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ysobelleSo a friend came by tonight to pick up a bodice for someone up at S. We chatted a little about the show, and he told me they've had to come up with a reason why he's going to be so much better-dressed than the prince he serves. I swear to G-d, I actually started to cry, standing there in the doorway. Not just because I was sad-- I was, heartbreakingly so-- but because I'm also so white-hot, incandescently enraged still, and so bitter. And nothing's finished, either. They're throwing things at whoever can finish them, and one person's already told me her costume's disappeared. G-d. All my work, unraveled like a cheap sweater. Fuck.
Niko would probably say something like, "See, you're saying you're over it, but you're still talking about it." As if somehow I didn't know. For the most part I am, but it's still like seeing someone else raise your child. G-d help me if I ever have kids and get divorced.
Also this morning, I realised, like suddenly realising there's a knife lodged in you somewhere, that one week from today-- well, six days, now-- it will be six months since she (not Niko) died. I started looking for her this week several times, wanting to call her, to reach for her. Perhaps my subconscious recognised the anniversary even though I didn't, but I doubt my subconscious is quite as on-the-ball as all that. It doesn't help that I'm being tossed back and forth by several rescue groups, teasing me and leading me on. Makes it very hard to keep the lid on tight. The one clear thought I had this morning, that struck me like sunlight, was that my heart is still broken. It was almost a relief to admit it-- to recognise that no, I haven't cast her off so easily, that any grief over my perceived callousness was unfounded. Oh, the many delicate layers of and uses for guilt. I guess I'm genetically predisposed to being able to navigate them so carefully.
On a lighter note, I spent a good couple of hours online chatting with R. I looked up Fez, and it looks a smashing place. I think...I think this weekend I shall endeavour to see if his hair is as soft as it looks. And I shall think no further than that! Wench Chat Tuesday quickly devolved into Gideon on one side shouting "Legolas!" and me on the other responsively screaming, "FUCK YOU!" Perhaps you had to be there. It was funny at the time, and I do swear to that. I should point out the topic was immensely improved by Betty suggestively whispering, "Leather...." in my other ear. Again, perhaps if you'd been there....
_I've_ never been here before. It's a very strange architecture, isn't it? It would certainly be nice to have a signpost or two. Or three.
Niko would probably say something like, "See, you're saying you're over it, but you're still talking about it." As if somehow I didn't know. For the most part I am, but it's still like seeing someone else raise your child. G-d help me if I ever have kids and get divorced.
Also this morning, I realised, like suddenly realising there's a knife lodged in you somewhere, that one week from today-- well, six days, now-- it will be six months since she (not Niko) died. I started looking for her this week several times, wanting to call her, to reach for her. Perhaps my subconscious recognised the anniversary even though I didn't, but I doubt my subconscious is quite as on-the-ball as all that. It doesn't help that I'm being tossed back and forth by several rescue groups, teasing me and leading me on. Makes it very hard to keep the lid on tight. The one clear thought I had this morning, that struck me like sunlight, was that my heart is still broken. It was almost a relief to admit it-- to recognise that no, I haven't cast her off so easily, that any grief over my perceived callousness was unfounded. Oh, the many delicate layers of and uses for guilt. I guess I'm genetically predisposed to being able to navigate them so carefully.
On a lighter note, I spent a good couple of hours online chatting with R. I looked up Fez, and it looks a smashing place. I think...I think this weekend I shall endeavour to see if his hair is as soft as it looks. And I shall think no further than that! Wench Chat Tuesday quickly devolved into Gideon on one side shouting "Legolas!" and me on the other responsively screaming, "FUCK YOU!" Perhaps you had to be there. It was funny at the time, and I do swear to that. I should point out the topic was immensely improved by Betty suggestively whispering, "Leather...." in my other ear. Again, perhaps if you'd been there....
_I've_ never been here before. It's a very strange architecture, isn't it? It would certainly be nice to have a signpost or two. Or three.
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Date: 2003-04-11 12:22 am (UTC)It's fun!
Get the lamb with honey. Yummy!
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Date: 2003-04-11 07:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-15 12:41 pm (UTC)