Bent Words

Bent Words

September 17, 2008

I wonder what’s caught you now…

What glimpse of truth – or blink of make believe – has wrapped you up in hesitation?

For one weekend, you’re inescapable from my sight. Your footprints are impressed upon my living room floor, you’ve taken up space on my kitchen table and the refrigerator bares proof of your occupation. I tell my mother where we’ve dined, I explain to my father that I don’t need an oil change for you brought my car in, I excuse myself from evenings out as I am otherwise engaged.

It wasn’t my imagination – you were here.

But where have you gone?

Did you get your fill, slake your needs, glean some satisfaction… until next time? Did I commit an offense, cross a line, cause a wound? Did the idea of falling – or of causing one to fall – produce an undesired effect in your personal space? Have you expelled your share, did you see a ghost, have you checked your finances lately? Did you just need a place to stay, a few hours of game to play, an outlet for your frustration? Are you bored, have you found a new fancy or are you just too busy? Is it all “just in my head,” do I simply “read too much into things”?

Because, seriously, whatever it is, I can take it. You don’t have to play the “I don’t want to hurt you” card.

I’ve heard better reasons, seen more likely stories, had my fill of excuses. I’ve not gone “girl” on you – I just want to know what the hell it is you think you’re doing. You can come and go as you please if you can find the pair of balls in your pants that alerts me to the fact that that’s what you want. You can stop by, pretend you care, take a nap, hit the net and then be on your way – no worries.

Just set the record straight that I’m not supposed to care.

And then you won’t have to suffer through the details of my day or the remnants of my week. You won’t have your soap in the shower but you won’t have to worry about answering my inquiries. Let me know that I don’t have to prepare for your arrival or set aside time or hope for an encounter.

We don’t need to “sit down” and have a “discussion.” You can stay where you are, tell me from there, write it down shorthand-style; I just want to know if you’re in it or merely passing by – that’s all. I don’t want the white picket fence. I’ve seen enough of that and all the straddling one can commit to. So just let me in on it. Which side?

Is this life mine or do you want to share?

Let me know what you want. Let me know what’s caught you for it’s only my mind we can readily read. Not yours.

And I don’t want to wonder.

Written at 10:35 p.m.