Ljidol topic 2 (wrote this years ago)
I get out the take home container of my half eaten burger and fries from the day before. It is to be my lunch. I walk away for a moment only to come back and find him eating it. Standing there, right at the kitchen counter. Right there in front of me. Peeling the bun off and dropping it back in the container. And eating my onion ring and bacon topped, right out of the fridge, half a burger. My half a burger. My lunch.
A thought comes to me. I have nothing that is mine. And that thought stays with me, takes hold of me. I have nothing that is mine.
It's not that this one thing, this one burger matters. It's one thing of many. Of many nights, of years of nights, of me talking to myself. My questions unanswered, my jokes un-laughed at, my thoughts unheard, my needs ignored. The lure of his computer, of email, of facebook, of the onions fake news videos. Their presence speaking louder than my own.
And when my day is over. When work is over. When cooking and washing dishes is over. And putting our little one to bed is over. When all I want to do is sit down. Just sit down and not do anything but watch something mindless on tv. Even that is not my own.
"Could you make me some oatmeal?"
"You know how to make it."
"You make it better than me, you know I'll just mess it up."
And I know it's true. He probably will mess it up. So I try to show him how. But he's not paying attention. I know he is just going to ask me to make it again tomorrow. And it's such a little thing, but yet it is too much. It is too many things. Standing in the kitchen watching the milk go round and round in the microwave, it hits me. I am fading into the background. I have let myself fade into the background.
I have nothing that is mine.
And I hold onto that thought. I hold onto that thought like it defines my very existence. Like if I hold onto it tight enough. If I repeat it often enough. Shout it loud enough. It will save me. It will take me home.
But it won't. What I realize tonight is, it won't. It won't take me home. It will only, it has only ever, taken me further and further away from here.
And as another day ends, after dinner and putting the little one to bed. We are on the couch. Together but apart, as usual. Electronic devices in front of us. The tv on. Until. Until I make a decision.
Sometimes it doesn't matter how you got to where you are, all that matters is what you're going to do to get back. Sometimes you need to build a new path over the broken one. Sometimes you need to put everything else away and be the bridge that you need.
I turn my ipad off. I turn my ipad off and snuggle up next to him. And he puts his arm around me.
I look over and see our cats. The big one trying to clean the little one. The little one trying to stop the big one. And I start voicing the little one, "Stop licking me, I can do it myself!"
And he starts voicing the big one, "But I do it better, look I can even reach your ears for you."
"Bet you can't clean me with my feet in your face!"
"Ha Ha your feet are no match for me, I am a cleaning master!"
"No biting my feet, that's not fair!"
"It's the only way to get them clean!"
And we are laughing. We are laughing together.
We just had to remember how.
A thought comes to me. I have nothing that is mine. And that thought stays with me, takes hold of me. I have nothing that is mine.
It's not that this one thing, this one burger matters. It's one thing of many. Of many nights, of years of nights, of me talking to myself. My questions unanswered, my jokes un-laughed at, my thoughts unheard, my needs ignored. The lure of his computer, of email, of facebook, of the onions fake news videos. Their presence speaking louder than my own.
And when my day is over. When work is over. When cooking and washing dishes is over. And putting our little one to bed is over. When all I want to do is sit down. Just sit down and not do anything but watch something mindless on tv. Even that is not my own.
"Could you make me some oatmeal?"
"You know how to make it."
"You make it better than me, you know I'll just mess it up."
And I know it's true. He probably will mess it up. So I try to show him how. But he's not paying attention. I know he is just going to ask me to make it again tomorrow. And it's such a little thing, but yet it is too much. It is too many things. Standing in the kitchen watching the milk go round and round in the microwave, it hits me. I am fading into the background. I have let myself fade into the background.
I have nothing that is mine.
And I hold onto that thought. I hold onto that thought like it defines my very existence. Like if I hold onto it tight enough. If I repeat it often enough. Shout it loud enough. It will save me. It will take me home.
But it won't. What I realize tonight is, it won't. It won't take me home. It will only, it has only ever, taken me further and further away from here.
And as another day ends, after dinner and putting the little one to bed. We are on the couch. Together but apart, as usual. Electronic devices in front of us. The tv on. Until. Until I make a decision.
Sometimes it doesn't matter how you got to where you are, all that matters is what you're going to do to get back. Sometimes you need to build a new path over the broken one. Sometimes you need to put everything else away and be the bridge that you need.
I turn my ipad off. I turn my ipad off and snuggle up next to him. And he puts his arm around me.
I look over and see our cats. The big one trying to clean the little one. The little one trying to stop the big one. And I start voicing the little one, "Stop licking me, I can do it myself!"
And he starts voicing the big one, "But I do it better, look I can even reach your ears for you."
"Bet you can't clean me with my feet in your face!"
"Ha Ha your feet are no match for me, I am a cleaning master!"
"No biting my feet, that's not fair!"
"It's the only way to get them clean!"
And we are laughing. We are laughing together.
We just had to remember how.