Tuesday, October 23, 2012

"You're a witch", three year old Audrey, pronounced very differently.

 Your Bette Midler moment, brought to you by Viewers Like You. And PBS.

In the Howl this year, my dance group is performing a routine about witches possessing children, fighting priests and all that awesome halloween junk. Exciting, I know. I get to be a witch and basically just dance like I'm super pissed at everything. It is very satisfying to dance to Batman soundtracks and glare at everyone when it's all I want to do anyways. I probably would have carried a boom box around with it blaring and sulking at everyone anyways, had I not this opportunity. Isn't it odd how temporarily satisfying it is to just baste in your misery? But then three minutes later, you feel far too saturated in the nasty stuff that you want out, but then you're in that painted corner like in the Mormonad and you just want to start all over again? I guess I could search the scripture on the bottom of said Mormonad to find a solution, but it's far too thrilling to just splash paint all around me for the moment. And who doesn't want to be the kid wearing those socks.
Anyways. I'm quite satisfied to be the femme fatale in the Howl. Because I feel like it. I feel like I'm dancing around in a jig pooping in everyone's salads at lunchtime. I'm the heartbreaker. Of someone not deserving. But who deserves to get their heart broken. Besides Ted Bundy. But he'd probably just go on another killing spree in his broken state so maybe not. I know he'll be fine, and I know I'll be fine. But I can still feel like a jerk. Someone who didn't deserve the sweetness she was getting. I need to grow up, figure out my head. It's just a jumble, I don't know what I'm thinking, what I'm feeling, what I'm supposed to be feeling/thinking, what's going on or anything. I'm just listening to Bon Iver and the Staves over and over again to further baste me in my sadness. Isn't it so typical.

The hardest part of this is faith. How am I supposed to get someone like him again. How do I know this was the right thing to do. How am I supposed to face him after his last words are, "I'll leave you alone now." How am I supposed to know that it wasn't the love I'm supposed to base my life off of. Maybe it is and I just threw it away because I'm an idiot and a coward and terrified of anything new.

The only thing keeping me from begging him to hold my hand again is the fact that I didn't deserve it from him, and that he doesn't deserve it from me. I don't deserve his forgiveness or trust, and he doesn't deserve my doubt and anger. So we have to move on. There is no other option. And maybe some day I can grow up and wear big girl panties and deserve someone as amazing as Kevin.

Well, I have to go study rocks now. I know you love me and support me, but just let me be a whiny bum head today that poops in delicious salads, ok?
And I really do know it'll all be ok in the end, so don't leave this post thinking I'm going to go bash my head in with the rocks I'm going to go study. Because I promise I won't. I love Donkey Kong and food and my family and friends too much for that. Because really, I'm quite the fortunate soul and have much to be happy for. :)


Laura Burtis said...

Hey T, I sure do love you okay? Hope you are feeling a little better than this post a couple weeks ago...

Anonymous said...