i send my SOS to the world- this is my message in a bottle. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Rewind and Forward Out of the blue, I hear from you again. And it's been awhile, long enough for the scars to fade, long enough so that the past is a faded memory. Not that it hurts- it stopped hurting a long time ago, if it ever did. I'd be lying if I said it didn't take me surprise, but it's been so long ago from you and I that it almost doesn't even matter anymore. You're back in San Diego, wondering when I'm returning. You are a hazy picture to me but so clear and definitive in your scope that the things I should remember I don't, and the things that do I recall are burned in my memory. I remember the drawl in your voice, the slow, sardonic drawl that you used, made even slower when you got angry with me. I remember your height (6'3) and your shoe size (thirteen) because of the Nike Cortez '72's that I bought you for christmas. But I can't conjure up your smile at all or even one sweet word. Maybe it's because those things didn't exist, but part of me is frantically searching my memory hoping that there is something worth looking back upon with you. I remember the one time you took my hand as we walked along La Jolla shores and I remember feeling the forced, begrudged tenseness in your palm. I remember you hated how I sang in the car and you took every single opportunity to tell me. I remember how small I'd feel, driving away from your apartment and wondering why I ever came back. I remember your back, turned to me while I stifled a cry, knowing that it didn't really matter either way. I remember your impassive face during my most vulnerable moments. I remember every cutting word, every criticism. I remember each and every time I resolved to do things different with you after blaming myself and how ridiculous I felt afterward because each smile and optimistic thought was responded to with a sarcastic, biting hatred. I felt simple next to you. My world seemed so much more clear cut and your stern decisiveness forced me to doubt the sunny-ness I had invested myself in. I felt like a child and perhaps after everything, maybe it was time to grow up. When does that moment occur? That second where all the idealistic dreams and sweet smelling notions of love are replaced with an outershell that I can't even permeate? I had ideas of myself that I thought were inpenetrable. Maybe you'd be surprised at who I was and who I've become. You knew me in the worst ways back then- I was this odd contradiction of independence, non-girly, straightforward ambition. You knew me and I kept you at arms length because you didn't deserve to be any closer, but I still kept you around. You knew me and I was vulnerable and wore that around my shoulders in the form of shield. I buried myself in my mistakes, letting it define my relationships, letting it dictate what I believed I deserved. I let them serve as excuses to the sorry state of my love life. When I spoke to you today, it was the same- as much as it can remind me of how different we are and how even more different we are now that I'm gone. "I'm not that girl anymore," I longed to say, wishing you could tell without seeing me. Because I'm not that girl anymore. I'm not that girl that buckled underneath your words. I'm not that girl, bruised and subdued, silent and defiant, incapable of words, afraid of your flippant replies. I'm not that girl that tolerated more than I should have, I'm not the girl that stayed around because I wasn't ready for anything better. Maybe there is a sweetness that is finally coming back after years of beating it back. Perhaps now I can admit my falliability, my weaknesses. I've become more skilled in harnessing my fears. I am more forthcoming with myself, my honesty. I don't revel in being as hard edged as I used to be. I am not afraid to express uncertainty whereas before I wanted to have all the answers. I can give myself complements and accept them as well. I am learning to cook. Maybe a slight glimmer of maternal instinct is buried in here somewhere. That doesn't mean parts of that girl don't linger though. She still can be brash and harsh. She might still be glaringly independent- but that's only a theory, an unknown until it's tested appropriately. She's still headstrong but now unsure where to harness her ambitions. I wonder if you'd notice anyway though- you who knew me so little even when we were dating. But that's my fault as well- I never gave you the full picture. I never let you in on my secrets, knowing full well that the person that you alternately liked, lusted and hated in me was a poor reflection of who I really was. Half the time I played a role for you because then the hurt inflicted only rested in a character that could be discarded once I hopped in my car and drove away from you. I couldn't play me because I didn't know me anymore. A friend told me today that in recognizing the faults that lay with the past, the future will be better. And I hope for nothing more than that because I don't know if I can take anymore. I have my heart back- I don't want to waste it. I don't want to be cheated on anymore. I don't want to share my kisses, I don't want to ingest lies out of desperation. I don't want to lose close friends to deception. I don't want to be told emotional untruths for physical gratification. I don't want to be the other woman. I don't want to be second best. So this is my resolution for myself: You don't have to be. 1:07 a.m. - Saturday, Apr. 16, 2005 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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