SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

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Saturday, Jul. 02, 2005 @ 9:49 am
The Hardest Day



I took the ring off. There is a pale tan line.

I feel sick for what I am about to do.

Who am I anymore?

He shivers and cries as I tell him I fear it was all a mistake, us falling in love.

Out on the town I fell in love briefly with the man my sister is falling for. His leg touched mine under the table but it was all a game because he'd never go for a girl like ME when there is HER right there too. He'd like me better, I know, but he's blind to me. It all reminds me how being out with her is difficult sometimes. I close my eyes and let it all roll off my back, shrug it all off. The City. Water rolling off a duck's back; I duck the glances of the city; eyeings and side-looks beat against my open raw heart like that dense west coast rain.

I felt so different in the city. I don't belong among the sky scrapers. My clothes are suburban cotton no-style. However much I crave to be with someone put-together and city-styled, I'd only be pretending. Eyes wide open, I learn how Tim is good for me despite what I've told everyone, despite their I-told-you-sos.

Over the phone I cry so hard and he cries too. He calls me emotionless and a brick wall. I open up and it rushes out. Lovelovelovelove I forgot to love you, I'm sorry. You play your guitar to a bar full of people but you don't play your guitar for me. I forgot to be affectionate. Because I became lazy I saw your flaws and let them overpower the good we have. Who am I to treat your love like that?

Perhaps I learned somewhere that little girls are to be seen and not heard, and perhaps I never grew beyond that. Somewhere along the way I missed out on learning how to have a conversation. I never learned to express my feelings. You should talk more, your voice is like how you write and it's beautiful.

I straightened the photo of Tim and me on my wall. I put the ring back on my right thumb. Snowflake thumb.

It would be easy to run...

And then there I am at the edge of Deer Lake, hands pulled into the sleeves of my sweater, twisting the ring around on my thumb. Ducks and geese are lined up roosting at the lake edge. They mutter gently and bob ever so slightly in the small lake ripples. The suburban city centre towers on the hill on the far side of the lake, and Dan and I are in the shadow of the old asylum grounds.

We sit on bench and he tells me the same things that anyone who has seen me before tells me too. That I have and aura of greatness and acceptance. That they have fallen for me. That I am worth fighting for. That they want to protect me and experience the world by my side.

The night I met you downtown I felt an unusual energy. At the time I thought it was a power generated by the band. Now I know differently. I feel the same energy when I am around you now. It was you all along but it was impossible to determine the source that night through the smoke and alcohol. Not many people would undertake a life with me, someone who's vision has failed. You would, I know, and you make my heart race when you look at me because I know that you're not looking at me but looking within me.

In the life where I stay with Tim I see this scene. I see myself on the road with him. Boston, New Orleans, Sacramento. I'm alone in the hotel room at 6:30pm. I stand at the window and look down onto a rushing city, and a baby cries in my arms.

If you really love me you'll overlook the negative aspects of my lifestyle. You know it won't be like that... I wouldn't let it become like that.

I know. I just have to figure out whether I want to try to make it work. Do I want to forget about ever falling in love with someone new? It's my worst addiction.





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