It’s one of those days again. Over and over again the water droplets comes down like knives thrown into the ground, rain without end, amen. I was scared to leave the house, he had to hold my hand. He looks apiece, his coat and hair and fingers all matched in one certain picture. I have never felt so much like I wanted to be someone else. I can’t help but wish I could explain to my lover why I feel robbed, how it is that something smashed. My heart was beaten over and over again at the wedding, until I returned home feeling tender and let down. Vows, pause, repeat, vows, not mine, but thiers and yours. It’s not a real party unless I come home the next day after breakfast with light in the sky, unless I come home the next day having fallen asleep on a couch or taken over a guestroom. I’m feeling like I need to be wanted more, like somehow I need attention paid to me. I’m not used to it, it took some deciphering to understand. Every letter of want was shifted one over, world war two in a minor key, singing blandly and tiny in a shallow mind. Since when was I concerned about being pretty without irony?
I didn’t make it to Sunday Tea today. Crying myself to sleep didn’t leave me in a state of mind that supplied motivation against the horrid hill that he lives atop of. Instead I went downtown and dealt with some things which needing sorting. One foot after the other, eyes glazed purchasing of pre-planned presents. (tikiking, I have your return package ready.) Someone stole my laundry that I left overnight in the washing room, but I haven’t replaced my towels yet. I woke early after going to bed late with my mouth full of iron blood, and warmth streaming down my face. The sun was just rising when I went to spit it out. Looking at myself in the mirror, I felt like cockroaches must be living under my skin in an alternate reality. Blank eyes in a pale uninteresting face smeared with crimson. There’s nothing behind those eyes, I thought to myself, I can’t find a person there.