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That orange cat had woken her up twice, but she couldn't sleep in the other room to catch up because she didn't want to spoil the sanctity of the clean sheets. Today was torpor. She was going to go out in public and try and make friends. Then, she'd head to the grocery store - a rare night run. Instead of an unsuccessful nap, she decided to brew some tea.
She realized today that both of your fathers were artists. It's a lot of coincidences in this array. She was so tired. The Norfolk pine was so sad. All of it was so boring.
Every time she looked at the plant, she wanted to cut/break branches off and just have it shit or get off the pot as far as dying. So, she overwaters her plants. So, it's the first time in her life she's been such a terrible steward. Whatever. The only time she ever even got into having more than a token houseplant was when she lived with #2 because she thought it would be good for him, but then of course she had to take over. Everything was her responsibility that would traditionally fall to the gendered role of wife. It bored the fuck out of her as you know. She drank and poofed and blew the house down.
Today, was the first day she kind of had that thought that she had had with Mark: if everything - butterfly-effect-style - hadn't gone exactly the way it had, she would not be where she is now.
The war of hope vs. protecting it.
Who would win?
She never could get over Henry Miller mocking hope. That dude could probably be a bastard like many. She was accustomed to the thoughts flowing from her fingers like scalding supernovas, yet as she's bemoaned - it had not been a case of "wow, that impressed me" in months. Well, she could name it - since she met him.
Not a perfect person
not an unflawed being
rather someone who made her feel like introducing him to all the people she loved.
It was strange. The December afore the July that wrecked her was the FIRST time she had thought "I could take him to Wilmington. If he's capable of letting loose at this wedding and dancing like a crazed Yeti, it's proof he CAN get that stick out of his ass."
She sometimes forgot that he beat her and broke something off in her by doing so. It was such a shame cave for her. It would be great to finally really forgive herself. She was getting better. This new one, she was dreading the mother fuck out of telling him things she never explicitly told #2.
She was truly terrified. How does one say "oh, I spent about a year or two in exile while I questioned my very existence and clung to life by a habit. I only met you because I was so low that I took advice to go searching for a distracting man. And I'm fucking crazy - like real life bonkers, and I've really really tried to grapple with it and now hopefully I'll keep taking the safety pills and not rage on you when I find out something that breaks my entire paradigm. And if you know me long enough, I'm afraid I really will experience a wild ride like I seem to do every ten years, and I so hope that you can just treat it like I have epilepsy of the mind... and of course I expect you to run away now."
The tears coursed down her burning shame.
How dare she put herself out there?
But carrie fisher seemed cool to hang out with.
Perhaps it was possible in the dimmest sense that someone could actually love her in spite of her having loaded grenades and landmines.
She seemed ok when she was ok.
The only thing she could cling to was that #1
wasn't scared.
#1 would have stayed with her forever if she had let him.
External validation
you again.
It wasn't going to matter much. She wasn't going to hide it from anyone who she might possibly love. He didn't even know what an honor it was for her to accept that he must know . With #2, she had been flippant.
"look. I'm worried about marrying you because I'm crazy. I'm never going to be your mother, and I don't really believe that you could support us financially."
"I don't care. I'm working on myself so I won't be so needy, and I'll start trying to make money."
It's all fun and games until somebody gets an eye out.
She waited.
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