Thursday, December 29, 2011

What I mean to say is this.


**This is not what I think you might think it is. Okay, actually, that's a lie: Most likely, it's exactly what you think it is, probably. It's longer than the entire last century, and if you want to read only part of it, read the last paragraph + last little line.**

Listen to me. Stop saying that it's fine, because it's so not fine. Don't tell me to "stop acting like something is wrong." Don't say that "nothing is wrong." Something is wrong here, bud, and it's not okay with me. I'd like to sit down and have this discussion with you, but NO. NO. Apparently miracles only happen once (or three times) with you. Either way, I've maxed out. Maximum miracles. 

I just want your forgiveness. I'm not asking you to do anything, for heavens sake, this is easier than ever doing anything. Forgiveness isn't any sort of chore, I don't think. I just want us back to normal. I mean, I don't want us back to normal (or maybe I do?), but it's my back-up choice. 

And I'm sorry, okay? I'm SORRY FOR EVERYTHING. Remember? I'M SORRY FOR EVERYTHING. I want to scribble that all over my underwear. I'd like that to bleed into my skin. I'm sorry for being obnoxious and overwhelming, yeah, and I'm sorry for any other craziness, because that was all my fault (she can't be corralled; I forget how blunt she is), but I'm mostly sorry for not loving you (?) all the times that I should've. I'm sorry. I would've loved to spend all those minutes with you, but I suck sometimes, don't I? (Don't answer that.)

It's stupid because you photograph like you sometimes kiss: not so well. It's stupid because you photograph like you kiss: awesome. 

And I'm mad because I don't want to be the only one apologizing here. You suck a lot, too. You've been overwhelming, too. And you haven't loved me when you should've, buddy -- don't tell me you've forgotten the entire skinnyhipstergirlfriend episode. 

And let's discuss something else: You kissed me, let's not forget about that. It was you kissing me first. Every time. 

I never kissed you first, too much of a liability. 

It was, like, five minutes between lifetimes. Were you lying or just trying to convince yourself? I remember what you said, August 18, and I don't know what that means anymore. Were you lying or just trying to convince yourself? 

And, ag, stop telling a different story than I am, would you? I'm telling the truth, and I'm telling it objectively, so stop making me look bad. 

You've sucked more than I've sucked, and I'm the one who's dealing with that. You sucked on my birthday (it was my BIRTHDAY, for heavens sake), and you sucked a whole lot when you said, "We need to talk; you're going to be mad," but I wasn't even mad about it until you totally screwed up right before wish day.

I understand that this is not one sided, but... But I wouldn't care if... If I didn't care. And I do. I care about you. (I hope that isn't one sided.) 

I like your hair best when it's long, like it isn't right now, and that's a relief, because I can't wear my kissing sweater for kissing anymore. 

I'm just frustrated because I actually thought we were doing better this time. I thought we were making progress, but YOU'RE THE SAME. You're the same and you're like, "Stop acting like something's wrong," but you know what? No. I won't stop acting like something wrong, because I refuse to lie anymore. SOMETHING IS WRONG.

I'd be lying, flat-out lying, if I said that I harbor zero feelings for you at this point (though I don't even know what I'm feeling sometimes), but right now I need normality. I ache for it. 

Maybe we could try this: Rewind one year. Pause. Select. No, I don't want to erase what happened, I'd love to keep the memories, but now that it's so... different (?), I would just like to adopt some version of the way we were before it changed. 

I know what's going on, love, but I have to admit that I just don't care sometimes -- Okay, what I mean, what I'm getting at, what I meant to say is that I care, of course I care, but I don't really know what I mean anymore. I want you, but I also don't. I miss you, but I also don't. There's no more underlying meaning when I talk to you, but I still talk you, but it might just be out of habit.

I don't mean to sound angry or bitter or critical or hateful or angsty, because I'm not. I'm really not. I'm proud of the left-over lipstick around the rim of my cup and I'm proud that I dragged myself out of bed so early this morning. And you? You're wonderful. Lots of things remind me of you, do you know? And I regard them as good things, because you're a good thing. You're really, really lovely, especially when you're not trying, which is perfect, because I don't think that you've ever once in your entire existence tried to be something that you are not.

Don't leave yet, yeah? I'm not mad anymore.

"Standing in tadasana without apology": 7:27 am, finishing in off-key sanskrit.
All my love,

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