Wednesday, February 14, 2007

At all at all.

I am reminded tonight of a night last year (for some ungodly reason), when I was being broken up with and was unaware. Not a truly heart breaking story, he was a lack-luster lover, and it had only been one month. Regardless, the one and only thing about our short and sweet stint of a relationship that I value was one thing he said to me that night. I remember sitting across the table, with my heals hooked onto a bar on the stool I was sitting on, rocking back and fourth, in a dive bar close to his house. He went on and on about himself, much like he always did, I sat and smiled as best I could. Really quite a bore. Then he said it, I can even still hear his voice, the one and only time he referenced me in a conversation. He was trying to break it off but was being impossibly vague and made a reference to my past love life. He said to me, "It's just that it is pretty obvious that you've been fucked over pretty bad in the past . . . " To which I replied, in kind of a shell shocked state, "Oh god! Do I seem that jaded?" "No, that's it, you're sweet, and that's why I feel so bad."

That is forever burned in my brain.

It's nights like tonight that generally make me want to seek the shelter of a wooded/forested area. Somewhere I can be alone. However tonight I want to take my small friend with me. I want to grab that boney little hand, and lead her to the place I go to be away in flight and fantasy, show her this more than tepid temperature climate. I want to take my darling KTP and show the woman the secluded place where I can drown and come back to life if I so desire, where I can float up into the cosmos and ballroom dance with the ghost of a 5 year old who forgives me after all, at all at all. I want to hold her boney hand in my boney hand and together our four little chicken legs will burst through walls of dirt and clay and thatch and stone and brick and plaster and we can drink cheap champagne in little plastic cups until we are old women shopping in the supermarket on Valentine's Day together, reading labels, completely happy.

2 comments:

James said...

interesting that you used "at all at all" as i've never heard you use the experession - which is irish in its roots...its said all the time...in irish gaelic its

"ar bith go bragh"

The Never Kissable Miss Kendra said...

i guess it finally just hit me how perfect the phrase was.