The Day at the Library
So I was rummaging through my feeling library and a strange thing happened. A few catalogs, out of the blue, started falling on my head, like over sized rain drops, only harder. more like Hail. So I grabbed a few:
Neglect, how did you get in here? Nonsense, He pays plenty of attention to me
OW! What the...lying to myself? Give me a break! Poppey cock!
Hurt. Now what could I possibly be hurt about? Its not secrecy, honestly, he just isn't a wordy person. If I ask it he'll tell me...
una...UNAPPRECIATED? Now, listen here, you go right back to where you came from, I am not listening to this bollocks!
and so I tried cramming all these catalogs of my feelings back to whence they came from but they just kept teetering back onto my head and face, slipping from my grasp to fall wide open on the ground, their contents freshly written and staring bold faced in my direction. And so I kneeled down to read their accounts.
The time I said I feel unloved and he reassuring me that I was indeed unloved.
Or how bout the time where he said you should date other people
Or the comment about how he could put effort into the relationship, but he doesn't care enough to.
And all of a sudden I felt jarred into awareness of this sensation. Had I really put all these moments, all these emotions into the back of my mind?Here they were spilling out by the volumes.
Boink
And this one read FUTILE. And that mad me feel....
Boink, Boink, Boink
Sorrow, confused, alone.
I looked around and began to notice that I was being surrounded, trapped almost, by volumes of feelings that I had never expressed. I started to panic like, oh shit, what do I do, and they just kept falling, more and more feelings gone unexpressed, locked up neatly once, but now all plunging down on me, a hail storm of wants and needs. So I cried. I sat in the middle of my library and cried
wish wash....wish wash....
plunk...plunk...drip...drip...slp...slp....
silence. Like drowning. Drowning in a sea of sorrow, only not so sorrowful anymore.
And I felt lighter. So much so that I began to float.
gasp. air. Breath. Breath.
Alright, I said. You win. I admit, you are here. I will tell him in the morning. Then suddenly the room dried and the catalogs floated neatly on top of one another. And I walked out.
'twas a strange day, but oddly reassuring.
Neglect, how did you get in here? Nonsense, He pays plenty of attention to me
OW! What the...lying to myself? Give me a break! Poppey cock!
Hurt. Now what could I possibly be hurt about? Its not secrecy, honestly, he just isn't a wordy person. If I ask it he'll tell me...
una...UNAPPRECIATED? Now, listen here, you go right back to where you came from, I am not listening to this bollocks!
and so I tried cramming all these catalogs of my feelings back to whence they came from but they just kept teetering back onto my head and face, slipping from my grasp to fall wide open on the ground, their contents freshly written and staring bold faced in my direction. And so I kneeled down to read their accounts.
The time I said I feel unloved and he reassuring me that I was indeed unloved.
Or how bout the time where he said you should date other people
Or the comment about how he could put effort into the relationship, but he doesn't care enough to.
And all of a sudden I felt jarred into awareness of this sensation. Had I really put all these moments, all these emotions into the back of my mind?Here they were spilling out by the volumes.
Boink
And this one read FUTILE. And that mad me feel....
Boink, Boink, Boink
Sorrow, confused, alone.
I looked around and began to notice that I was being surrounded, trapped almost, by volumes of feelings that I had never expressed. I started to panic like, oh shit, what do I do, and they just kept falling, more and more feelings gone unexpressed, locked up neatly once, but now all plunging down on me, a hail storm of wants and needs. So I cried. I sat in the middle of my library and cried
wish wash....wish wash....
plunk...plunk...drip...drip...slp...slp....
silence. Like drowning. Drowning in a sea of sorrow, only not so sorrowful anymore.
And I felt lighter. So much so that I began to float.
gasp. air. Breath. Breath.
Alright, I said. You win. I admit, you are here. I will tell him in the morning. Then suddenly the room dried and the catalogs floated neatly on top of one another. And I walked out.
'twas a strange day, but oddly reassuring.