Men are so weird. The last guy I went out with promised me he was gonna go home and make me a homemade B day card (he's an artist). For a while I checked my mail in anticipation. Everyday I would bet myself a $100 that it wouldn't be there, hoping that my pessimism would be proven wrong. It never was. All of a sudden today, there it is, two weeks late, a nice card saying he liked spending time with me and hoped to spend more time with me. Of course, I think he's leaving to travel like TOMORROW. WTF?!
Anyway, I am already imagining this cute little card being tossed into the dustbin of my dating history along with the many other random items men have given me. Various totems men have given me over the years include - a small crystal penis (given to me by my ex boyfriend to ward off other men before I embarked on a 6 month solo trip to Europe), a rug with a giant fire breathing dragon on it, a dvd of some terrible Brazilian rock band, an ugly little leather flask that says 'Te Quiero Mucho' on it, sappy poems written on scraps of paper, a glittery pink vibrator, a $500 custom made corset, a white leather jacket, dirty books, an easel, an audio tape of a guy describing his bedroom to me and then the sound of him jerking off...etc, etc, etc.
As I think about each of these objects, I see a small image of each guy. Who could know what was passing through their mind at the time? I'm sure they all had sincere intentions in the moment. Later though, it was another story...
Funny, but I like to keep these things. No matter how awful, I feel a bit sentimental about them. They are like strange little puzzle pieces - reconstructing an image of a time, a place, a face.
A face that once thought of me.
2 comments:
The same thing can be said about women. Words can whistle past you and leaving memories like a dull roar.
But, really, a card sounds like a nice thing. It's not too much and not too little.
The memory invested in these physical objects can take on greater weight when you feel a certain way. Just two evenings ago a Tahoe sunset had me dwelling on a lost love. I caught in a wrinkle in time..a moment that never was...because she was never there.
So there is nothing strange in being sentimental.
That's kind of beautiful, Violet.
And PS -- WHY have you never played for me the tape of the guy describing his bedroom and then jerking off? HOW many years did we live together?!?! No love. I get no love.
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