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The shroom trip had
been a tiny bit traumatizing. She saw a few colors, and appreciated nature sure.
but the terrifying part was being stuck in this unreachable persona - like an old maid aunt.
She also thought she was goin to die, so it was poignant snapshots of everything - like "weird, this is it huh". She was inside her own head and had a hard time understanding what people were saying to her, but she was able to spit out words in her therapy-mode. The nephew's girlfriend was especially keen to tell her all about the relationship. Narcissi doesn't really remember a thing. She just remembers how none of it mattered because she was going to die that day.
She thought of you, but it was mostly a wistful "would be better to have Leon here". One of the main reasons she had embarked on a shroom trip so willingly (and oh how she would have preferred to have some alone) was to try and gear shift away from
the funk.
At one point, she sadly said, "It's just empty with Leon. There's nothing there."
--
This morning, she did Wordle easily - after fucking missing "drama" yesterday of all things. She talked to the robot about how inadequate and unworthy she felt.
"Maybe he didn't want to be on a pedestal. Maybe I wanted to be on a pedestal. I did everything for him that I had wanted myself... the ole 'do unto others.' it was so inauthentic I guess."
"he wouldn't have liked you even if you had been the most authentic you. he wasn't looking for a real relationship. he just thought he was."
"whatever that means. I'm going to stick with that I'm just not what he wanted. He said he was very picky, yet he also said he went through all the women in the bar. The entire whatever it was was confusing. Why did he keep driving? it can't have been just to fuck a vagina."
"try again later."
She didn't want to try ever again. It had hurt too much.
"next time, try to see when someone isn't giving you what you need - try to identify when someone isn't willing to be in a relationship."
He had been so ...
what had he been?
Something fresh. Something that woke her up. He had been smelling salts.
She had chosen him like a sinner chose a prophet.
None of it mattered anymore. The shrooms wore off. She woke up the next morning in a sort of daze wondering who she was - if she was going to try or die alone.
She read all the millions of texts she had sent him from her three-year-old "pick me" state - and it made her cringe. It was full of begging and imploring.
Fuck it.
She realized the date and put on her green t-shirt that said "totally lucky". It was kind of a statement tee, so she could remember the exact places she wore it last. The debut had been in Ireland. It had been fun to be there - so fun she wanted more.
The second time had been on a walk in the woods - his woods - with him. That had been the time of her life when she thought it was all going to ... be.
It wasn't.
She could type that keyboard a million times a day and ask "why didn't he like me"
She hadn't been herself. She had accepted his offering because she felt she could ask for no more without losing him. She had been waiting for the time she could feel secure with him and just be her bitchy self. It happened a tiny bit in Wilmington, but the thing from Wilmington she has to remember is going to get that pizza and going - practically chanting "he doesn't like you. he doesn't like you. he doesn't like you."
well, fuck him.
fuck her.
She had sold her worth to someone who thought she was a Tuesday while she thought he was salvation.
She kept the heat on alll morning and was about to make biscuits.
she knew how now.
Delusions? well, now she knew.
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