(no subject)
"Remember that lady that was kinda off her rocker at the bar the other night?"
"Mmmhmm." She was super interested in us. Demanded to know "our story," something I've never attempted to relay to ANYONE and I wasn't about to try it for the first time on some kook in a bar in Brattleboro on a Wednesday night. So I passed the buck, and it was interesting to hear his version.
"She WAS right about one thing." Alright, I've looked up from the computer now, tilted my head, undivided my attention. "We should try to move somewhere. Six months, maybe a year."
The fuck? Part of batshit crazy's prattle had been about how he should focus more on making me happy. This was after she'd managed, after a whopping three minues of conversation, to hit upon the only issue in our relationship that makes me nervous. Since I am, as far as I can tell, a magnet for crazy people- I can attest to the fact that mixed up with all of the nuts and crackers can be some really godamn unnerving intuition. Bullsfuckingeye. Geography. Or specifically, Gavin's staunch attatchment to our zipcode. Not so much because there is one place specifically that I want to move to tomorrow (though there kinda is) but more that I don't really want to set limitations on my life like that at 25. And yeah man, Brattleboro IS boring and crazy expensive for what you get. Anyway, I digress. The fuck? Did he just...initiate a conversation about MOVING?
"She was right, it doesn't have to be the perfect move- we should just do it to do it." How many times have I said that in trying to have this very conversation? A conversation that has died probably hundreds of deaths- some slow and painful, others fiery. Of course he finally listens to a lush. It's like the lawnmower fight.
TBC...
"Mmmhmm." She was super interested in us. Demanded to know "our story," something I've never attempted to relay to ANYONE and I wasn't about to try it for the first time on some kook in a bar in Brattleboro on a Wednesday night. So I passed the buck, and it was interesting to hear his version.
"She WAS right about one thing." Alright, I've looked up from the computer now, tilted my head, undivided my attention. "We should try to move somewhere. Six months, maybe a year."
The fuck? Part of batshit crazy's prattle had been about how he should focus more on making me happy. This was after she'd managed, after a whopping three minues of conversation, to hit upon the only issue in our relationship that makes me nervous. Since I am, as far as I can tell, a magnet for crazy people- I can attest to the fact that mixed up with all of the nuts and crackers can be some really godamn unnerving intuition. Bullsfuckingeye. Geography. Or specifically, Gavin's staunch attatchment to our zipcode. Not so much because there is one place specifically that I want to move to tomorrow (though there kinda is) but more that I don't really want to set limitations on my life like that at 25. And yeah man, Brattleboro IS boring and crazy expensive for what you get. Anyway, I digress. The fuck? Did he just...initiate a conversation about MOVING?
"She was right, it doesn't have to be the perfect move- we should just do it to do it." How many times have I said that in trying to have this very conversation? A conversation that has died probably hundreds of deaths- some slow and painful, others fiery. Of course he finally listens to a lush. It's like the lawnmower fight.
TBC...