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Not funny yet

Not in a grand place.

There are still some people whom I walk past breathless, eyes wide open like a mad cow, whom I cannot talk to. And when their name is mentioned I twitch and try so stupidly hard to put on a brave face, because inside, even more stupidly, I am still not whole. And it just isn’t funny yet. How ridiculously little I mean to some people. And how immense their absence is in my life, today.

Pathetic, piddly, puny. I feel worthy of being only one and a half metres tall tonight, because my emotions are equally microscopic in their insignificance. This means nothing in the everything of life, and I know it.

Then there are other people, whom I strive to embrace and be ‘normal’ around. And sometimes it’s all dandy and I soften like putty on a hot day, defenceless, like a snail without a shell. Tonight, I’m tense as it is from the work and the stress, and knowing you don’t think of me, knowing it was but a passing fancy, so when we finally do make plans (where you say how are you, and I ask you for the 3rd time in a few days to come see me. Pathetic. ) and grab dinner, it isn’t even satisfactory. I don’t know what to say to you, because if I let my body speak you will push me back. Repelled. Not even forcefully, you’re not that passionate. More like a quick, time-efficient, sociopolitically-conscious shove. It’s awkward being alone with you, it’s awkward with four other people at our table.

The universe kicks up a fucking laughing marathon though, when I say there are “other things” going on in my life, and you belt out “Oh are you seeing someone?!” exclamation mark yell exclamation mark repeat five times in growing tempo and volume, so that the entire table jerks their curious necks and beer bottles towards my tomato head. No no, oh, no no no, I assure you and our delightful company, NOT AT ALLLLL. Dahrling.

I most damn certainly am not seeing anyone, because all I see when I close my eyes, are you and him and you and him like fucking tidal waves whacking my retina. God, give me Alzheimers already. I don’t want to have a memory anymore.

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