I can't help but feel utterly alone. I am constantly watching people just walk right out of my life. No warning, just gone. And that is where the insecurity comes from. Not whether or not I look good or am fun but when everyone will eventually leave. They all will, eventually. No one can be there forever, not even the ones who promise.
I find myself thinking about what we'd be doing if you were here. It's Sunday. We'd be watching football. You'd be stoked to know that we get the Pats game today at 4. Would we be home for it? Would we have gone to Hooters or B Dubs to watch? It's fall, we would have our punkins already carved (punkins that I haven't even looked at this year... what's the point?) Yours would be better than mine. It always was. Remember when we did ours last year and I did the little skull with the bow? I cut it too thin so it would barely stay and we had to try to keep it together with toothpicks. You thought it was hilarious, I pouted. Mine rotted super fast too. There were three; yours with the big face, my lil skull and then baby punkin that we didn't cut. Our lil punkin family. What else would we do? Maybe we would have stayed in PJs all day, maybe we would have gotten dressed. Clothes were worn in minimal amounts at our house, you'd have your shirt off even if you had gotten dressed. Unless we were going somewhere chances are I'd be in some form of PJs. Ariana would probably be in PJs too. Would you guys be playing on the floor? Would she look at you and say dada? She would definitely be climbing all over you as you laid on the floor, like she does with me, but you'd be more fun. Maybe we would have gotten a sitter and gone out this weekend. Maybe we would have had a date. Dinner and a movie. Maybe we would have stayed in. After the baby went down, we would have cuddled up on the couch and watched movies and eaten food that we shouldn't. You'd eat a bowl of ice cream, I know it. Maybe we would have gotten in a fight. We would have yelled at each other. Your face would turn red and you'd puff all up as I pushed all the buttons to make you mad. Your nostrils would flare. We would still go to bed together. You wouldn't let me go to bed mad. You'd still tell me how much you love me and I would tell you how much I love you too, even though you're being a jerk (even though chances are I started the fight). In the morning we would have woken up next to each other and everything would be fine. We might even laugh about it. Or we'd apologize. And mean it. Maybe we would have gone to friends' houses. We would laugh and hang out. Kids would play together. Maybe drinks, maybe not. We would go to get your hair cut. And probably do some grocery shopping. The kitchen would actually have food in it and I would actually still cook. We would have dinner and share what we were eating with the baby. We might have even sat at the table as a family. It would have been a good weekend. All the things we could be doing... all the things we would be doing. If only.
And now, I'm here. Without any of those things. Without you. I'm just a piece of a person. You used to pick up my pieces when they fell apart. Now there's no one who can (and who even would want to, anyway) and most of those pieces are missing anyway. I'm the puzzle that's too much blue that's been dropped once or twice so many of the pieces are lost. The puzzle that never fits right together and with all that blue it's too difficult to put together so no one wants to anyway. Wow, rereading that... pity, party of one anyone?
I've just been listening to some Jack's Mannequin today. Man do I love me some Jack's. I should be cleaning and working on Ariana's halloween costume but in this funk I have zero motivation. So I'm sitting here, writing, maybe if I get some of it out I'll feel better. Maybe not. Probably not.
Jack's Mannequin Rescued
Two to one static to the sound of you and I,
Undone for the last time
And there this was
Hiding at the bottom of your swimming pool
And don't you think I wish that I could stay?
Your lips give you away
I can hear it
A jet engine
Through the center of the storm
And I'm thinking
I'd prefer not to be rescued
Two to none roads that lead away from this
I'm following myself just this once
And I got spun
It appears you're spun as well
It happens when you pay attention
Well, this could take all year
But when it's quiet does she hear me?
A jet is sent to the center of the storm
And I'm thinking I'd prefer not to be rescued
And oh, I can feel her, she's dying just to keep me cool
And I'm finally numb so please don't get me rescued
And it's unclear but this may be my last song
Oh I, I can tell
She's raising hell to give to me
She got me warm
So please don't get me rescued
And oh, say you'll miss me
One last time and I'll be strong
But whatever you do, please don't get me rescued
Because I'm feeling like
I might need to be near you
And I feel alright, so please don't get me rescued.