Sad Sadder Saddest
Today I left the hippie chiro feeling kind of sad because I was thinking of him and how bad I want to be kissed by him. But it was a beautiful day and I didn't have anywhere to be, so I decided to go check out the vintage clothing store I have passed so many days before. I ended up with this red and white striped dress that caused the gay guy to exclaim how well my shoulders filled the dress. Yes, I have big shoulders, And he said he had the same problem with his dresses.
Anyway, his fervor led me to buy the dress; I got as worked up as he was, and I felt like a schoolgirl playing dress-up with an old friend. My excitement lasted even after I left the store, and I couldn't wait to get home and shave my legs so I could wear it to school. It was going to be a good day. I read the mail outside in the sun, and nearly fell asleep in the warmth. It was nice. It was a nice day.
When I started to get ready for school, I got excited again about my new dress. I was hoping for the same reaction from him as I'd gotten from the fun gay guy at the store. I was sorely disappointed. I walked in, he looked up with a 'Hey, you're dressed up' and promptly returned his nose to his papers. I wasn't even sure if I was welcome to join him. But I did anyway. I set my backback down before sitting, trying to give him another chance to notice my new requisition. Failed. I remember when he used to notice when I bought a new pair of socks or earrings, much less a whole dress. And I was sad again.
Because I'm unnoticeable. So I sat, wondering if he was going to look up at all and bother himself with me. I started going through the envelope in my hand and thinking about whether or not I should have come here at all. And he finally looks up and asks me 'So what are you doing here?' like I've ruined his plans or something. And I'm sadder.
We talk about a few things here and there, and the conversation sputters into him looking for rescue from people from class. I thought I had come prepared with lots of conversation topics: the teaching job, the evaluations, the trip to France, the school gossip, the new dress (although that one had been obliterated as soon as I arrived). He asks about a hotel in the Midwest so he can go visit the mother of the woman he loves instead of me and he might as well slap me across the face.
I'm here and he can't even concentrate on the fact that this is ME because he is so busy thinking about the person that really matters to him and taking trips to boring places as a result of her and I wonder about his alterior motives for visiting the mother. I also wonder why I am so boring to him again. Capturing his attention is nearly impossible now, and I don't even know why I still try. And I'm saddest.
I'm hopeless. Pathetic. There is no reason for me to believe that my life will ever be different. That I will ever feel loved in Paris.
Anyway, his fervor led me to buy the dress; I got as worked up as he was, and I felt like a schoolgirl playing dress-up with an old friend. My excitement lasted even after I left the store, and I couldn't wait to get home and shave my legs so I could wear it to school. It was going to be a good day. I read the mail outside in the sun, and nearly fell asleep in the warmth. It was nice. It was a nice day.
When I started to get ready for school, I got excited again about my new dress. I was hoping for the same reaction from him as I'd gotten from the fun gay guy at the store. I was sorely disappointed. I walked in, he looked up with a 'Hey, you're dressed up' and promptly returned his nose to his papers. I wasn't even sure if I was welcome to join him. But I did anyway. I set my backback down before sitting, trying to give him another chance to notice my new requisition. Failed. I remember when he used to notice when I bought a new pair of socks or earrings, much less a whole dress. And I was sad again.
Because I'm unnoticeable. So I sat, wondering if he was going to look up at all and bother himself with me. I started going through the envelope in my hand and thinking about whether or not I should have come here at all. And he finally looks up and asks me 'So what are you doing here?' like I've ruined his plans or something. And I'm sadder.
We talk about a few things here and there, and the conversation sputters into him looking for rescue from people from class. I thought I had come prepared with lots of conversation topics: the teaching job, the evaluations, the trip to France, the school gossip, the new dress (although that one had been obliterated as soon as I arrived). He asks about a hotel in the Midwest so he can go visit the mother of the woman he loves instead of me and he might as well slap me across the face.
I'm here and he can't even concentrate on the fact that this is ME because he is so busy thinking about the person that really matters to him and taking trips to boring places as a result of her and I wonder about his alterior motives for visiting the mother. I also wonder why I am so boring to him again. Capturing his attention is nearly impossible now, and I don't even know why I still try. And I'm saddest.
I'm hopeless. Pathetic. There is no reason for me to believe that my life will ever be different. That I will ever feel loved in Paris.
posted by Ocean | 7:46 PM
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