Crazy-making wine-induced blogging FTW.
I have so many thoughts, all wrapped up neat and tucked under my arms, and the longer I keep them squirreled away, the harder it is to keep holding them. Rather like deciding you don't need a cart at the grocery store, but not realizing you really did need a cart, and you're holding about four too many items, 'till you're waiting in the queue to pay and you keep dropping things...
Sometimes I feel as though I'm being punished for never learning any life lessons. Like that episode of that TV show where the day keeps repeating. Only instead of my day looping over and over again, it's my life.
I have this memory, of how, as a child, on those warm, perfect Southern California summer nights at my grandmothers house (that make me feel like I grew up in the late fifties), bathed in that glow of remembered childhood contentment, we would play croquet in the dark. Just after dusk, with the porch light on, the wickets were invisible from one side, but perfectly clear from the other. I feel like it's a metaphor for… Well. Everything. All I have to do is keep playing, and when I turn around, I'll be able to see everything I couldn't before.
I am so terribly lonely sometimes. My life is a constant +30xp, but -50hp.
I thought I'd become used to the fact that I will never feel the same way about someone as they feel about me. Ever. But apparently this is not so.
[Side note: today's episode is power-fueled by: A bad mood and half a bottle of cheap red wine.]
A brief interlude, so that I may write a letter.
To whom it may concern,
Fuck you.
Sincerely,
Whitney.
You know what they say…"Better living through the fermentation of grapes, hops, et al."* And so I sit, and drown my sorrows, because -let's face it- alcohol makes you feel better about being silly and emotional and horny. And makes it easier to be all of the above.
There are few people who really know me. This is a lonely state of being, but also one that frees me. I have no ties, to anyone. A fresh start, anytime I care to cash in my chips. I could, if I weren't such a lazy bastard, get up and go anywhere, at any time. Because no one has yet touched me so deeply as to keep me from leaving.
There are people out there who might have had the ability, but chose to be dumb and not exercise it. There are also people who would have loved to, had I decided I wanted to give them the chance. But never has this occurred at once with both me and said other person.
I have only ever had one true unrequited love, and -truth be told- it's only because I was too young and silly then, to have let it go, and am even sillier now, to not have let it go.
But I hold onto everything.
And so, I've learned my lesson, for now. Don't joke about serial murderers, especially the ones who sneak in when you least expect it and gut you like a sturgeon. Don't be an ass. Listen to people when they flirt with you. You don't need to be lonely. So, I will be nice today. Unless this kills me, or it hurts me deeply, or someone sneaks in with a scalpel and removes my entrails. Then I will be a grumpy bitch. And don't you forget it.
*They don't say that.