Go ahead.

Seduce me.

Convince me I’m special, wonderful, a light in the darkness, effulgent and unique and magical. It is lovely that I can believe it for a few hours, perhaps even a week. Or, in some cases, years.

I will let myself fall in love with you from across a crowded bar. I will let you take me forcibly. I will kneel and gratefully lick your boots. I will work for you for hours. I will take any amount of pain you care to dish out. I will cry and sob and accept terrible debasement. I will travel thousands of miles, across continents and oceans to be with you. I will give up friends and sleep and pets and do all of that willingly because it pleases you. I will compromise myself because that version of me is more palatable to you. I will let you have me on your terms, not mine. I will sip from the edges of your life, with bird feet, as to not impose.


Be brilliant and charming and handsome or goofy or sexy and beautiful. Be slender or solid. Be short, tall, wide and jiggly or hard as packed earth. You don’t even have to be emotionally available. Outsmart me. You don’t have to give me much. Just look my way occasionally. Pick me up, dust me off, and make me feel beautiful. Convince me you care. Tell me I’m different. Let me live in that place.

For a moment.

Isn’t that all any of us can expect in life? This moment?

And this?

And this?

How dare I expect you to promise me your time? A phone call? A scene, a text message? An email? Your heart?

Are we not all just struggling in the dark? Who do I think I am, expecting to be special to you, when you have so many, many many people to make. Feel: special?

So, thank you.

Thank you for that moment. For those years of longing. For bad habits I let myself cling to. For permitting me room to bathe in slickly sick self-esteem, waiting for the next rescuer to pull me out and make me feel worthy.

Eventually, I will tire of waiting. I will grow weary of the emotional speedball of your quickshot attentions surging through my veins only to be followed by the abysmal crash of loneliness when the heart-stunning light of your attention dims, or turns away.

Eventually, this sludgy wallow will dry up, and I’ll unstick myself.

And I’ll rinse off the muck myself. And I’ll see what so many others see, and I’ll believe it myself.

And I won’t. Need. You.

But I will still want you.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...


  1. Krissy on January 20, 2010 at 8:18 AM

    Oh darling. I love you so much. I understand that my love doesn’t make any dent at all in these feelings, but it exists nonetheless. I wish I could help you find the right person. I wish that you would find what you want.

  2. bailey on January 20, 2010 at 12:09 PM

    The wanting never stops, trust me.

    But you can revise your expectations. Even if it feels that means you will be single for the rest of your life, because that’s how it feels. Again.

  3. Kyle on February 2, 2010 at 10:55 AM

    oh wow.. that was beautifully painful and painfully beautiful. So much aching and need and frustration.. I hate how some particular people in our lives hold so much power over us. They don’t really deserve it, but that hold remains, sometimes in the background, known but not felt, sometimes surprisingly and painfully in the foreground.

    big butch hugs to you, darlin
    .-= Kyle´s most recent blog moment of Zen on the net was…Microfantasy Monday, week 65: Books =-.
    .-= Kyle´s most recent blog moment of Zen on the net was…Microfantasy Monday, week 65: Books =-.