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There are days (and this is one of them) when I feel like a vast chasm of need, like I'm having a full body toothache, when I want to be cossetted and emailed and chatted up, when I have to tell myself that I'm not seven anymore, I don't throw tempertantrums because I can't identify my need and bad attention isn't really better than no intention at all.
I used to try to shake these moods, as if they could somehow be outrun or outwitted. I used to drive too fast in these moods, drink beer or black russians, smoke too much, pick fights with whomever was around to fight with. I used to write mostly-bitter poetry, shoplift black eyeliner, eat food straight from the can.
But now I'm 37, I have a mortgage, a marriage, a future in addition to all that past I'm carrying around. Now I have pets, and furniture, and obligations. I have good friends. I don't need to set anything on fire. I'm learning more about where my edges are, and how to step back from them. I have a nephew, I have taza chocolate, I have choices. I don't want to be that girl anymore, quite frankly, she bores me.
But I'm twitchy tonight, cat in a room full of rocking chairs, wanting more validation, wanting lj comments, wanting want, taking myself far too seriously. But I have to get up tomorrow at 5:45 and the cats are swarming to be fed, and I'd prefer to end the evening with my absurd dog and my lovely husband. So there, melodramatic internal monologue, so there.
I used to try to shake these moods, as if they could somehow be outrun or outwitted. I used to drive too fast in these moods, drink beer or black russians, smoke too much, pick fights with whomever was around to fight with. I used to write mostly-bitter poetry, shoplift black eyeliner, eat food straight from the can.
But now I'm 37, I have a mortgage, a marriage, a future in addition to all that past I'm carrying around. Now I have pets, and furniture, and obligations. I have good friends. I don't need to set anything on fire. I'm learning more about where my edges are, and how to step back from them. I have a nephew, I have taza chocolate, I have choices. I don't want to be that girl anymore, quite frankly, she bores me.
But I'm twitchy tonight, cat in a room full of rocking chairs, wanting more validation, wanting lj comments, wanting want, taking myself far too seriously. But I have to get up tomorrow at 5:45 and the cats are swarming to be fed, and I'd prefer to end the evening with my absurd dog and my lovely husband. So there, melodramatic internal monologue, so there.
