streams two

frijasday 26 august 2011


dense clouds of language lie about the crucial point
                              ~~~  wittgenstein

a 5 and a 2. this is for you, you know that. a 5 and a 2… do I have all my numbers and dates right?… I passed that 5 and that 2 so long ago it feels like a decade… didn’t get to pass them in a house with two cars and two incomes and any kind of comfort born of money and a human. had to pass them hard… the easiness of your years compared to mine causes one of our favorite things, yours and mine: bitterness…

all you needed to do was say that my idea was just as possible as yours… or, later, just to say the word sorry… sorry I didn’t give your thoughts as much credence as I gave my own… so simple to me, so do-able. but wasn’t done. simple words weren’t said. and in that stinginess, everything of value was tossed out… I couldn’t go on without credence.

maybe the value was only there for me. that seems to happen way too much… maybe those letters and calls were only dear to me, and the loss of them for you is relief… maybe the cards and gifts reached my heart and not yours, or not yours deep enough… not deep enough to overcome your me-world… no one must expect from you.

it surprises me that you could get to 5 and 2, that you could read  those hundreds of books, that you could baby a baby who brings home the big bucks for so many years and not know… not know that closeness has expectations built in, on both sides…  you expected from me too. expected my mind (you called it formidable)  to stimulate you… expected to be a writer vicariously, through me… but you wanted it for free. no expectations on my part. and you expected me not to be fragile… that’s pretty damned arrogant, you know. you who have had so much ease and comfort compared to me. you who have never had everything destroyed. to expect me not to be fragile. what right do you have to expect that…

it surprises me to have found that you can’t be honorable for very long. I’d thought you other than that…

I’d like to be calling for 5 and 2… would like to have sent a gift. longing for the way it was last year…

but I need credence, to be believed and believed in. I went without other things from you, stayed on because of what was good. but couldn’t go on without belief.

little equations learned along the way… the more selfishness, the more arrogance, the more difficult the words I’m sorry. impossible, in the end. an admission of mistake the ego can’t bear. a loss of face that can’t be endured. 5 and 2 is still too young to suck it up and take the loss of face. it passes, this perceived diminishment… it passes once it’s done, once the way is cleared for the bright things to go on…

always it comes back to only me: it was important only to me. it was worth trying to keep, only to me… to you it was a weight. to you it was expectations intruding into me-ness. to you it was all better gone…

when my day comes, will you think? will you write? will you regret?…. no, no and no, I know. know already before I ask the questions. no. people’s favorite word to give me. life’s favorite word to give me…

I remember 5 and 2, and you, and last year, and what was and what wasn’t… I see the empty space where all that was. do you?… no, no and no.

why did you come looking for me, if self-involved was all you wanted to be? why did you even come looking?


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