Mythic Bitch

but is that because i never felt it

or because my parents told me from a

very, very young age that it wasn’t allowed?

that it was wrong.

a lot of people say they always knew.

but i didn’t.

i just grew up in awe of women.

as if they were these mythical beings.

as a kid my best friend’s mom mentioned

to her that i might be a lesbian.

but that never crossed my mind.

no matter how in love with my friend i was.

i wonder if things would be different.

if i had no one in my ear so young.

maybe i’d be so different.

but of course i am happy.

being bisexual feels like a cop out.

to have a husband and a girlfriend.

it feels childish? to have both. to like both.

there’s no point to this post.

S, worshipping my body

me, covering my armpits: that’s under construction

s: it’s been under construction for a longtime

me: and it’ll stay that way. don’t speed.

s: i’m going 55.

me: 55????

s: well it’s a highway

me: oh

s: …. normal speed is 70.

me: please stop talking

it’s a bad night for my brain. S connects the old xbox and puts on a movie for me while he makes a gorg dinner, commenting from the kitchen on scenes i love. i turn it up.

she texts me from her work conference. she tells me i will hear from her in 7+ drinks.

and when i wake up, i have texts from 3a.

silly stories about coworkers.

and you’re working so hard for me.

soon you’ll ask me again what’s ahead,

his wife is turned to stone, but he carries her to the forest and says if she ever wakes up, she will see how beautiful it is.

and then it cuts to her stone, covered in beautiful ivy and flowers, while he is long gone.

i don’t know why it affects me so deeply. but i cannot stop crying. you hold me.

then i ask you to show me all the videos in the folder you have labeled, “videos that make goose scream laugh.” and i’m ok.

but later, we are leaving the gym and i start thinking about the crow and start to cry again.

and this time you cry too.

you put on our current song: everywhere, everything - and you hold my hands.

and we just cry.

“even when we lose each other in this life, we will always have the next. i love you.”

and i can’t speak through my tears but i nod.

we go inside and sit on the couch.

and we talk and talk and talk.

it is easy.

of course.

it’s a post.

or lack there of.

but:

am i too much?

did you just want to feel wanted?

did you care at all?

was i just a way to get back at your husband?

was he feeling insecure so you made a post for him?

or

was the post a letter to me?

“see how easy it was- to post about someone who isn’t you.”

was it just to send a message?

because you’re not stupid.

at the end of the day it doesn’t matter,

why is that?

i request my husband spend extra time with me.

i lay on him while we watch fallout and the dog curls up in my chest nook

everything IS easy. i have everything i could possibly want.

maybe it’s just the passage of time. i’m getting older.

i see it in the mirror for the first time today.

that’s okay.

another year.

but everything IS good.