I loved the Lifestyle.
He didn't cling.
HE didn't cloy.
He took me to great parties.
I loved his "MORNING DANCE"--nice little red tighty reddies....
I was the NOT morning girl, burying her face in the pillows, but giggling,
and looking up.
He's a great dancer.
Actually, He is.
HE has a pretty face.
HE makes me laugh.
He told me I was different from his last girl--I Wanted something...
to be CREATIVE...
Like He, I didn't want marriage, or children...
There was more to life than that.
Maybe we would vacation in Iceland?
We looked at tickets.....
I got excited by work parties....made elaborate food--
and basked in the praise from coworkers who made things happen
in THE INDUSTRY
I was vain, and chuffed, to be allowed in.
HE has my Fantastic Four T-shirt...that was a gift from another friend...
but he looks too good in it, to ask for it back.
Even though he doesn't have any idea who they are,
and will not wear it.
I'll ask for it back.
I won't wear it either--it's toooo big.
But maybe it will go in the quilt one day?
*head in hands*
In the end.......
he was giving too much.
I was basking, and playing HOUSE.
I wasn't being myself....
I wasn't being the Girl he Met.
I was being a 34 year old--who wanted, FINALLY
to settle down.
I broke even My OWN rules.
And my Father comforted me by saying:
A man, and I'm sorry to say I am one of those creatures too,
Is his job. He wants to find out how far he can go......
and maybe he's afraid to risk taking you there.
Best conversation I have EVER had with my Pop.
Somehow, it made me feel better.
*laughs at herself*
I wanted to let this rest easy.....
be his Friend.
But I've ruined that.
I'm his EX now.
The crazy one.
The last.......crazy one.
Until the next, crazy one.
THE CHEAP PART.......
The Cheap part is...
I do love him.
I can't take him back,
and he doesn't want me back.
Somehow in the midst of all that fun......
The way he smells, and laughs in his sleep....
The costumes I made for Halloween--HE made a GREAT
I made a great Trixie.
How well I got along with his Pop, Smitty--
and the fact that Mom gave Smitty directions to the house.....
for NEXT Christmas?
It didn't work.
I wasn't enough.
I failed...by becoming...
I didn't stay
Now it's over.........
and one of my drunk calls
consisted of me trying to tell him:
I'm BACK, I'm the girl you met--that night...
I want...i want so badly to meet you all over again
I'll do it right this time.
I am about ready
to do what my dear DEAR Friend elitistbill
is fond of calling:
Throw Bodies At It.