SOMETIMES I FEEL LIKE … I DON’T KNOW … LIKE I’VE BEEN LOCKED UP TIGHT, FOR A CENTURY OF LONELY NIGHTS, WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO RELEASE ME.
IT’S ALMOST LIKE MY BODY’S SAYING “LET’S GO” BUT MY HEART’S SAYING “NO.”
I could sit on that bench for hours.
I LOVE YOU.
HOW MUCH?
AS MUCH AS YOU LIKE GNAWING ON DEER LEGS.
THAT’S NOT ENOUGH.
AS MUCH AS AMERICA LOVES WHITEWASHING ITS HISTORY OF IMPERIALISM AND CONSTANTLY DENYING OR DOWNPLAYING THE INSTALLATION AND MILITARIZATION OF FOREIGN REGIMES SYMPATHETIC TO ITS FINANCIAL INTERESTS.
BETTER, BUT STILL NOT ENOUGH.
I LOVE YOU AS MUCH AS KANYE WEST LOVES LAUGHING AT HIS OWN PUNCHLINES IN HIS SONGS.
NOW YOU’RE JUST LYING. NOBODY LOVES ANYTHING THAT MUCH.
Of all time.
No. 72
Don’t say you want love.
Say you want the morning light through a painted-flecked window; say you want the distance and the ache that foretells it; say you want the autumn air always arriving that never arrives; a gust of wind scraping leaves along the pavement; hills rolling toward the sea; a forest clearing at twilight; say you want the inadequate glow of a lamp hidden behind a stack of books; a glance sufficient unto itself; a memory that comes suddenly; say you want to notice, in a tree you walk past every day, a nest exposed as the leaves fall away; say you want to learn the etymology of the word “leave” and that you want to apply that knowledge somehow (but how?); say you want the sea, the sea, always the sea; clouds lowering upon the day; a meander; a slow afternoon of conversation in a shadowy bar; say you want postcards and letters, that you want to write everything, to divest yourself of words in the hope that it leaves you feeling empty in a new way; say you want to give it all up, but keep clinging; say you want a narrow path and a mountain close and a mountain faraway; a pit to fall into; the smell of bread baking; say you want lists that never end; say you’ll settle for a landscape of words; maps over which to compose voyages; say, fuck it, I want to daydream.
Say you don’t want love.
THANK YOU, CAROL. I’M SO SORRY. THIS IS BEYOND EMBARRASSING. I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M CRYING IN PUBLIC. I JUST LOVED HER SO MUCH, YOU KNOW? I THOUGHT THE SUN ROSE AND SET ON THAT WOMAN. AND SHE JUST LEFT ME. SHE BASICALLY TOLD ME I WASN’T GOOD ENOUGH FOR HER, THAT I WASN’T GOING TO MAKE ANYTHING OF MYSELF.
AH, HELL. HERE COME THE WATERWORKS AGAIN. I’M SORRY. I CAN’T HELP IT. OH GOD, I KNOW YOU HAVE TO GET BACK TO WORK, AND I’VE TOTALLY WASTED YOUR LUNCH BREAK WITH MY SOB STORY. I JUST NEEDED TO TALK TO SOMEONE.
AND NOW EVERYONE IN MCDONALDS IS STARING AT ME AGAIN. IT’S LIKE NOBODY’S EVER SEEN A MAN CRY BEFORE.
TAKE A PICTURE IT’LL LAST LONGER! AND HEY, NICE SWEATPANTS! HAVE ANOTHER 5000 CLORIE LUNCH AND A HEART ATTACK, PRICKS!
SHE WON’T EVEN ANSWER MY EMAILS, CAROL. IT’S LIKE SHE’S DECIDED TO ERASE ME.
*hug* We’ve all been there.
