Monday, May 5, 2008

Bringing my Distaste for cleaning to new Heights and Fun with Idioms

I was doing fine today...Great even...relatively speaking. I actually got out of bed not too long after I woke up...went to Sainsburys with Liam and bought some stuffing my face food. Then we sat in the garden eating croissants and doing the crossword together...something that will never happen again. We discovered a baby birds' nest in a hole right above the back door and listened to the tiny baby voices every time a mama or a daddy bird flew into the hole. then we went to the park to play tennis. It's warm and pleasant...with a cool breeze. Then we decided to get some stuff for a cook out. Liam worked on his lesson, and I searched the interweb...I contimplated changing my status on Facebook...but the idea of that little broken heart appearing in the 'mini feed' terrified me.

My status has changed...and I'm terrified. I LOVEd being in a relationship. I LOVEd being in love.

So I went to the bathroom to clean it...because I had put it off for long enough. Liam came along and remarked that he would have done it...which was a lie...but whatever. And while I was scrubbing...and water was dripping down my bum-crack...I got more and more sad.

It comes every day...and every day I have to look forward to the next time it comes. That wave of reality that this is not my home and it will never be...regardless of my best efforts. It took a whole lot of courage for me to jump off the Midtown ship and Swim over to this London one. Except...I had a lot of encouragement from a certain someone that has fallen silent at this point.

Here's what I was thinking when I finally buried my face in my bleachy hands for my daily cry: I put all my damn eggs in one damn basket...and I thought it was okay...I thought it was my basket...but it wasn't my basket, it was his basket, and he doesn't want my fucking (had to be said) eggs (sometimes there is cause for obsene situations). SO....Here I am in this basket that I totally thought was mine...and I'm wrong...and I gotta get my eggs together and ship em back over-seas. And that makes me sad...and scared...and angry...and confused...Memphis is my home...but I've been in London basket for 6 months now...and this basket is very familiar to me now. It's scary to leave it. And Eggs are really fragile and difficult to transport...for the record.

Then I feel my age. I KNOW...I'm NOT old...but sometimes I feel it. I it okay to move away from home after I turn thirty? Is it okay to change towns again...or was this my last big hurrah...was this my chance...and it's blown? I'm scared I'll get scared to ever move away from Memphis again...and well, my goals kind of require it...and my heart really wants to...for crying out loud.

and Now I ask you...WTF? Honestly...What the WTF?


Anonymous said...

I don't think that all your eggs were in one basket or that the basket was his. That was your basket, and it got a hole in it. Now you have to go home to get one of the baskets and eggs that you left over there. When that basket is packed up nicely, you can return to London or go really anywhere else that you want to.

And you will make another move. If you have motivation to move for yourself, you'll go. You don't need a person to help you. In fact, you would be able to make more friends and try more things if you didn't have someone to heavily rely on. It took a whole lot of courage for you to travel abroad by yourself the first time, and you didn't have one person there to encourage you every day. One day you'll feel that strength again because you're the amazing Nancy Caroline Allen. Remember how it feels to do things for you and only you? Like drive around in the middle of nowhere on a warm summer night listening to wonderful ladies of music, appreciating the beauty in the world and in yourself. Remember that feeling and strength; you have it. Some dumb boy can't take that away from you. There's no way that you would ever fucking let him.


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diana said...

who needs eggs anyway when you've got all those marbles? or balls for that matter.