Desire

Through a haze of scarlet the woman labored ... she pulled with all her might... Crystalline droplets of sweat quivered delicately before they fell like rain. Her garments clung to her, red intermingled with the clear.

Cheeks flushed, her breath coming in pants ... harder now, she thought. Her dark hair ran like sleek rivers down her neck, over her shoulders, down her back. Must. Have ... IT.

She clutched her fingers convulsively as the red haze deepened. Were those moans really coming from her?

With a final wrenching surge of power, she jerked her hands up with a silent shriek of ecstasy ... looking up, the red haze was now punctuated with little red drops ... rivulets were streaming down her arms ... Ah.

Does it hurt any less now?

She tenderly stroked that little red organ as it pumped the last of her life out in little spurts. Eyelids fluttering heavily, a satisfied smile flirting on her cherry lips, she gave in to the lethargy that began to steal over her.

The ground embraced her, her arm outstretched ... her graceful fingers released their grip as that treacherous little poison apple of pain sought the ground as well ...

It's a funny thing, she thought as her eyelids began their final descent. The pain still lives.

Unrequited ...

I take a deep breath. My heart is an intricate scarlet Chinese knot. Must I do this? There really isn't a choice. With a sigh, I turn around & take a seat at the table. I am staring at the tops of my thighs ... sighing again, I look up.

How was your day, I ask.

No response.

I missed you. Silence.

I know we haven't been getting along ... please look at me? Tears start stinging at the edges of my eyes.

I don't know you anymore, and yet, I know you so well! Please say something, I beg.

I want to hear your voice again. The beauty of your laugh, the unfettered joy of that special laugh you used to have. How everything used to glow with a special anticipation through your eyes!

Please talk to me? Did I do this to you? I can't stand that glowering, accusatory glare ...

I love you ...

I LOVE you. Did you hear me? The scarlet knot slithers a little tighter.

My voice turns hoarse ... you love me. Say you love me.

She looks back at me and I know there MUST be love swimming somewhere behind those weary doubting eyes.

What does she see when she looks at me? My ample chins, quivering flab ... my eyes that barely light up anymore. Haunted, trapped, old and so very very tired. HOW can she love me? How many times have I betrayed her? Sold her into misery, lied about how she had no choice ... unlovable.

I put my hand up - her hand comes up to meet mine. You are mine. I LOVE YOU. Do you HEAR ME? I. LOVE. YOU.

Today is the beginning of this love. You DESERVE this love. I promise it.

Slowly, I stand up and put my face against the mirror. Our faces meet and my tears slide hotly down, misting the mirror.

I will be back tomorrow.

DEAL

A funny thing happened today: I've decided to really love me. Wanna know how it happened? Me neither ... just kidding.

Well it began like this: my mother called. Not like she usually does, like a recurring nightmare ... we made an appointment for her to call at a time during which I would be distraction-free & all alone - in other words, primed for martyrdom. I was in the process of raising a Trader Joe's BBQ potato chip to my lips (since I forgot lunch & was starving at 2+pm) when my trusty headset phone chimed out "We Wish You a Merry X'mas" - my mother's personalized ringtone.

I swallowed the chip virtually whole & licked my fingers whilst my heart dropped virtually to my feet from dread as I picked up the phone. She spoke ... and she spoke ... and spoke ... that tight feeling in my chest grew ... and it grew ... and grew ... until it was this inexplicable knot of pain, grief, loathing & hate. I lost my appetite - very un-Chinese of me I know, but how can one eat at a time like this? This was important: the beginning of the end.

Who is this person with whom I've been speaking for almost 2 hours?? Is this the person who bore me & shaped my very being from the 1st day of my existence into adulthood? Is there not iota of love, decency or motherly feeling in that Swiss cheese-maze of a brain of hers? She was relentless: on and on it went, the poking, the prodding, insulting & accusing. I would've chosen police interrogation over this, phonebook'n all - at least the police are trying to serve justice (most of the time anyway) - she was just out to tear me down ... for attention.

She ended the call with a flounce, a lethal cocktail of rejection, meanness & more cold rejection ... oh,and I need a favor, a sweet lavender polo in medium from Lands End - I just have to have one more.

Oh I cried ... I ranted & raved, and said I never wanted to talk to her or see her again (which I never do). Sooooo sad. Soooooo angry. Soooooooo very, very done. Finally, I was exhausted, & calm. Would I talk to her again? Probably, & soon too. Would I ever see her again? Probably too. Would I ever say, "Yes, she has her faults, but I love her because she's my mother." again? NEVER. EVER. Again.

She will never again be given the innocence of my love & trust again. She will be called "Mummy" because really, do mothers have any other name once they become mothers to their children?

To tear down your child's love for you from the very core of their being is a long, tiresome & painful process - about 37 years. That's how long it takes to tear down an optimist. Years of childish hope & faith, years of denial & therapy ... so many years of hate & guilt. When will she ever take care of me? Mummy?

So I will love me. I will take care of myself - a strange & alien thing to do. I'm not quite sure where to begin, or what exactly to do, how to start ... like the lone dorky early arrival at the first ballroom dance class at the community center. Good thing is, I'm a fast learner. Mummy, did you know I'm a very smart, lovable girl?

Well, who gives a $&#@ anymore? Deal.

Falling Out Of Love

I never imagined that falling out of love would be a meandering process of revelations ... so insidious and gently predatory. There's always been this notion that the object of your love would commit some sin so heinous that one would be spontaneously jolted out of love.

It would be so much less painful if one were falling out of love with, say, a lover. To fall out of love with someone so intrinsically linked with your psyche, who not only shaped you from a cellular level, but will continue to shape your life for as long as they live: it is devastating.

So our relationship wasn't perfect from the beginning - which relationship is anyway? So what if "abusive" best describes the tone of it? One must be faithful, loyal and forgiving, yes? What's a relationship without compromise? Don't we all want to be loved in spite of our glorious imperfection?

But the pain ... the pain, the guilt ... such irritation! Shackles! A LIFETIME of it. Some are driven to madness. Some to murder, and many, to drink. Too dramatic? SOMEONE tell me that love isn't dramatic - puh-leeeeese.

So I will cut this "limb" off. I will salvage my life, apply salve to my wounds. Maybe after the nuclear fallout. And nuclear it'll certainly be. There is not one area of my life unaffected, not a single loved one will stand untouched. Simply apocalyptic. Well that's certainly a fitting end isn't it? They'd be so proud I'm being apocalyptic.

After all the tears, the accusation and guilt-hurling is done, what can one do but pick up the pieces of one's life and ... PRANCE YOUR WAY TO HAPPILY EVER AFTER??

Well, hell ...

So much for good intent - has it really been over 2 years since I blogged? So much has changed, & more has stayed the same. I'm not the same person I used to be, but more, bigger, better, scarier(??) ... well, definitely bigger. Do I have much the same issues? Hell yeah. More issues? Uh, YEAH. I think this is definitely the case of "the older I get, the more I really don't know".

Let me start at the beginning ... NOT. Let's start now.

What am I doing now? For one, I'm frantically baking 55 Triple Chocolate Cupcakes for my son's 5th birthday party tomorrow. I'm procrastinating making my to-do list for tomorrow, without which, there'd be chaos. I've gotta ice'em, stick pirate gummies on'em & stack'em on a cupcake tree. God, is this inane or what? I've got pirate everything up the wahoo ... hope the kid'll appreciate this HUGE detour from good taste & normalcy for me ... also NOT. Does this remind anyone of Borat? Say ... NOT!?

Imagine a tall, sparkling glass of Mumm Napa Blanc de Noirs in my hand - here's to another beautiful beginning ... uh bedidly-be-diddly-bede-bedly that's all folks!