show you myself and you not leave? or do I have to pretend forever and only feel safe when I'm totally alone? I don't want that version. I want the version where I'm safe with you and know that you love me. how can I ever get that."
She could feel it detaching. it made her very sad. she wanted to keep staring at the horizon - just one more day. And fine, keep staring. I don't mind. It just
sucked
she loved remembering the last day before she lost him - she loved remembering walking in the woods and worrying that she was chatting too much and he said, "I am here because I want to have someone to talk to."
she reached behind her. the yellow puffy vest was draped on the white desk chair. she randomly checked in the pocket, and pulled out a cocktail napkin from the wedding reception in highlands that we crashed. Congrats Anna & Ramsey, she hopes your love made it.
I mean, obviously, the green and gold object destroyed her.
but only a little bit. she had been destroyed long before you, so she just went back inside herself and didn't show anyone else even the tiniest glimmer.
it was all false.
she was saying it wrong. she was saying it too many times.
it didn't matter. no one saw. She could write five million entries for June. tomorrow was solstice. He loved tequila because he admired a director who ordered quadruple shots and never turned back. he was her favorite person she had met since the one before him. no one cared. no one knew.
She even remembered the first time she ever made a tequila and soda - back when she was 53. his one directive had been "lots of ice"
god god god. I love you.
"I know"
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