Saturday, May 3, 2008

Morning Becomes Her

I have a very intimate relationship with Fear. Sometimes, we flirt. I bat my eyelashes, he gives me one of them sly smiles, and I blush. Sometimes, we hold hands. Sometimes, we meet in the dark and things get hot and sweaty and my heart beats quick and I can hardly breathe and I'm done for; I'm all his. We've been spending a lot of time together lately. My mom is suspicious. She asked me what was wrong yesterday and when I mumbled, "Nothing," she said, "Look at me and tell me that."

Last night, Fear came to cuddle on the couch with me at work (he's such a smooth talker he can make his way into anywhere) and I gave a nervous giggle and pulled away. I'm not that kind of girl, at least, I try not to be. But he was insistent, and already I could feel my heart beat a little faster. So I turned and I looked at Fear, all smug and huge, yapping at me non-stop, talking circles, repeating himself, taking up most of the couch, leaving me smashed into a tiny corner, and I got a little mad. I pulled out my book and began to write. I remembered hearing once that our brains are only able to hold two or three thoughts simultaneously and so, I began listing all the places in my life where Fear was hanging out, especially the places he met me with his good friend Failure. I was merciless. I wrote every point I could think of and then, I stopped and looked hard at that list. It wasn't as long as I thought it would be. It wasn't as terrible. It wasn't as hopeless.
I looked at Fear again and my list again, turned to him, pulled my boots on, then kicked him in the ass and out the door.

Some nights are good nights and you get to sit in the dark, happy, watching the sky turn light at 5:00 in the morning. Even at 5:00 in the morning the sky is brightening. The same way it does every day.

7 comments:

the hamster said...

love it. fear is a bitch. remind him of that often.

Cherie said...

Nice. A good swift kick. Way to go!

christy said...

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Kimberly said...

Can I borrow them boots?

Cecily said...

Hi Angela... I seem to have lost all my words lately and can't think of the word I want to use here. But I think it is something like precious or poignant... this post is precious.

That sounds all shmaltzy and schmucky...

I appreciated your transparency and fragility here. Thankyou. It is a gift.

(PS we'll be in London next Friday... I know... how exciting! Are you still planning on being there?)

Angela said...

aw, cecily! i still don't know what the heck i'm doing, though i'm pretty sure i'll be in canada next week. pretty sure...
have so, so, so much fun.

Myles said...

I have this chair in the corner of my room that Fear will spend time smoking late at night in. The room smells smoky less these days.