isn't that a nice thought? to wake up, and to shine. rising, and all shiny...
I am shiny, but I've seen a murder today. as I was swimming about bicycles on my way over here, I realized that if I looked the way I felt, I would be covered in blood, and there would be a sizable machete lodged in my skull. in the somewhat immortal words of angela chase, and it's not exact, "if we all just did what we felt / said what we were thinking, the world would grind to a halt."
it would have found me walking into caffe vita this morning in those bloody clothes - people would have stopped me long before I made it here though, to make sure I was okay. they'd think it was a halloween costume at first, until they realized they could see pieces of my head, and they'd sit me down and call an ambulance. there would be no transatlanticism on my drive, no golden sunlight glinting off of hard-working cranes on my way down the hill, no moments paused in front of the newspaper box to read another story about the economy. no. the world would would have, in fact, ground to a halt.
there's no editing here. I'm taking the link to this off my myspace, I doubt faraway people take the time to bookmark it besides like, gale, or kimmy, or laura... I woke up this morning to the phone ringing from a call from raf. actually, I woke up to a picture of him and his new girlfriend on myspace, after which I promptly texted him to tell him I was shutting off the cellphone if we didn't take care of it today - I thought I transferred it to him a while ago, but the liability isn't all out of my name, and it's late, and I want nothing else to do with it, or him, or anything. I'm tired of picking it back up. I want to start to heal. and the scab keeps getting torn off, and I'm tired of all the blood... I'm so tired. I'd rather have a scar. so he calls, we make a plan for 1:00 my time (because we have to do a conference call to take care of it with the people at t-mobile) and then a discussion starts about bills. I have them. he hasn't paid any. that's the backdrop. the reality is, I was stupid enough to whip out my credit card on too many occasions, and I've put myself here, asking him to help pay off which is rightly part his. and I know, I think I'd like to know, if he had some money that he'd cover what he could, but I think he's been having some health problems and work was inconsistent for a while - point being, I'd like for him to take responsibility, and I know things have been a little rough - but you know what? things are rough. life is rough. every day leaves a scar, as rayanne says, life leaves a scar. so let's stop making empty promises and saying we're gonna and we will and we were about to - and let's just do it.
then the machete split my face in half.
apparently, since he doesn't have the ring, he doesn't feel the need to pay for it. and as he started to explain this to me, and I can tell when they're other people's lines with him, because they're too awkward and polished, and we're all so fucking transparent even thought we think we aren't - I hung up. I had to make it stop. in that moment, I understood my drunk aunt hanging up on me when I started talking to her about stealing my mom's jewelry when she was in hospice. I just couldn't hear it, not a second, I felt the wind up and the release, and I just shut the phone.
I sat there for a second.
I called back, and proceeded to make the analogy to him that if we went into some form of a joint venture that didn't work out, let's say, that we bought a car, and that car blew up and spewed fluid all out into the road, and died - that just because the car was sitting on my front lawn instead of his didn't mean that I should be the one to pay for it. I am, in fact, the asshole that gave him use of my credit, because I was trying to help his credit, and I accept full, embarrassing, shameful responsibility for that - but I feel that it's our endeavor, and our misfortune, and now our responsibility to cover.
except all of our debt is in my name. because I'm an asshole, and there's a big learning curve with this stuff, and now - well, I can finally say the lesson has been re-presented to me sufficiently, and that I don't ever have to do that again. even though he agreed to split the debts - including aforementioned ring - although I'll believe that when the checks start showing up.
and I want to smack him, and the people that are not saying anything about him dating. I want to call up his girlfriend and tell her about the conversation we had last week, where I was standing in front of all the shoe and boot polish at qfc, needing to call my father, reaching for my phone, realizing I couldn't, and bursting into tears, and dialing him before I could think twice about it for help. and I want to say awful, awful things, to tell her about how he said she's not me, and how she could never take my place, and how he shit on it and joked about it and how I sat there and said look, this girl is a hot second from changing her status to "in a relationship" and if you're not looking to replay the same fucking tape you've played with women since the day your mother kicked you out, you'd better pay attention - that, and the fact that this chick drinks, and how there's been times when you tasted alcohol on her lips (there's a whole chapter in the book) and how we just can't afford to fuck around with all of that.
I will take space to remit that there is no inherent danger in posting all of this on my blog, because she doesn't know where it is, nor do her friends, and besides, I think the title of it might be too much for her to spell correctly without giving up before she found the page.
so maybe I had to see a murder to let it die. like we need the cold and the rain to appreciate the sun, so that the sun doesn't become a bother. we need hurt and confusion to be aware and in touch with being quiet and free. we need to crawl before walking, and walk before running, and be engaged to people who fuck girls who came to your going away party ten minutes after your taillights faded out on the highway entrance on willow street and then jump into relationships while the body is still warm to the touch to find out how much better off we are alone, to see just how tangled up we were, to learn what we do not want by an abundance of just that - I have to be lodged under a tire to know I can get up and walk away.
I think this morning was the Universe kicking me out of my nest. and I'm totally okay with it. it doesn't matter if I'm okay with it or not, or if I'm ready for it or not, because it's happening. anger and hurt have shifted to crying, to breaking open, another layer I knew I needed to shed but I wasn't sure I had.
he is no longer my job, responsibility, or anything even vaguely like any of those words. the only person I have room to dedicate that much love, care, and work to is me. Me. nobody is going to do this for me. I mean, well, kristin and gloria help out A Lot, but like I stated in an earlier entry - the blind guy has to have the balls to leave his house.
hold on, kids. the storm is coming. I've got to buy myself some flowers. stat.
vvb
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