Contrast

It's always good to know that someone would rather snipe and take potshots at you, assuming all the while that you're not looking, than be nice and wish you on the one day that they ought to be nice. 


"I got nine lives, cats' eyes,
 Using every one of them and running wild."

Unconditional

You could say we're neighbours. 

In truth, I live around the corner from his place. I'm not sure when he moved in, but I pretty much grew up in the neighbourhood, and it's not likely that I didn't chance upon him all these years.

I first saw him in the park. It was one of those summer evenings. I was out for some air, like everyone else. Little children playing with bubbles and balloons. Their parents hurrying and worrying around. Kids love me. They're always walking up to me. Their parents seem a little more guarded, sometimes hostile. Being agreeable in the face of hostility wears me out quickly. 

That's when I saw him. He was sitting on a bench. I don't normally walk up to single men in the park, but there was something about him. I'd like to say it was his eyes, but sharp as my vision is, I can hardly tell hazel from azure at a hundred paces. 

He did have nice eyes though. 

He got up and started walking away as I drew closer. So I just walked right along, behind him. 

We fell in step soon enough. He looked at me with a quizzical smile. And he did have nice eyes. I followed him home without exchanging a word. His neighbour saw us enter together, and she gave me the stink eye. He smiled it off and she smiled back at him. Maybe she's used to it. Maybe he's the sort of guy.

He watched some television and I had a bite to eat. I only went to bed with him a week later, when I felt comfortable enough. I'm not that kind of girl.

I saw him a few days later in the park. With a woman. My heart broke. They went home together. I followed, skulking in what I thought was an unobtrusive manner. Who was I kidding? He saw me, and smiled at me. She gave me a look of undisguised hostility. 

I went back to his place a week later. With him. The woman was away. No words were exchanged. I spent the night there, and left just after dawn. 

Maybe this is what we need. We don't have much to say to each other. It's more like companionship. I know we'll never be together. She won't let it happen. Though if she's all that, I wonder why he needs me. 

I know he loves me, though. I can see it in his eyes. Every time, before we drift off to sleep.

He rubs my belly, and nuzzles me, and calls me his girl. And then he looks at me with those eyes. 

And then I purr and wag my tail. 

Bliss.

Two Track Mind

My brain is currently occupied with two things. One should hopefully get me a bit of money, or at least some intellectual bragging rights. The other is pure fictional fantasy (for now anyway), but it involves intricate planning. Like playing a long drawn out game. 

Few feelings come close to that of my brain working. It's the mental equivalent of a high-intensity workout. Unlike a maths exam, which is the equivalent of running a marathon in high heels. 

Not that I've ever run a marathon.


"...mack and slap back the whack..."

Golden

It's funny what silence says to you. About others. And about yourself.


"...living in a powder keg and giving off sparks..."

Where I now start using titles

To recap my summer...

I never heard back from a 'sure thing' internship. 

I went mad.

I flew across half the world to surprise a bunch of people. All were surprised. Some were happy.

I dropped the ball somewhere. Unfortunately, my heart was in there too, and it shattered. I'm still sweeping up the pieces, but I can't seem to find them all.

I got fat. 

I rediscovered the joy of eating Indian food. And there is a lot of joy in that.

I got to drive. 

I applied to another internship. They responded, but too late. 

I came home expecting to find somethings, understand, and maybe consolidate the goings on in my life. Instead, I've come undone and I haven't the faintest clue of what's going on. I don't think it's a particularly healthy way to be at my ripe age, but then I'm always wrong, so maybe I'm wrong about this too. Silver lining much?

Somewhere I think there's a disconnect in the way I think - between what I feel I deserve, and what I actually deserve. I suspect I view myself with rose-tinted glasses, complete with a halo around my large head. 

I'm horrible at understanding people, and it is always my undoing. It is particularly, and heart-rendingly ironic that I can claim to care for someone and be so caught up in 'doing the right thing' that I don't actually do what is needed. And evidently over the last 10 years, I haven't learnt much.

I'm broke. This will be a year of no alcohol - not that I drink that much - and very little luxury. By luxury, of course, I mean chocolates.

At least I won't be fat anymore. 


"Can't ever keep from falling apart
At the seams..."

Some things are random. Impulses triggered by non-logical, unrelated events or chains of events. 

Like that feeling of guilt you get when you're trying to sleep at 6 am. When you remember that you've hurt someone you truly cared for and you can't really fix it.

Then you begin to wonder if you can ever fix it. Or whether it's just going to be some karmic debt. And whether you'll have to always watch over your shoulder and wonder, when something bad happens, whether it is retribution. 

Then you start to justify your actions. I didn't mean it. It was deserved. We both made mistakes. It's not my burden alone. I was hurt first. 

Then you remember how you cried for a week. At night. In the day. When you thought no one could hear, so you could sob. Great, racking sobs that make that space between your lungs and your stomach feel like it's empty, and being sucked out. 

Maybe that's where your soul is.

Then you remember maybe you cried because you felt dirty. Like you'd hurt something pure. The pure love that you had for someone, and now you've muddied it with dirty footprints. Stomped all over it. That feeling of guilt. Of having destroyed something sacred. Because it doesn't matter whose fault it is, when you both cry and neither of you can fix it.

Then you go back to your life, and your thoughts, and your attempts to sleep. 



"Because I know no other way"