that is what everybody says. They tell you you dodged a bullet. If the all-punk only-punk CD collection (CDs!) didn't tell you what you needed to know I can't help you. Well, it's over, and there is always an infuriating quality in the air. You want them to KNOW it's them, not you. You want them to KNOW that they will be single forever or with an inflatable doll only. Cuz they are terrified of intimacy, with a real person, with thornes in their side and big bushes. Those imperfect, terrifying living beings with full hearts.
You knew everything you needed to know. But you were patient. You protected his ego. When you sat next to him at the comedy show you hated the way he laughed. you said nothing. You wanted him to have a good birthday, so you fucked him in a public hot tub. When you said u were too hot and put back on your bikini you weren't too hot. You felt nasty. At this guy who is not receptive to you. Who doesn't adore your little quirks or memorize your nervous ticks. He is too nervous. Can't take the control away from keeping up the facade of this guy who has everything together. He's solid, responsible, knows what he wants in life. Adventurous, punk rock you might say. If u believed for a goddamn second the surface he shows the world.
Yet it's you in the end who he has to race to the finish line. It's to you he has to announce that your dog can't sleep in his bed, then he has to vaccuum the next day, it's to you he announces "it's just not working for me" with that grimace he makes, wistful, wants you to look everywhere but on the inside of him. The love wasn't there, quoi. Maybe if it were someone else. Who knows. It couldn't have been someone else. You are the bullet I am dodging yet again. It's to you who he announces "je me suis retracte...depuis une semaine..." Fuck. This. Guy.
I was in the show after my blue day-- Monday-- and I thought, wouldn't it be cool if I can expediate all this shit and just be over it, NOW, there is nothing graceful about an extended mourning period over an ex with whom it didn't work once, then a stupid dating phase which also bombed... Ok, graceful perhaps, but unnecessary. I tried to hold onto those little snippets of myself which feel that you know, I am worthy of an emotionally vulnerable guy. Who really tries to open himself. Otherwise it's all facade. All of those zebra print towels and vegetable cutting boards and makeup cases as gifts,it's all the surface. Because he can't for a second actually LOOK at the person I am. C'est toi qui aime le zebre. Not me. But that would have required you to look deep inside me, which would endanger you to be really seen, deeply, for who you are, beyond the zebra and polka dots and ramones paraphernalia. All his generosity of paying for meals and movie tickets and whatever doesn't hold a candle flame to the real emotional investment people make when they fall in love. They risk everything. Their hearts are open. It's the biggest wager u make in your life, and the most rewarding...
I know for sure that I am worthy of that and I can somehow see it coming to me. Because these experiences have ignited this openness. I don't wanna be 42 and glooming around my 1 bedroom apartment with immaculate decor. Voila quoi.
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