Monday, February 21, 2005

winter returns

only the neighbor's dog barking out beyond the old barn and the snow coming down in slants. it must have started late last night after i went to bed, after i had dinner with my father at Bittersweet where Jeffrey sat with his his back to us like a slammed-shut door, after lunch with JG in providence which was what i expected it to be--another very needy and wounded man who i was pleasantly surprised by as i saw him from a distance but then got up close and tried not to see the uneven shave, the rumpled clothing, the bits of white on the shoulders of his sport coat, all a disapointment foretold and made fact, after my drunken saturday night at the Pawkachuck party and finding myself in EM's big white truck, his kisses too hard and his hand too fast down my shirt as if he were grabbing the gearshift and trying to go from neutral straight into fifth, after driving away and leaving a message on Jeffrey's cell --i'll leave the backdoor open if you need place to crash--and believing that my little message in a bottle would find the shore.

and so now it is snowing again and i am back to where i was before, my bravado and self-assurance of the past few days tattered, lost in a forest of my own circling, exposed, cold and looking for a way home.

Saturday, February 19, 2005

why again the why

tired, too many indulgences, can't settle. world is scrambled by the weird confluence of seeing Jeffrey several times in public over the past few weeks and feeling unalterably sad that he doesn't appear on my doorstep, despite all the door-slamming i've done. throw into the mix a nice guy who i met 'virutally' who has all the right pedigrees --ivy league, tenured, learned, articulate--i was totally infatuated on email, loved his picture, but when i talked to him last night felt wayyy too in control, detected more than a little wounded bird, a little too needy, a little too nice.....but which is worse? neediness covered-up with a thick veneer of nastiness and alcohol or one that is right out there?

why is 'nice' not something i am drawn to? why does 'nice' make me want to run as fast as i can towards every guy who ever treated me badly?

i don't know. just want to crawl back into my hole. tried to move a bureau from one room to another, thinking some sort of productivity would make me feel better. but, wouldn't ya know it, it's now stuck between rooms and god knows who i will have to invite over to help me.

Sunday, February 06, 2005

so many words

...and so it comes to this: it is not, i'm afraid, enough to be your own best friend.

at least not today, on my birthday, when i feel so alone and so sad, empty and hopeless. the calls from my kids this morning, their loving and dutiful voices music on the other end of the phone, dinner with my parents last night, but more of a celebration of my mother being upright than anything else. she was uncomfortable and ansy before the main course was finished, so i was left to wait for the bill alone. i bought a neighborhood-sized bag of chocolate covered raisins at the convenience store, and ate that as my birthday cake, in front of re-runs of Law & Order. I have tried, all day, to not fall through the floor as I always do on my birthday, running just ahead of the cloud of despair, waiting for something unexpected to happen, which it never does. yesterday, i saw J driving in the bright sunlight, his top down, sunglasses on. he gave me a little, almost imperceptible 3-finger wave, his hand hardly moving from the steering wheel and roared-off. all day i missed him, all day i was off my game, willing him to come by, willing him to stay the night, hating him and wanting him at the same time.

my age hits me harder than ever before. i am not just an adult, which i've just barely come to terms with, but i am an aging adult and this fact is tough. i am still struggling, still working everything out as if i were an adolescent, still living in split worlds, split minds, not knowing who i am or how i want to spend the change in my pocket.

i don't want to be married, but i wonder why i am not? why has everyone else that i know managed to negotiate this terrain? why do i feel like a fragile vessel that leaks all of the water that is poured into it?

faith is the evidence of things unseen, but i am so very tired of not seeing.