Kitchen

little un tolds…

i awoke today to a memory…I was walking into a bar in the Grove..I was looking at a guy in a booth…he had a pitcher of beer in front of him… I was scared and angry and attracted to this person all at once- he was you.

I was .at this bar on a mission. I was there to tell you to fuck off and to never talk to me again and to tell you that what ever you do moving forward -with whoever…don’t lie….like you did to me.

I approached you..I was light and free and I graceful I think and i sat at the wooden booth in the bar -I believe it was called Flamingo and I wondered…I wondered….how such a cute guy could screw me over so hard and how I doubled down that being screwed by marrying another guy just to hammer it home.

So i am married sitting across from you …begrudgingly married to a wanker whose limp arms held me when I cried -when you didn’t come…men had so much importance in my life…i had a great father…too great.

I was bad at rejection bc I had no moderation…I was with you a 10000% or I was not – and even if I was kissing other guys while I awaited your supposed arrival I was sure it was bc you told me we weren’t dating and i suppose that in that no dating you were free to go back on your promise…your promise that led me to falling for you in the first place.

I promise…I’ll visit….fall in love with me….bc I won’t not follow through…and yet it was a summer fling and should have stayed a summer fling but I like to drag things on…and so I did till this morning some 22 years later and here is why

Because those little lies an un tells they are part of you…as you move through your day and I don’t walk the dog with you and hear your thoughts…I am out of the loop…I am fine about it…don’t worry about your details and yet..the finding out of these details….later…that begins to remind me how you once lied and never came to visit..

That you were deceptive

That you are a man

That you are human

That you are independent of me

That I …I am independent of you

and this money in my account that I earned one way or another is not your money and that

that separates us and it is new this seperations this un jointedness that causes me to awake to memories of the un-telling but then I have to reset it…reset it…as reality and nothing more than normal and

It is I that needs to watch my work and my step and my focus my intentions with others in my life

enough of this one…worry wart….enough of that one…bussier than I …enough of me and you and all of us…

I pay my workers…my artist…I pay them for their creativity.

And I pay you to not mind my desire to know…if we fall apart we will return again….as always…attached at the hip is not my liking so here we go…details be not known…

I will keep a few in my pocket just to feel like I am sound and safe with my self…