Forever January

I find myself so perplexed by men. I don’t know that they’ve always confused me so — could it be that back then I thought I knew more than I do now, and now I realise truly how naïve I was? Or could it be that I really did know more then than I do now? And if the latter, where did that knowledge go?

I question my capacity to fall in love again. Have I become too cynical and pragmatic for such notions? It’s not that I’m incapable of love — not at all — but am I incapable of being in love?

Maybe the problem lies in that I plot the demise of the relationship before it even grows and blossoms. I look across at the sleeping figure beside me and think, “You’re so wonderfully wonderful, and you’re going to leave me. Maybe not today, tomorrow or even next month — but one day, you’re going to go like the rest.”

And I’ll let you. Without a fight. And I won’t miss you for long, because that’s how I live these days.

I love, get left, and move on. And no one gets a chance to see all of my heart.

I never loved nobody fully,
always one foot on the ground.
And by protecting my heart truly,
I got lost in the sounds …
I hear in my mind
all of these voices …
I hear in my mind
all of these words …
I hear in mind
all of this music …
and it breaks my heart…

– Regina Spektor, “Fidelity”

I try to think simply. I try to tone down the shades of grey in my world — to go back to black and white. And I try — try, try, try so very hard — to not fall for people.

It’s almost with a heavy heart that I can say I’ve succeeded at that. I’ve simply got this heart of mine wrapped up in so much vine and sinew that no one can break through. She’s a fortress in her own right. Such romantic notions as making love don’t seem to exist any more.

Maybe, deep down, I just don’t want anyone to break what little heart I have left. The old girl has been through a lot — she’s a little tired and scarred.

I can sing all the love sings possible, try and create images of romance and adoration in my mind. And yet, simply, I like you. I like being around you. And I didn’t want to leave.

But I’ll never be in love with you. I could never give you what little heart I have left.

Simply, I hope you understand.

“You know I can’t commit to you the way you’d want, kiddo.”

“I know this, and it’s okay with me.”

“You are certainly one bizarre girl.”

And I think to myself, “Just shut up and enjoy the night. It may be all we ever have…”

“You know, I think you like this French guy more than you’re saying you do. Your voice changes every time you talk about him.”

“Oh does it now?”

“It does. I’ve noticed.”

And so you’ve caught me. I try not to wear my heart on my sleeve, but it bleeds out through my voice …

“I’m hungry. Let’s go get something to eat.”

“What do you mean, ‘let’s go get something to eat’? It’s almost midnight and I’m in my pyjamas!”

“Yeah, but Louie’s is open 24-hours and they have the best chocolate chip pancakes in the world!”

“I don’t know … It’s pretty late. You should be sleeping.”

“But I’m not. And you’re not. So let’s go get some chocolate chip pancakes. But, my dear, you will have to drive. I’m a little inebriated.”

And so this was our first meeting. And it was like two old friends meeting after many years of separation. No awkwardness. No long pauses of silence.

Chocolate chip pancakes and staying up until 6 am, talking and drinking wine.

“I want to take you to the gardens and Tsunami tomorrow. Do you want to go?”

“Sure,” I say — all the while thinking, “Well, we’ll see. Usually there’s never a call back!”

But thank you for making me get out and living a little, for giving me a non-normal night.

A cheap $9 garter belt because you’ve lost too much weight for your old one to fit is a steal (until you get home to find that you really miss your old, higher quality one and will just have to fork out the $40 for a different size of the same belt).

But I digress. The woman at the store who rang me up said, “What? $9? Are you sure you want this?”

“Uuuummm … yes?”

“It’s not even a whole stocking! $9 dollars … that’s just too expensive.”

And I couldn’t help but thinking, “Lady, you should have been there the time I shelled out $80 for a Betsey Johnson scarf/hat and squawked about THAT!”

I firmly believe we budget and make allowances for the things that matter to us, and in the world of Rowan some of those things would be: travel, beautiful items and items that enhance my appearance. I don’t make these impulse purchases all the time, but to me I find it paramount to my happiness that occasionally I splurge and buy something beautiful for myself — and whether that means an expensive bottle of perfume or a Betsey Johnson scarf/hat, then so be it. Je suis une femme!

That said, I want the same woman to squawk when I finally purchase my first Hermès scarf. And oh yes, sir! One day I will have an Hermès scarf.

I don’t find that I am materialistic so to speak, but I do enjoy beautiful things. I don’t view my possessions as necessary in my life — I could give them all up for the right reason — and they are not “status symbols”. It is simply that I find when I dress well, smell good and look nice, I feel beautiful.

And that’s what’s MOST important.

(more…)

god i love to turn my little blue world upside down

– Tori Amos, Upside Down

I had no idea so much change was going to come rushing in at the turn of the year, so many re-paintings of my days.

And I just can’t help but feel that you’ve been a catalyst — you speed up these reactions in my heart. And my logics say, “Whoa, hey there! Slow down!” But the heart can’t listen. I feel this way, she says, and I’m going to feel this way. And I’ve been sleeping for so, so long … I’m not going back into the dark.

You’re turning my world upside down; I’m upside down.

No, no … That’s not it at all.

I’m falling in love.

With you.

And it puts me upside down.

Sometimes I wish you’d get out of this place––this place here, in my head. Because I’m so scared of the silence that will ensue once you leave, the kind that reverberates off of walls and swallows rooms in darkness. The kind of silence that lets you hear your own heart beating, bringing a sense of finality to the aloneness.

But you bring music and colour. You bring that joie de vivre I’ve so long been searching for.

You make me think of the future, of more than just education and degrees and my next paycheck.

You make me think of things I said I wasn’t going to think of––never, ever again.

So please––if you ever leave this place here in my head and my life, please give me enough cottony memories to stuff into the abysses that form in your wake.

Because oh baby I’m going to miss that colour you brought to my mind.

And when I see you
I really see you upside down
But my brain knows better––
It picks you up and turns you around
Turns you around, turns you around …

If you feel discouraged
That there’s a lack of colour here,
Please don’t worry lover
It’s really bursting at the seems,
Absorbing everything
The spectrum’s A to Z …

This is fact not fiction
For the first time in years …

- Death Cab for Cutie, A Lack of Color