4pm and I finally sank into my chair after a mad afternoon where everything was an emergency. As I sat slurping soggy noodles from 4 hours ago and sipping from my paper cup of cold masala chai latte, I smiled.
Sure it was a late lunch, but it warmed me to remember how this morning you left the banh mi shop mumbling something about answering nature’s call, but returned minutes later with my favourite sweet cuppa - piping hot as I curled my fingers around it. I squealed excitedly, and you leaned forward on the table and beamed, knowing you brought a little spark to my day.
Fast forward to 4pm, as I swirl the dark specks of cinnamon at the bottom of the cup. I chuckled silently. Maybe happiness comes in shapes and forms you don’t expect.
I’m tired of feeling like I’m hankering after something that doesn’t want me as much as I want it.
And it’s not your fault necessarily. Why am I so needy? Why don’t I feel like I can be alone and happy?
Why do I expect you to make time for me? And when you don’t, why do I feel like I have to prove that I’m totally cool with being by myself? Why do I feel like I don’t want to respond to you anymore because “you started it”?
I really want to be my exuberant self with you and not weigh out my communication intensity; worrying if I’m putting myself out there too much. Risking too much. What if I look silly? I hate that I think about these things.
I also wish you’d know I don’t care for intermittent missives. Occasional “I miss yous” trying to correct your hunch that I’m not impressed, that don’t result in an effort to make time for me. Those, and gifts, do the exact reverse of what you intended to appease me. I just think (infrequent) talk is cheap. If you wanted to know how I was, I wish you would just text me without me prompting you, badgering almost. I hate bugging you.
We all need some genuine love. I’m tired.
I can’t forget the glamor
Your eyes held a tender light
And stars fractured ‘Bama
I never planned in my imagination
A situation so heavenly
A fairy land where no one else could enter
And in the center just you and me
My heart beat just like a hammer
Arms wound around you tight
While stars fell on Alabama
Worst day ever.
Are you done?
Yeah in a few minutes
Wanna swing by?
The day wound down and neon lights flickered on. Dodging traffic was a sport, and so was side-stepping lusty stares as I tugged at my top.
I arrived at your doorstep and kicked a pebble or two while waiting. You swung the door open and gave me an exuberant hug.
"Come with me! I need some company to turn everything off." You really didn’t, but you knew I was the needy one.
As we trudged to dinner, you indulged my rants and never questioned me, even though I’m sure there were some. All through the meal, you listened and nodded somemore.
You said you were tired and to take a cab. Maybe it was more for my sake. The moment I got in the seat, you pulled my head in your lap, wrapping your arms around me. Happy, fed and warm, I quickly fell into a blissful slumber. From my apartment at midnight, I watched you hurry home, knowing you still had a couple hours’ more of work to do. But you never rushed me, and still took time to kiss me goodnight and let me play with your overgrown hair.
Thank you for loving me. I am incredibly blessed.
Am I a big screw up?
I thought I did well. What happens when someone you respect tells you, Melodie, that did not go well. What happens when you don’t see it?
I thought it was fine. What is the problem with me? Am I blind? Why does she think I shouldn’t have done it that way?
I thought it went okay. Maybe I do suck. Maybe I should just shut up and not say anything. Why can’t I see it? Why does this torment me so much? What is wrong with me?
Maybe when you question even your judgment, you question your very fibre.
Why do I need so much affirmation anyway? It hurts. Make it stop. ARGH. Stop it Mel. Stop it. Stop thinking.
Sometimes I’m terrified of your towering high standards. I’m afraid you’ll shoot my ideas down, have them blown to smithereens and fed to the lions, if they’re even fit for that.
I’m afraid of trying too hard. When you don’t respond, when you don’t make the effort to check in on me. Will it kill you to say hey babe how are you?
I’m tired of waiting, constantly. Stop over promising me. If you can’t make it, fine. Let me know. If you are going to be late, no problem but let me know so I stop expecting you to round the corner. Each person I see at the station makes me jump because I think it’s you. It never is you on time.
Maybe it’s pride. Maybe I’m sizing you up for future. Where are you my love? You’ve vanished behind a wall of work. Or so you say…
At 2am, I made instant noodles. I haven’t had or whipped up a bowl of snapchat comfort in years, and this was really a last resort.
But it was so carnally satisfying. No frills. Just 2 minutes in a frothing pot, remove, powder packs over, stir, slurp. No fancy eggs or feel good scallions. Just plain old noodles following instructions. I’m in a food coma now, semi concussed on the bed.
Dreams of eggs…
The more I see you,
The more I want you.
Somehow this feeling
Just grows and grows.
With every sigh I become more mad about you,
More lost without you,
And so it goes.
Can you imagine
How much I’ll love you
The more I see you
As years go by?
I know the only one for me can only be you.
My arms won’t free you;
My heart won’t try.