April 13, 2002
Not Quite as I Would Have It
He's got me all poetic feeling.
My eyes darted across the linoleum, black mice scurrying. He was not there. Somewhere inside a frantic voice shouted that he was scheduled for tonight, he was scheduled for tonight!
A motherly voice soothed this one, claiming that perhaps if he was not in tonight he would be in tomorrow.
A wicked voice taunted with the idea that he had called out to go on a date with the supposed-nebulous girlfriend.
A fourth and final voice did not speak, but merely heaved a sigh of exasperation. That one was mine.
Exhaustion crept early into my bones this Friday night, the usual pretended gaiety even more transparent. I imagined his smile, half crooked, half shy, imagined it pointed at everyone but me.
I was going to say hello tonight. I was.
Would he have said it back?
The night ends with a half hearted hug for Justin-the-18-year-old-busboy-and-apparent-and-persistent-suitor. I haven't had a decent hug in months, but to indulge in one with him would be crossing a line I have already vowed not to cross, both to him and myself. I wonder why it is that a smart boy will not recognize me for what I am: a smart girl. Will I forever be chased by those who do not seek that which is in my mind? Justin is not a bad guy. He's just a guy. Just a regular guy.
Do I deserve to be picky?
And yet, how could I not deny him when it is to another my heart has already flown?
Next time, I will remember to cut off its wings.
I tried to kill a wasp with a rolled up Spin magazine. It was hovering on the light bulb. I blew out the light instead, and the wasp mysteriously disappeared.
I only hope it is not in my bed.
Would I stil feel the sting in my dreams?
astera at 1:07 a.m.