Monday, August 23, 2010

August 23, 2010

She needed to write something. So, she did. She began the way that Earnest Hemingway told her to, “begin with one true fact.” So she did. She wrote “she needed to write something.” And it all took off from there.

She sat in the middle of the couch, her laptop balancing on her leg and warming her bare skin as she bobbed her head to Citizen Cope: “I will never forget your healing hands, my love...

She thought about how much pressure people apply to the other people in their lives. We think someone else will heal us. Someone that we haven't met yet will come to us and look on us with fresh and accurate eyes and they'll love all the things we hate about ourselves and by the time the credits role, we will have survived a terrible emotional crisis, someone will make an unashamed, out-of-character public scene and then we all become beautiful, colorful people. We will walk hand-in-hand and be whole and adopt a puppy together.

It makes her so frustrated when she thinks about it too much so she made a deal with herself that by the time this song ends, she'll have changed topics. The other side of that coin is that it makes her feel satiated to consider the fact that she doesn't need that healing and that's why she doesn't go looking for it. People don't understand it. They can't comprehend the way that she wants to heal herself instead of finding someone else to do it. Sometimes, less often than not, it is lonely. But, really, that only happens when she watches really old episodes of The Office and maybe overindulges in John Mayer.

New song: “Listen, when all of this around us will fall, I'll tell you what we're gonna do. You will shelter me, my love, and I will shelter you.

Okay, that's more like it.

She is always thinking about these things even though she understands so very little. She doesn't know what it is, but she does know what it's not. That's something, at least.

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