Intransigence
“Please take down the misletoe
Cause I don’t wanna think about that right now
Cause everything I want is miles away
In a snow covered little town.”— Taylor Swift, “Christmases When You Were Mine”
The song title is a misnomer because it would imply that what’s inside a snow-covered little town was actually mine.
But maybe someday.
As for the specific town? Looks like Mother Nature is sending her white fury upon the United States yet again, so I hope all my friends are warm and safe, wherever they are. In all reaches of her wrathful path. And maybe one little corner in particular.
I got to thinking today about one of my boys I’ve talked about from time to time on this page. But for lack of desire to figure out which nickname(s) I did or didn’t use, I’ll call him Jupiter. Because, planets. And proximity.
I mentioned that I have UF on my case, cornering me and chasing me and trying to wear me down. And I see him SO EXCITED that I fell into the trap of going out Friday. (Ugh, I thought it was a normal day.)
And it both annoys the absolute fuck out of me and yet it hurts my heart that I could be so dead toward someone who actually seems to give a shit out about me.
Reminds me of Jupiter. And I want so badly to write a letter to him, pounding my fists against his metaphorical chest, asking him why he was so against me feeling I could mean anything to anyone in this world … yet calling me up several times a week to talk or hang BUT JUST NOT TOO CLOSE OKAY THERE DOE-EYED GIRL?
I do not seek out UF. I mean, he just said I can’t outrun him. Because there’s no hiding when someone is STALKING YOU.
Maybe I haven’t been firm enough with the fuck-off vibe. I would think making out in a bar with someone four months ago and never managing to call or text him back EVER (including on Christmas Day when he left a nice voice message) would send a hint the size of the two holes in my leg yesterday’s skin biopsy left.
Oh, and *sigh* there. Am I really at the age where I can say “biopsy” like it’s a goddamned eyebrow plucking?
I don’t want to hurt this guy. But Jesus Christ dude, stop putting me in a position where that’s what’s going to happen.
And maybe that’s what happened with Jupiter. He invited me out. He wined and dined me. He said and did all the right things that made me think he was trying to win ME over.
Not just any girl. But things that made ME swoon. Because, he asked lots of questions and didn’t forget a thing. I mean, he read my horoscope every day. WHO DOES THAT?
Yet, fine, maybe I fell a little too hard. That the 40-year-old “love” virgin here finally had her emotional cherry popped.
With a sledgehammer.
Fine. I knew when to walk away and knew when to run.
Why doesn’t this one?
And I know, I know. First-world problems. Having someone to love and want you. For a change. A nice change. Yet …
“If you can’t be with the one you love, honey, love the one you’re with” ain’t my gig, man.
I have a mild crush on someone in this world, who is not UF or Jupiter. But God, please oh my loving and wonderful God, don’t turn me into the female equivalent of UF. Help me to let the guy know he has a shot if he wants it, but don’t let me turn into Crazy Town, please?
I just want to tell Jupiter, I think I get it. If he really did want to throw himself under a train at the thought of spending time with me (even if I don’t think that’s ENTIRELY true …), I understand reaching THAT PLACE.
I want him to know I’m in “his” shoes now. And that if I did anything to make his skin crawl off his body, I’m sorry he felt that way toward me.
I think UF thinks he’s going to get a girlfriend out of this. And I want a boyfriend, too. But … I want to be available when the right one comes along.
Nothing wrong with dating, yes. And I’m happy to do that. But … not with someone I’m going to have to hurt.
Maybe that was the thing with Jupiter after all. I think his problems were bigger than having a goddess at his side. I don’t think he could handle the divinity plus whatever was going on in his head/world.
It’s not that we were doomed; it’s that HE doomed it.
And maybe I’m dooming the UF thing. But isn’t that my right, to remember that I’d rather be alone than wish I were and know, here, I’d wish I were alone so why not just avoid stepping in anything that’s going to leave a stain and a funny smell in its aftermath?