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when he handed her the book "I hate you. don't leave me"; at the time, it ripped a shred into her onion-skin armor. She likely compensated by alerting the demon that lived in the top of her ass who likely made an ass of her. Would it be her fault? line up.
she had already digested the "just like your father" carrie fisher-trendy malaise just barely. She for sure threw up this new nail in her sarcophagus.
This latest husband made her look up and bray in July. Although she'd considered herself technically correct and compensatory from past efforts, she still had a relationship that ended with emotional screaming rage shame pit words. What pray tell. The first time, it had been she who had not had the balls to own that she was a human who lost control and slashed and ripped all sane conventions in the first round. It had been she who never wanted to rebuild what had been structurally broken. She had walked away. In her head, she was saving him. Such bullshit. Yet Vegas wasn't built on great architecture alone. She's still sorting this second rupture, yet she hadn't cheated. she had been committed, and she still got committed. She was in for the longest of hauls forgiving of hauling and offs (although she was so hoping she'd get payback and he'd have to take care of her for a change in the future....classic fucked up marriage program) no. matter. what.
Back back to empty and lonely. Spouse one gave her that book about super fucked up people thirty years ago and said "this is you". She had already read the symptoms and was ok for most of them except the two crucial ones: fear of being alone and feelings of emptiness.
"Ha! da fuk I don't love being alone Marcia and wish for more of it all the time... and empty? ppppssshhhhawww I only WISH my head could be empty for four milliseconds so I could get some peace. I think all the time. this is bullshit. bye stupid dumb diagnosis. Bye mean judge judger - me me me hurt ouch"
And then you hit Lii year and you go to a place you never again thought you'd ever go (and let's be real, she waited until the kids were gone from their weekend stay) and you drive another man to reach into a part of himself he wishes he could also bottle up forever and you blame each other and six months later a former beloved face-valued wife is a shell-shocked wreck tapping on some keys at an old telegram.
"Fuck. I know I've said it before. I know. I know, yet this time it hits different. I'm a vampire. I have used everyone to give me meaning - either a ranking/superiority or a purpose ...."
Andrea caught her on the sunset of the last time she could pretend to be in her 30's when she was in her 40's. In Greek or Sumerian culture there were colors for women. white for pre-blood, red - for fertile blood, black for crone post-blood. I'll always digress, yet she went into the marriage going "I'm settling, but he is a good investment, and in all my career I've never been this adored with this little effort."
Have you ever noticed that even her writings, it's always inspired or anything inspired by a man. It's almost as mythical as Lucifer and god - the first fall (trying to get Daddy to value me again and mommy to rescue me - rinse repeat gag)
In psychological euphemisms, they call it limerence. It goes away maximum of two years. They got married on the two year anniversary of their first date. He was able with his white tall professionalism to get them a fine ass apartment in the nice part of town, and she was quite honestly impressed. The views were something she still misses. Even when she was in the apartment, she wanted to appreciate it every day.
Once he did this or perhaps it was the evaporation of limerence or the beginning of house making as a wife stepmother; things started to crack. He was so empty, there was nothing to suck up perhaps. She began to worry, and every day would wonder if it was going to work. She took it out on her job which she had always hated yet had mostly been a bit player in her bullshit saga.
Finally, she got the chance to go to school to be a mother-jeffing counselor - a mental health worker. It was two years and funded by her work. She kept thinking she was going to get called out and rejected, but lo and behold....
that was an empty day, two months after your husband smacks you down and crawling out of jail you're walking down the aisle accepting your diploma with not a soul in the audience there for you. Talk about empty. We'll talk about imposter later too raw.
And you'll not know what it means but this feeling of control. It very much helps the feeling that you're not alone. And the thinking all the time of them/you, it's hardly the same.
short story long, she has been so empty and lonely and thinking her only worth was 'want me' to be a trophy, and her spouse had been a collector of things he then put on a shelf. She got knocked off by quite an earthquake.
A long time ago she was the same person she is now. This new person who is hopefully wiser, yet it's all the same show in her head. Time more for physical functions. It was cold. She was going to make some French toast from the $3 bread from the Vietnamese bakery using the eggs from the asian market where she's so far the only white person she's ever seen there and diversely bask in the context while she marvels at basic life things alone with you all in her head.
she shakes the head with the short hair (sea bather's eruption gathers in the hair if anyone who loves you bothers to read about it learns....)
is it sideways or up and down
(u know it's both at the same time)
P.S. she was scared shiteless when she gave Andrea the happyrobot link after dating him enough time to allow him to see her narcissism and weakness and structure - I mean she had written it for him/Him. dude didn't even read it "I don't like labels".
giddy up
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