Speak now, or forever shut my trap?
Mercury Retrograde is good for one thing: telling people off creatively.
Especially for us Mercury-ruled types, we should just duct-tape our mouths for three weeks at a time, three or four times a year. Because shit comes out that you have been muffling for months or even years.
Or as I admitted to someone (because yes, I do blurt shit out that I shouldn’t), it’s also a wonderful time to let things escape under the guise of, “Oh dear! How did THAT pop into my head (and out of my mouth)?” *innocent look*
My poor mother has heard everything I’ve been squelching since my grandfather died six years ago this week. And it ain’t pretty. She’s in hiding in her bedroom right now. AND I CAN FINALLY WRITE AND BLEED MY DAMN WOUNDS. HOORAY!
The thing is, she knows how to push every goddamn button I have. Sometimes, all at the same time. I can identify this because I do the same damn thing to her. And yesterday it was like throwing a shut-in on the whole piano keyboard. The noise is horrific and every button is stuck in depressed mode.
And boy does that last sentence say it all!
Speaking of Depressed, Meet Topo Gigio
Most of you don’t remember Topo Gigio, the mouse from “The Ed Sullivan Show.” I don’t either, actually. But that’s one of the names I call one of the “men” in my life.
And yesterday, he pretty much took a hammer to the last remaining button I had left standing when it comes not just to him, but to humanity.
This after I had received the most-wonderful e-mail from someone I knew and liked very much from my younger years. The timing was uncanny, really. I was on top of the world and recognizing my value to others when Topo thought he could wipe his ass on my world.
It will be the LAST time he does that. Because I can do better. I have always been able to do better. I just seem to have forgotten that because everyone has gone on to other people and I remain the asshole who is still alone.
But you know what? I’m probably the happiest asshole of them all because of that single state!
‘I Saw Goodbye in Her Eyes’
I’m borrowing this subhead from the new Zac Brown song. The thing is, I saw goodbye in Topo’s eyes a long time ago. And he flares up every now and again and, I’m ashamed to admit, I wonder if he’s finally had enough of his shitty choices that leave him isolated from normal people.
Rather, I’m ashamed to admit that I HOPE he’s coming to his senses before I put the epitaph on this entanglement. Which, again, that day was yesterday.
I haven’t seen him in a while. Because, well, distance really does make the heart grow fonder in two distinct ways:
1. He misses me and wants to see me.
2. I miss him until I spend time with him. Then, I’m good for a good long while.
I got an e-mail from him on Wednesday not saying he missed me. But saying that whenever I can free myself up, he’d love to do lunch or coffee or something.
OK.
So yesterday morning, we were texting back-and-forth about the usual pile of social, political and otherwise-surface issues that fill our conversations these days. (Since he has backtracked on everything he’s ever said to me personally. Easier to keep the truth straight, I guess, when the topic stays on national affairs.)
I was out and about, feeding my fur-niece and otherwise enjoying the pre-babysitting (Mom) gig that would eat up the entire rest of my day.
And thinking, OK, he said to tell him when I’m not busy, I said hey — I’m going to grab java after I spend some time with the cat. I’m by the highway. Want to take an hour to grab coffee with me? I’ll come to you.
Deja Vu All Over Again. And Again
I should know better. But, you know, maybe I’m sick of the only time we connect is when he is feeling like he’s off the leash that HE PUTS HIMSELF ON.
Seriously, he hangs himself with it. And you know what? Nobody gives a good God damn. Suffering is kind of pointless if nobody is witnessing it, yes?
The man’s got more excuses than China’s got rice. Yet he found another grain.
Funny thing was, he was heading down to the same fucking exit where I was doing my cat-sitting. But lo, raincheck! Eight Starbucks stores and three Dunkins in the six-block radius separated my whereabouts from his destination. But Jesus God no, he did not initiate the invitation so it is null and void!
I was stalking his whore online the other day. And I thought, hmm, she has a really cool Pinterest profile. We would probably be friends if I cared to associate with riff-raff. But that ain’t ever gonna happen.
I looked at her photo and thought, wow — that’s a face only a dumbass could love!
Or, more to the point …
A Face Only Dumbass Can Love
Understand, I’m not jealous. I actually hope these star-crossed nitwits can find their way together. But I think Whoreicane looks pretty happy with no mention of him anywhere or in any of her vast amounts of photos.
And I don’t think he can actually handle her. Like I said, I see parallels between myself and hoebag. I mean, he’s lowered his standards considerably on the looks front and even with the coherence front on that one. But I don’t think he can upkeep something like that.
Nay, I think she’ll get bored, or wait till he comes to his senses and finds somebody better. Frankly I think the only thing she loves is herself. And I’m not typically wrong about these things.
And forget me — I’ve made a return trip to my senses and closed the borders. So I think Raggedy Ass will be the lucky beneficiary. Since, of course, that’s where he was headed when he couldn’t come out and play yesterday.
Anyway, he said he was babysitting her dogs. And I was thisclose to saying, “Have fun with the dogs … and the canines!” Referring to her and her roommie, of course.
But …
I like that he thinks I’m so damn nice. (Clearly he has missed out on Caterwauling.com so far. Thank God.) I don’t want to say something shitty like that and have it be what he remembers me by. (Like I remember all the bad stuff.)
Again, but …
I thought of the whole “Speak Now or Forever Hold Your Peace” thing. Not that I plan to be around for that. But … WHO THE FUCK DOES HE THINK HE IS?
I can see rejecting me if he thought I was trying to get back to where we were heading, once upon a time. Trust me, the man is his own sequel to “He’s Just Not That Into You.” I get it, dude. Really.
But Jesus, I don’t need friends who are so married to the idea of possibly being disloyal to someone who doesn’t even know/care about their whereabouts at any given time that they can’t even hang with their platonic friends.
That’s why I’ve often said that he cared too much. (And punished me for it.) It’s not that he doesn’t trust ME around him … it’s that he doesn’t trust HIMSELF around me.
And, well, we girls DO HAVE WAYS OF SHUTTING THAT DOWN* YOU KNOW.
(*Actually I hate to pull out the Repug pro-rape-pregnancy line. Because he’s a Democrat and I do admit liberal guys do it better!)
OK, so for the punchline to all this …
Do I take advantage of Retrograde to unleash the verbal demons and be heard across hell’s half-acre … or continue being sweet and letting him kick his own ass when he realizes what an absolute shit he’s been to me?
Because, he will. I KNOW he will. That’s the funny thing about knowing someone inside and out. You can put a timeline on things. I say by the 2014 election cycle when we rid ourselves of Gov. Rick Scott.
He’s going to get what’s coming to him … and he’s going to DESERVE IT. (And not just “Pink Slip Rick,” although I look forward to helping that to come about, too.)
I don’t wish him ill. I don’t even wish him gone. I just wish that he could change his own destiny somehow, because “alone” is going to be a very lonely place when you’re not the one choosing it.
And maybe that’s what I’m doing at home. I had to beg for alone time today. After a yelling match where I was pushed to the absolute brink. Again, I don’t wish anybody ill — I wish they’d give me my damn space already. Once in a while, anyway. And not after they’ve pushed me to meltdown status.
We’re alike in that way, he and I. We’ll come around again when we need some companionship. Difference is, I see how we could be each other’s cheering section, support group and — I dunno — FRIEND.
But this half-assed shit isn’t good enough for me anymore. And the goodbye is definitely in my eyes. Question is, does he see it?