Requiem for the Living

early evening. it gets very dark by six p.m. in the winter.
just finished washing the dishes and putting some into the dishwasher.
n. said be careful not to rub too hard or the teflon would come off.
he was upset when i used a fork to scrape food residue on the bottom of a pot.
a. is on the phone constantly on the phone he hated customer service of a major wireless provider i shall not name (but you all know which one that is.)

he was on the phone with them yesterday too when i was in the er
a. on the cab to hospital, “what if you are pregnant?”
me, “well fuck. decision’s mine.”
a.,”I’m anti-abortion.”
talking like a true ex-republican, the love of my life.

the doctor was a bit too rough,
the nurse told me i was a big girl doing big girl thing i had to deal with the consequences.
shit, i thought, this was still good, i thought i was losing my baby. our baby.
there was no baby, they said.
maybe it was gone, i thought.
a. and i could not have been happier
and more disappointed.

he could not leave this place because of
his dog. told me maybe i should move in.
i hate that dog because it jumps onto our bed at night
trying to separate us. it has huge attachment and jealousy issues
just like i do. so i guess i could be sympathetic, but good god jesus,
it was watching us making love, having sex, fucking
and only turning away whenever i gave him a blow job.
what is the deal with that dog?

a. has two people he considers angels,
m. and g.
beautiful people – mates of his soul.
me, he sees me as a human being,
told me even his dog was more beautiful
than me, that he was really careful with his words
but i was the one who thought we had something called a
then i got upset he was not in the same
relationship i thought we were in.
why would someone tell me he loved me wanted to marry me spend the rest of my life with me fuck the shit out of me without protection
but not admitting we are in a relationship
and that he is in a soul-to-soul connection with his angel from l.a.
gorgeous woman who wants to become a nun
who shares everything in common with him
who cannot really be friends with him but
probably cannot date him because she has expectations he can never fulfill.
yet he thinks she is a firm believer in him,
told me i made him feel depreciated,
that i only appreciated him because he was

well shit, he was never mine
can’t he see that after all that is known about him his angel decided to maintain an out-of-a-novel friendship while i decided to stay with him?
can’t he see what’s real and what’s not? i guess not;
my man does not belong to the real world.
i was not either, but i was beaten almost to death by reality,
i forgot how it felt to be me,
how it felt to want something just for myself regardless of the other people, beloved or not, no matter whom.
marry me, i asked. he said yes, then “i need to think about it”, then “no no no…”
you know why? because he will only do so if he will never ever have a chance at romance with his angel.
who first thought she was so cool there was no romance ever.
then when he told her he was marrying me in a few days, she said
she was wrong that they could behave as friends and she was sorry
but she was truly wishing we would be happy.

my love, my purest love,
i just want to make sure for the rest of my life i could
try my best to make you happy, and hopefully you will be.
why do i feel so obligated?
is it because one night you had me in your arms, looking deep into my lost heart, touching my lips so softly, telling me you
loved me?
is it because i believe my life should end right here so a new one – including you and probably our miracle children and who knows who else – could begin. so i do not have to live mine any more.
it has never been mine anyways, but i just think,
maybe having you will make it a little less cold less lonely less uneventful.
and maybe i really do love you more than anybody else in this world.
maybe i want to die with you.
maybe the moment i am on my death bed – if i even have a bed then – you will fully realize how much i have loved you all my life.
maybe i will cry whenever you make a scene out of nothing, slam the door shut, and go out for a while doing your things, and i will cry and cry as i clean the dishes and do the laundry and try to calm down my hysterical babies,
and you will come home and go straight to bed without brushing your teeth and starting to snore loudly,
and the next morning everything would be okay.
maybe you will hold me close every now and then
and i will remember why things happen the way they do
why my everlasting unhappiness is joyful
from moment to moment
between the times I try to hold on to something
something about life
to hell with finding a meaning in living,
i am already so very tired.

but back to reality
i need to figure out what’s up for dinner




this is a story I’m writing.
I just find more comfort in this form rather than prose.
for now.
written 17 December 2010

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