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mynewplaceShe was so empty now.
She had been empty for a while. She couldn't remember exactly when she became empty; sometimes she'd try to focus on the last few months, or weeks, to pinpoint some day or event that drained her, but she never could put her finger on exactly what had caused it. Sometimes something would happen and she could say right then, "Oh god! That just drained me!" But most times it was slow, eventual leakage with the occasional break at the floodgates of emotion, or creativity, or energy. She was composed of so many elements, and an imbalance in any one or two would set her reeling.
It wasn't when she 'ended' things with ... the man. She couldn't bring herself to think of him in any intimate or personal term, he did not belong to her and to use his name gave him power. His name made her shudder, and her nicknames for him only gave him validity in her mind. He didn't deserve validity any more. And yes, she was certain that she hadn't become empty then. She'd been lightened, SO lightened and freed and reprieved, all those wonderful idioms for a weight off her shoulders popped to mind when she thought of the days after she ended things with the man. She'd had a spring in her step for weeks afterward, and a huge smile that won't wipe off your face no matter how hard you try... and suddenly her mind was filled with gentle perky music. She tried to refocus.
Empty. Yes, empty.
Packing the offices without substantial aid was quite draining. The frustration at the bureaucracy and muddlesome order in which the move was handled had been compounded by the feeling of depression over leaving her friends, familiar faces and names and voices, and joining a group that had been relegating her to an afterthought. She'd been important, in her old group. She'd been one of several high ranking secretaries who were known for taking care of business, getting the job done quickly, efficiently and in a satisfactory manner. Employees from all over the group came to her for help, and even employees outside her group, higher up, knew she was the 'go-to' girl for certain items, certain programs, certain ways of getting things done. Now she was just another secretary, in a tiny section that was almost forgotten. She was fighting against the lack of concern and apathy that she sensed growing around her. But the move had not emptied her.
The changes in her home life and the relationship between her and her daughter were draining her. She loved that her daughter was growing and learning so much. But she knew that as the child progressed, she would naturally move a bit away from her mother, because that was the way things should be; and she would encourage the child to do so, reminding her that she was a fount of useful knowledge when the youngster had questions. Encouragement, play, love and release. These were the gifts she would continue to give her child. The addition of a new set of parents in the child's life had made it necessary to step up the child's interpersonal relationship skills and education, and also made it important to discuss sex more often. These things were simple, but taxing in the long run. And worth every moment.
The long silence from the man had been draining her, but she shoved it aside, and valiantly pressed on with her life. After all, that's what she did. She was the one who always survived, who always got on with her life, no matter what her life threw at her. She had a few potential dates who failed her, but she'd found it difficult to muster the energy to maintain interest in most of them, so she didn't really care that they never materialized.
One in particular she thought might have the key. He was smart, funny, considerate and kind. They had no trouble carrying on conversation for an hour or two at a time, and this man seemed to understand that she wasn't interested in tying him down. He suggested dinner and a movie, and she gladly agreed.
But the dinner and a movie didn't happen. The reasons were valid, but the disappointment was valid as well. A sinking feeling crept over her and she tucked it tight beneath her solemn veneer. No date was no matter, she would find a way to use him to offset some of her frustration all the same.
A half-hearted casual invitation was gratefully accepted. When the woman opened the door that night, her heart dropped a little. He was handsome enough, but the spark was missing. She'd really felt there would be a spark present, and she was dismayed as she searched her chest in vain. Nothing. It was no matter, he was there for one reason, and one reason only. And sex was certainly possible without the spark, she'd proven that many times.
She crossed a line that night that she never thought possible. She had invited a man into her home while her child was in bed, with the intention of having sex with him after the child had fallen asleep. The couple watched television for a while, playing and laughing and becoming comfortable with one another. Eventually that comfort moved her body enough to respond to his touch and his kiss, and after checking to make sure the child was asleep, she led him into her bedroom.
The sex was more than satisfactory. But because the spark wasn't present, she could muster no more descriptive phrase. She lay beside him, answering his question about her latest heartbreak, making it as brief and cold as possible. When he launched into his spiel, "Now see? I don't want this to happen with us. I am not looking to fall in love, I don’t want anything serious or emotional or even long term..." she felt the air leave her. "Or even long term"... rang in her head, and she felt the last of her spirit leave as she interrupted him with an aggravated tone.
"I know. I know! I know you don't want me and I don't care, that's not why you're here. I'm sorry I even told you. Just forget it." She rolled over, her back to him, and he continued to talk as if she’d said "So how's the weather."
And that last tiny little bit of self exhaled against the wall, and slipped slowly, slowly down beneath the bed.
She had been empty for a while. She couldn't remember exactly when she became empty; sometimes she'd try to focus on the last few months, or weeks, to pinpoint some day or event that drained her, but she never could put her finger on exactly what had caused it. Sometimes something would happen and she could say right then, "Oh god! That just drained me!" But most times it was slow, eventual leakage with the occasional break at the floodgates of emotion, or creativity, or energy. She was composed of so many elements, and an imbalance in any one or two would set her reeling.
It wasn't when she 'ended' things with ... the man. She couldn't bring herself to think of him in any intimate or personal term, he did not belong to her and to use his name gave him power. His name made her shudder, and her nicknames for him only gave him validity in her mind. He didn't deserve validity any more. And yes, she was certain that she hadn't become empty then. She'd been lightened, SO lightened and freed and reprieved, all those wonderful idioms for a weight off her shoulders popped to mind when she thought of the days after she ended things with the man. She'd had a spring in her step for weeks afterward, and a huge smile that won't wipe off your face no matter how hard you try... and suddenly her mind was filled with gentle perky music. She tried to refocus.
Empty. Yes, empty.
Packing the offices without substantial aid was quite draining. The frustration at the bureaucracy and muddlesome order in which the move was handled had been compounded by the feeling of depression over leaving her friends, familiar faces and names and voices, and joining a group that had been relegating her to an afterthought. She'd been important, in her old group. She'd been one of several high ranking secretaries who were known for taking care of business, getting the job done quickly, efficiently and in a satisfactory manner. Employees from all over the group came to her for help, and even employees outside her group, higher up, knew she was the 'go-to' girl for certain items, certain programs, certain ways of getting things done. Now she was just another secretary, in a tiny section that was almost forgotten. She was fighting against the lack of concern and apathy that she sensed growing around her. But the move had not emptied her.
The changes in her home life and the relationship between her and her daughter were draining her. She loved that her daughter was growing and learning so much. But she knew that as the child progressed, she would naturally move a bit away from her mother, because that was the way things should be; and she would encourage the child to do so, reminding her that she was a fount of useful knowledge when the youngster had questions. Encouragement, play, love and release. These were the gifts she would continue to give her child. The addition of a new set of parents in the child's life had made it necessary to step up the child's interpersonal relationship skills and education, and also made it important to discuss sex more often. These things were simple, but taxing in the long run. And worth every moment.
The long silence from the man had been draining her, but she shoved it aside, and valiantly pressed on with her life. After all, that's what she did. She was the one who always survived, who always got on with her life, no matter what her life threw at her. She had a few potential dates who failed her, but she'd found it difficult to muster the energy to maintain interest in most of them, so she didn't really care that they never materialized.
One in particular she thought might have the key. He was smart, funny, considerate and kind. They had no trouble carrying on conversation for an hour or two at a time, and this man seemed to understand that she wasn't interested in tying him down. He suggested dinner and a movie, and she gladly agreed.
But the dinner and a movie didn't happen. The reasons were valid, but the disappointment was valid as well. A sinking feeling crept over her and she tucked it tight beneath her solemn veneer. No date was no matter, she would find a way to use him to offset some of her frustration all the same.
A half-hearted casual invitation was gratefully accepted. When the woman opened the door that night, her heart dropped a little. He was handsome enough, but the spark was missing. She'd really felt there would be a spark present, and she was dismayed as she searched her chest in vain. Nothing. It was no matter, he was there for one reason, and one reason only. And sex was certainly possible without the spark, she'd proven that many times.
She crossed a line that night that she never thought possible. She had invited a man into her home while her child was in bed, with the intention of having sex with him after the child had fallen asleep. The couple watched television for a while, playing and laughing and becoming comfortable with one another. Eventually that comfort moved her body enough to respond to his touch and his kiss, and after checking to make sure the child was asleep, she led him into her bedroom.
The sex was more than satisfactory. But because the spark wasn't present, she could muster no more descriptive phrase. She lay beside him, answering his question about her latest heartbreak, making it as brief and cold as possible. When he launched into his spiel, "Now see? I don't want this to happen with us. I am not looking to fall in love, I don’t want anything serious or emotional or even long term..." she felt the air leave her. "Or even long term"... rang in her head, and she felt the last of her spirit leave as she interrupted him with an aggravated tone.
"I know. I know! I know you don't want me and I don't care, that's not why you're here. I'm sorry I even told you. Just forget it." She rolled over, her back to him, and he continued to talk as if she’d said "So how's the weather."
And that last tiny little bit of self exhaled against the wall, and slipped slowly, slowly down beneath the bed.
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no subject
Date: 2006-06-01 10:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-01 11:53 am (UTC)