Jun 04 2008
∞
Devin, de facto
I know I’ve done nothing but reblog people these past few days. I’m sorry. Soon my life will become less like it is now and I’ll go back to thinking/feeling/writing again. Right now, all I can think about is myself, and not in an introspective, revealing, and potentially interesting way.
I have to say, however, that this is one of the most real and raw things I’ve read on tumblr recently.
I’ve been here before, Katrina. Thank you for sharing. I hope you get your parliaments and Gilmore Girls. Take care.
I just shouldn’t have called him, and I shouldn’t have thought that it would be any different than it was before.
In tears, I quickly said good-bye, hung up without listening for a response and, without a second thought, marched to the bathroom and shaved every offending hair off my body, leaving only my arms and head spared. If I can’t have control over one aspect of my life, I demand more in another. Even the slightest stubble is subpar. It wasn’t much of a catharsis, but then again I didn’t ask it to be. I merely wanted something to bend to my will, and this time it was the razor and the pits of my arms, my legs, my nether regions.
I showered for a half hour, not caring at all that I was wasting water or keeping up my roommates. For once, I don’t want to have consideration or compassion. I even took a little bit of conditioner from my flatmate after finishing off the bottle of coconut.
I finished with a flourish: plucking my eyebrows with little mercy and almost vengefully. The more pain, the better, for it would bring tears, and tears at least give me some kind of emotion other than indifference.
I rubbed cocoa butter all over my naked self, wishing he would call back so I could answer, scream at him, and hang up. Or just ignore him. Though I know he will now ignore me for at least a week, then pretend it never happened. I don’t know why I continue, other than to repeat this cycle and perhaps write even more songs about how I can’t stop writing songs about him.
In the comfort of my pink pants and white tank, I decided it was finally time to eat after barely paying attention to my body’s needs these past few days, ever since I have seen him. A pack of Saltines over two day’s time was enough to suffice me, until now.
I decided nothing but meat was good enough. Hamburger sizzling on the stove. Corn. A glass of wine that I knew would make me as good as drunk from not having had a real meal in so long.
And here I am. I’m not quite sure how I feel, but I know I am dejected, downtrodden, and definitely ready to be over Devin.