07.14.03
"It is never too late to be what you might have been." ~ George Eliot
I bought groceries this weekend, which isn�t a big deal to most people, but to me it was tremendous. I noticed Saturday morning that the milk in the refrigerator was dated May 15 (ewww). I will stop there on the contents of the rest of the fridge, cause it�s just too damn gross.
So I waited patiently for BF to return home, making a list of all the stuff that I was going to buy at the grocery store. I divided the list up and re-wrote it (because I am OCD like that) in the order of where the items were on the isles in the store. I dressed carefully in warmer than your average July day clothes in anticipation of the coldness of the freezer section.
In other words, I got WAY too excited about going to Ingles.
When BF finally came home at 12:30 pm, he was drunk as shit. His dad had taken him & his friend out for �lunch�. They ended up not really eating, but getting incredibly hammered. This made me
He complained the whole way to the store and when the car finally stopped in the parking lot, I realized what a bad idea this whole thing was. He didn�t even park the car straight in the space, but instead took up 2 spaces and narrowly missed the shopping cart corral. I wrestled the keys away from him & amidst the stares of old ladies putting groceries in their trunks; I jumped in the driver�s seat. �Get in.� I told him. �I am taking you back home.� But when I turned the key, nothing happened. NOTHING. The car wouldn�t crank. And the rest of the story is quite predictable, as you might have guessed. His father had to come rescue us from the 90-degree hunk of uncrankable death that became the Honda after about 15 minutes. Do you people realize how fucking expensive a new battery can be? Fucking 95 dollars plus!
But I finally got my damn groceries. I guess that�s all that matters.
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I have the unbelievably strong urge to get 'torn up' after work today, and I probably will. I am tired of making excuses to myself as to why I SHOULDN'T and why I WON'T. I just want to drift off into a drug-induced semi coma state until it's time to come back here tomorrow. Is that so wrong? It's been such a long while now...
This guy called my cell Saturday after we got back from our grocery store adventures. The guy � someone I was �talking to� while BF and I were technically broken up last year. Some lame excuse to talk to me like he needed to get in touch with Bo. I told him that Bo has been in rehab for the past six months & gave him the number to the center. That wasn�t the end of the conversation because he kept B.S.ing about blah, blah, blah� And the whole time, there was BF sitting right next to me, listening to the entire conversation. I kept trying to cut it short. I told him that I had to go because my FIANCE and I were cooking dinner. Fiance?
Yes. BF and I have been engaged since Christmas� I figured that surely everyone had heard by now. And he just said �Wow. You are going to be a little mommy soon, I will bet money on it. Why else would you get married?�
Why do people have to be so stupid like that? He was irritated that I was back together with BF, so he had to say something ridiculously hateful. Fuck you JAY. Fuck you.
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My eyes are still tender but not swollen. As I lay across the bed last night, fan blowing, myrrh-scented lotion, BF kissing my back... I suddenly burst out crying. I couldn't even trace the tears back to their 'root' thought. The whole moment was just too much - and I tried to explain myself.
One thought was about the way that he was tracing my back all carelessly � soft � not sexual. He was un-purposefully making small circles around my sides, neck, and shoulders. I quickly drifted into that �in-between� time of sleeping & dreaming. I thought back to when I was in high school & we took a school trip to Miami. We left the day after Christmas. Miami was unbearably hot and humid even in December� But I was thinking back to that trip, or more so to the night before that trip. My grandma was so worried about her baby (me) traveling so far. I sat there in her chair with her and she was tracing my back � carelessly like this.
Suddenly, I was back in that long-ago house, sitting in that ancient chair. Rocking with her. Back & forth. And she was tracing my back with her tiny hands.
Her hands were just like tissue paper.
And for a moment, I felt her hand on my back and it was okay. It was perfectly fine. Except for the fact that she has been dead for quite some time. And I felt a twinge of panic. I can never go back there. I can NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER go back there again EVER. Back there with my silly childhood.
The week of her death, I didn't cry at all. I told everyone that it was because I hadn't a chance to miss her yet. Not the way that I sometimes miss her all SUDDENLY and unannounced.