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Je veux être la fille avec la plupart de gâteau. Regardez-moi dans la glace.
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24 January 2006


Bang, Bang

Editor's Note: A slightly abridged version of this story appears at The Black Table: Waxing Off. Thanks to AJ and the girls for a nice ride.

“marcus. . .”

(she smiles)

“Hi, remember me?”

“I do remember you. I was thinking about you today…duh, of course I are you?”

“I’m okay…how are you?”

“I’m okay, really, but I’ve missed talking to you… Jack has scarlet fever and I wanted to ask your advice about the local boy and Daniel’s girlfriend spent the weekend with the boys and it freaked me out a little and I have missed your voice and how did the opening go? How are the boys? Were the holidays okay? I’m really glad you called.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about not calling you…I didn’t know what else to do, and not speaking to you seemed like the best solution to the problem I was having. The boys are good, holidays were fine and work is fine. Anyway, I really don’t want to talk about all that other stuff; this is hard enough.”

“Talk to me about the problem, honey.”

“I just can’t do this, Madeline. I can’t think about you with Jefferson when I’m not there, and I can’t continue to be involved with someone so far away.”


His voice was calm and measured as he laid out his reasons for ending our relationship.

“Baby, I am cut out for two things: lots of casual sex, and love: one-on-one. And I can’t be in love with you when you’re so far away AND involved with my best friend. It’s too hard.”

My thoughts raced.

But I love you.But you love me.But I said this would happen from the beginning.But you said I was the best thing that happened to you this year.But I want to see you again.But this isn’t fair this is so not fair.

I didn’t say much. I kept my back turned to the kids, wiping my eyes quickly when they wandered into my line of sight, smiling and nodding.

Really, what could I say?

I wish I had a witty, snarky comeback for his arguments. I wish I could say that that’s how it goes and chalk one up to bad luck.

But I can’t. I don’t think I’ll ever feel that knowing marcus was bad luck. Bad timing, maybe.

I'll miss the flash of his smile when he greets me at the airport. The way that, in the middle of a conversation about international politics, he tells me how smart and hot I am. The way he can look at me naked and admire my body and I never feel self-conscious. And damn it, I'm going to miss fucking him.

I don’t wish we’d never met.

I don’t wish we’d never fallen in love.

I do sort of wish I hadn’t puked on his dick that one time.


Blogger Freya said...

Sweetness, the last several entries have been so bittersweet and touching. It just makes me want to pet you and murmur in your ear that everything will be okay.

((((sending a cyberhug or two from my neck of the woods))))

Anonymous H said...

Oh baby, I feel your pain. We do have much in common, you and I. Sending you hugs from NY.

Blogger -- said...

Breaking up over the phone is always bad -- its so impersonal. I feel for you. Hang in there

Blogger brat said...

Oh crap.
I am very very sorry.

Blogger Holiday said...

You do seem to lead a most interesting life - though emotional turmoil is never gratifying. What is gratifying is the competency of your writing, and your willingness to be so candid. You are quite talented.

Blogger Ryder said...

I am so sorry, I have lived this, from both sides.

Blogger introspectre said...

I'm so sorry.
(And I'm sorry I laughed at the last line, I just did NOT see that one coming.)

Blogger marcus said...

i hit the ground


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