A Telling Prophecy

Appearances are often deceiving

That's what the cookie told me today (04/10/06).

Now I'm not usually one to believe in cookies or other such nonsense, but perhaps I should have paid closer attention to my horoscope back on 10/17/05:

LIBRA: They're far too impulsive for you to even consider a long-term relationship. Right? Well, if it weren't for the fact that they've already made their way into your heart, that might actually be true. But now what?

Unfortunately the stars forgot to point out a few things. Like this:

But it's not like I couldn't figure that out for myself, you know? I mean, "Do you want to do a bump with me?" is not usually the kind of pick-up line I hear (10/22/05).

And that day (11/14/05) when He said He'd call at six, and He called at six - I think that was actually the only time He did something he promised - do you know what I was thinking? Of course you do. What else could I have been thinking?

Do you believe in signs? As I spoke to Him on the phone that day, getting directions to His house, that big moth flew into my garage. I ran out screaming, of course, but the spider that lived in the light fixture jumped out and snared that moth. It fluttered in it's death throes and I watched the show standing just outside the door.

How fitting, I thought at the time.

And now? The dessicated shell of the moth lies in the recycling bin under the light. Nearly colorless now, just a chitinous form, but still maintaining the shape that brings out irrational fears in me. The spider is still there, living in the light. And now almost half a year into this I still haven't figured out who was the spider and who was the moth.

But there I was, and again two days later, and again the next day. That day. That was to be the day. Funny, I didn't even care. I knew what I was doing. (Sort of.) A lack of planning meant certain things didn't quite work out. Unfinished business, He called it.

And there was our mistake. Because on that day I was just some girl. But then two days later, in the cold sweat palsy of withdrawl, something changed. I held Him up, standing there in between the kitchen and the living room, me leaning against the bar. "If I stay here holding you I'll..." and He trailed off. That was the moment. I became more than just some girl. And the three words that would plague us for the next 140 days were uttered by Him for the first time.

Goddamnit.

And when the business got finished (12/03/05) it was too late. This wasn't going to be what I thought it was. (Or was it?) How complicated things can get, and how quickly. But I was free to do what I wanted. One more unencumbered moment (12/08/05) and a week later I would send myself to hell and back.

There is only one plan and it involves this... The Screw of Damnation!
I found it behind the Armoire...
of Despair.

When I decided that it was time (12/15/05) - or rather, when I backed myself into a corner - I made the decision, but didn't even come close to sticking to it. (12/28/05, 1/15/06, 2/1/06).

But I finally had enough of my own stupidity and I ended things. Or so I thought. The day was rather accidental (2/14/06). And four days later there she was. And eight days after that there I was, in tears like a damn fool. At my friend's house, the house where it all started. And there I made my declaration, which I stuck to this time - at least I stuck to part of it.

In between then and now there have been uspets, false starts, hatred, love, jealousy - everything so stupid, so foolish, so unbecoming. In a fit of emotion, and for the first time, that phrase came squeaking from my crying maw (3/05/06). But the day I changed, really, really changed was when my dear friend said, "Which one of the four girls you're hustling is calling now?" That - and I took myself off the list (3/19/06).

Off.

And I said to Him, "I don't want to be one of them - I want to be the friend who's laughing at them."

I tried to keep a friendship but I know that won't work. I want to keep the last time, it was such a good time, in my memory. Everything was right. I made, in my own mind, an atonement, and I was happy three times over (4/05/06). I almost ruined it two days later, and though there was a fight, I'm not giving over.

He has been in my phone as "EID", "Lost Cause", "Prevaricator", "DO NOT CALL", and finally, "Hustler". It's like an awareness developed over time, that caller ID.

Hustler. That's a name He hates. Somehow I have managed to hustle the hustler a little bit. But experience wins every time. My best is to show that despite the rough handling, the package is undamaged.

It's not like I wasn't warned. And warned repeatedly.

I thought this would be fun.

I thought I was smart.

I thought I was resilient.

Guess I was wrong about a lot of things.

At least someone will get some enjoyment out of all this:

Always,

S