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Lusty Lady

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Tuesday, June 07, 2011


Count me amongst the women who don't know exactly when they're gonna get their periods, but can usually pin it to the urge to cry, another topic that's been all over the blogs lately.

I started to tell not even a story, but a brief mention about this one situation tonight and I totally started to tear up, which would not be the end of the world except it's so not the first time and the rational part of me doesn't understand it and there's this other part of me that, well, also doesn't understand it but thinks it's all tragic and star-crossed and other things that it's really not. But it is sad. Or rather, it makes me sad. And I'm starting to see that sometimes that's just where I have to be, in that sadness, as apart from jealousy, as apart from trying to explain the sadness or rationalize it or try to make it better. Sometimes feelings are hard, which is the kind of simplistic statement I'm trying to wean myself from making on a personal blog, but there's not that much more to say about it. And as public as this post is, as public (okay, maybe more so) as the Starbucks I'm sitting in crying, there's a part of trying to mourn that relationship that is so utterly private and personal I don't know if anyone else would understand, and frankly, don't really care.

The old me would've said that it was someone else making me cry, but that's not it, not exactly. I don't really know why, though I'm going to take a wild guess I'm about to get my period in the next few days. Maybe even thinking about this person will always have some crazed effect on me. I hope not, because that would be highly impractical and frustrating, but at the end of the day, I'd rather be a girl who feels strongly than weakly, who takes the low moments to get to the high ones, even if I can't pick and choose which I get to experience and at what times. And sometimes, like, say, now, when I'm alone, not at a dinner table and actually with nobody looking at me, even if I am at a coffeeshop, as perverse as it is, it feels good to cry, to just go there as opposed to telling myself I shouldn't act or feel a certain way. Though I think now would be a time when I'd love to curl up next to a cat. In lieu of that, I have my Hello Kitty pillow.


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