hey your glass is empty
it's a hell of a long way home
It has been a month. Has it been a month? Yes, a month, and last night it occured to me that if I do not stop it right now, it will probably continue. At the rate it's going now, given where I am in the space of a month, it will be exponentially worse by this time next month. I can't even think beyond that. I'm trying not to think beyond that, and am doing a really good job so far. Because if I think about that then it will occur to me, really, how stupid I am.
I am not at all ready. At all. I discovered this last night, while I was inexplicably sobbing over some Legos. I knew where he was. I knew who he was with, the other girl, who worships him and looks just like him. I know, rationally, logically, that it is perfectly acceptable to go minutes and hours and days without seeing or hearing from him. It simply had not happened yet. Then suddenly it had been five hours, eight hours, ten hours, and I couldn't breathe and I couldn't breathe and I was staring, staring at the Legos, willing them to fly, fly to your Lego brothers, the ones that she is playing with right now, and reconnoiter and return and report that he is not reconsidering, that he is not sitting there with the phone in his hand wondering if a text message would be more merciful, that he is actually passed out on his floor while his daughter plays with her toys around him because he works and has her and is tired, and that this is perfectly normal. But what happened instead is that I started sobbing. Because the Legos let me down. They let me down, man, they did not report what I wanted to hear. They reported babysitters and clubs and girls he has known since grade school, and Friday night and alcohol and forgetfulness. I am pleased to report that you have gone insane. Thank you, Lego Chewbacca. Dismissed.
And I told him this, on some day other than today, when I was not in the process of opening communication with plastic men. I told him that I was probably not ready. He said No, probably not, but then we will never be ready, will we, and we have to do our best from where we are. Which was the best. Right then, where he was, was a very good place to be. And I know that he does it too, which makes me feel both better and worse. It makes me feel better because I know he understands, but it stabs me in the neck because I know how that feels and I know that sometimes your brain tells you it is better to get rid of what is making you feel that way. And I do not want to be gotten rid of. And I do not want to be getting rid of anything. I want to NOT GO INSANE. And it's so simple! Just don't! Just don't do it. Don't think about it. Don't chew on it. See what's there, right there, you saw it he put put it right there where everyone could see, this is what's there and what's there is good. What he says is good. Fuck those Lego guys, man, what the hell do they know they have lived their whole life in a box with no head. He is fine and you are fine and even if at some point it is not fine it is certainly fine right now, and he will call and he will email and he will show up tonight and wonder why your eyes are puffy when you do not have allergies but will still tell you how cute you are. And you will believe it.
I will completely believe it and will not even be quietly saying to myself (anything). And a few days later we will do it again. And a few days after that, we will do it again. Who knows. It could happen. The other day I got snowed on out of a clear blue sky. This morning my paper boy managed to miss that puddle. Maybe it really is my turn.
It has been a month. Has it been a month? Yes, a month, and last night it occured to me that if I do not stop it right now, it will probably continue. At the rate it's going now, given where I am in the space of a month, it will be exponentially worse by this time next month. I can't even think beyond that. I'm trying not to think beyond that, and am doing a really good job so far. Because if I think about that then it will occur to me, really, how stupid I am.
I am not at all ready. At all. I discovered this last night, while I was inexplicably sobbing over some Legos. I knew where he was. I knew who he was with, the other girl, who worships him and looks just like him. I know, rationally, logically, that it is perfectly acceptable to go minutes and hours and days without seeing or hearing from him. It simply had not happened yet. Then suddenly it had been five hours, eight hours, ten hours, and I couldn't breathe and I couldn't breathe and I was staring, staring at the Legos, willing them to fly, fly to your Lego brothers, the ones that she is playing with right now, and reconnoiter and return and report that he is not reconsidering, that he is not sitting there with the phone in his hand wondering if a text message would be more merciful, that he is actually passed out on his floor while his daughter plays with her toys around him because he works and has her and is tired, and that this is perfectly normal. But what happened instead is that I started sobbing. Because the Legos let me down. They let me down, man, they did not report what I wanted to hear. They reported babysitters and clubs and girls he has known since grade school, and Friday night and alcohol and forgetfulness. I am pleased to report that you have gone insane. Thank you, Lego Chewbacca. Dismissed.
And I told him this, on some day other than today, when I was not in the process of opening communication with plastic men. I told him that I was probably not ready. He said No, probably not, but then we will never be ready, will we, and we have to do our best from where we are. Which was the best. Right then, where he was, was a very good place to be. And I know that he does it too, which makes me feel both better and worse. It makes me feel better because I know he understands, but it stabs me in the neck because I know how that feels and I know that sometimes your brain tells you it is better to get rid of what is making you feel that way. And I do not want to be gotten rid of. And I do not want to be getting rid of anything. I want to NOT GO INSANE. And it's so simple! Just don't! Just don't do it. Don't think about it. Don't chew on it. See what's there, right there, you saw it he put put it right there where everyone could see, this is what's there and what's there is good. What he says is good. Fuck those Lego guys, man, what the hell do they know they have lived their whole life in a box with no head. He is fine and you are fine and even if at some point it is not fine it is certainly fine right now, and he will call and he will email and he will show up tonight and wonder why your eyes are puffy when you do not have allergies but will still tell you how cute you are. And you will believe it.
I will completely believe it and will not even be quietly saying to myself (anything). And a few days later we will do it again. And a few days after that, we will do it again. Who knows. It could happen. The other day I got snowed on out of a clear blue sky. This morning my paper boy managed to miss that puddle. Maybe it really is my turn.
posted by machine central at 8:51 AM
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