Sunday, October 29, 2006
"When your heart is an empty room."
Last night I looked hot. Seriously. Dressed as a serving wench for a Halloween party and laced tight into a corset, my ample bosom rose into a swell of cleavage that was not only awe inspiring, but should have had me flat on my back, dress pushed up around my waist. In other words, I looked fuckable. Any reasonable person would have tossed me into the bedroom and locked the door. But since I was with Holly, reason was in short supply.
There comes a point in a young woman's life when she realizes that she can't make someone love them no matter how hard she tries. It's a heartbreaking realization and my heart is breaking a little bit. I wish I could somehow explain my very complicated feelings for Holly and why I haven't been able to let go when I should have cut my losses long ago. Some of you think that I'm crazy especially since this has been going on for a while now. Why her? Why so much self inflicted consternation?
I had a brief view of how things could have been in the days after Provincetown. The connection was there loud and clear. No barriers. No interference. I finally saw what I had fought for, like the satisfying view from the top of Mount Everest, and I was the happiest I had been in a very long time. That, my friends, is why I wasn't able to let go. That sole belief that if you cleared away all the bullshit things would be amazing.
I can't keep fighting anymore. I can't make her love me. I probably have a better shot of convincing New York of my awesomeness. One day she'll realize that she had a shot at a really good thing, but I will have moved on.
So attention single lesbians of New York! Here I am. I'm not asking for much. Just to be loved and occasionally dragged into the bedroom when I'm dressed as a serving wench. I'll even make you pancakes in the morning after you have your way with me.
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4 comments:
Any woman who doesn’t love an ample-bosomed serving wench is, clearly, crazy. And not the good kind of crazy. Add in the promise of post-coital pancakes and you have the quintessential offer that can’t be refused. I say ahead with OWAS and away with crazy Holly.
Which New York are you trying to convince of your awesomeness? Do you mean Tiffany Patterson!? Wah ha ha!
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tiffany_Patterson
Oh, and I love you.
I love you too, Mr. Bad Apologies.
Can you update your blog already? I'm kind of tired of looking at your boobs...
;)
Maryment
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