I warned you, before you bought me dinner, that if it happened again it wouldn’t be your fault.
I held it in for so long. Work was hard, and then I paced around your neighborhood until you got there. Maybe I should have just gone home, but you were all I wanted. It’s unfair sometimes, how the people you care about the most are the same ones who free you to be your worst possible self.
We went to bed early. “Take off your jeans,” you told me, “Lie down.”
I needed instructions. I was exhausted. My face hurt. Hormones were running through my body, and too many thoughts through my head.
“Let it go if you have to,” you gave me permission. You held me.
And, hands over my face, I sobbed for no reason, for twelve million reasons:
Because everyone else seems to know what they’re doing, but I can’t seem to be happy and above the poverty line at the same time. Because I’m going to have to ask my parents for help, again, and because I know they’ll give it to me. Because I want you to like me, and I don’t want you to see me like this. Because I can’t help it.
And maybe I should have never moved here and I shouldn’t have spent so much money I didn’t have going to school and I should at least find an apartment I can afford. And I should get a real job because I’m too smart to be this poor. And I don’t want to disappoint anyone. If I let myself, I could start to regret everything.
“I’m sorry. I’m really really sorry.”
“Hey. I’m still here, aren’t I?”
You remind me. I could have done everything differently, but then maybe I wouldn’t have met you. And maybe that’s inconsequential.
The tears are over, I think. And you hold me against you while my breathing calms down.
But maybe it’s not inconsequential at all.
~beatrix
5 comments:
I could have written a post just like this. The poverty, the needing parents for help, wanting to know what i'm gonig to do with my life, having a job that pays better...That should let you know that you are not alone.
sometimes a good cry and being wrapped around by a guy who cares about you is all we really need.
dude.
is everyone doing this right now? Holy shit I am not alone.
I do have a boyfriend, but I don't know if he would hang on to me as maturely and understanding as the one you've got, but I'm done complaining.
Damn Beatrix. I feel insanely closer to you now.
imerika: crazy that you feel the same. I'm telling you dude....something with being 20-something...it's killing us.
Or...making us stronger.
Take it from a forty-something, these thoughts will continue to torment you through out your life in one form or another. Be thankful that you have a man who lets you vent, and holds you while you do. I love your blog.
I can't bear to write you any cliches.
But I think you're brilliant, and I suspect you'll be all right.
I think that you're smarter than most people, especially most people I know in real life.
You're doing something you love and being true to yourself. That's really something admirable.
And you know I'm old so I'm sorry to tell you that you'll feel this way for a long time, but that's ok. Because you've got your parents, your gig, your funny stories.
That's already so much better than most.
www.loganlo.com
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