If I don't tell anyone . . does it mean it didn't happen? If I tell you . . will you think I'm crazy?
He told me that he loved me. I wanted him and he wanted me.
So I thought. Seems he told a lot of women the same story.
I bought it ~ hook, line, and sinker. Or sucker, I should say.
When I confronted him, he laughed. Said he didn't do it. Said it was just a pack of lies.
I wanted to believe him. But I knew better than to take him at his word.
I had him followed. To her house.
I didn't need to. Have him followed.
She called me. To brag. Said it was too bad that he didn't love me the way he loved her.
I cried. But it didn't help. What I wanted was for him to tell me that he loved me. That he was sorry.
And he will. Just wait.
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Friday, November 9, 2012
Expressions of My Identity
I have never quite "fit in". . although I am always trying.
I say please and thank you . . and isn't that nice, while smiling.
But what I really think usually stays inside. .
Or I should say it stays in my head. . .
And goes round and round and round.
When I try to say who I am or what I think . . I am tongue-tied.
I have practiced over and over the 15 second "sales pitch".
It sounds ridiculous.
It is not an expression of my identity.
My eyes are.
The kind of work I do is.
The way I bake coffee cake on Christmas . .
These are expressions of my identity.
You can tell who I am by asking me a question that requires the truth today
And again, the same question next week. It will still be the truth.
Rather than creating a fictional persona who curtsies and prattles about . . . I am strong on most days, knowing what I want and what I don't want . . and yet, when my guard is down, when I am uncertain, I feel like an idiot . .and so I hide. . .afraid of my own shadow.
I do not like the dark side of who I am (although I know she exists) . . and so I force her to be silent.
But the silence can be deafening.
It can keep me from hearing even my own inner voice.
And so I am on a mission to recover my shadow self. . to express who I really am.
However, first I must go within and find her.
I say please and thank you . . and isn't that nice, while smiling.
But what I really think usually stays inside. .
Or I should say it stays in my head. . .
And goes round and round and round.
When I try to say who I am or what I think . . I am tongue-tied.
I have practiced over and over the 15 second "sales pitch".
It sounds ridiculous.
It is not an expression of my identity.
My eyes are.
The kind of work I do is.
The way I bake coffee cake on Christmas . .
These are expressions of my identity.
You can tell who I am by asking me a question that requires the truth today
And again, the same question next week. It will still be the truth.
Rather than creating a fictional persona who curtsies and prattles about . . . I am strong on most days, knowing what I want and what I don't want . . and yet, when my guard is down, when I am uncertain, I feel like an idiot . .and so I hide. . .afraid of my own shadow.
I do not like the dark side of who I am (although I know she exists) . . and so I force her to be silent.
But the silence can be deafening.
It can keep me from hearing even my own inner voice.
And so I am on a mission to recover my shadow self. . to express who I really am.
However, first I must go within and find her.
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