lust but not least

Two years before giving birth to me, my mommy lost her first baby. Had she lived, she would have been 36. They named her Sara (and this is the only true name in the blog) and as her lungs weren't strong enough to make her breathe, she flew away taking my parents' smile with her.
My Aunt Choy tells me that when I was no more than 3 I used to talk loudly to my "sister in Heaven".
I actually don't remember anything about that but it sounds quite likely, as I still talk to myself very very often. Oh, I pretend to be talking to the cats - which somehow seems a bit more "normal" - but I'm actually either practising my English or rehearsing some conversation I wanna have with someone at work...But that's another story.

I like to think that, had she lived, she would have had dark hair and green/hazelnut sweet eyes, long eyelashes and a warm smile. I like to think that, had she lived, she would have been there for me.

Sara is quiet as always and has a low voice that cuddles me over the phone while she asks me to stay at her home tonite. Her hubby's out to work - he's a vet and has a conference or something - and the kids will be in bed by 9.30. She has two small children of 3 and 4, a boy and a girl, who both call me Auntie-tah and never fail to make me feel guilty asking me "when are you going to bring us your cookies, Auntie-tah?"

She knows I'm heartbroken. She has talked to Kee over the phone and I'm sure they've made up some "rescue plan". So tonite I'm staying at her's. We have veg soup with crostini bread and scrumbled eggs with cheese. After pj-ing the kids, we finally chill out on the sofa, our legs intertwined, a yellow blanket that covers us right up to our chins and a mug of steaming barley drink on the coffee table.
- hon, you look like shit
- thanks. I know.
- what the hell are you eating these days? Cloudy-covered spooks?
- yeah. And don't forget the Gloomynnaise for the dressing..
- so, what the hell has he done this time?
- oh nothing new really. He's just making clearer and clearer that he's engaged and doesn't love me anymore. He's attracted to me. He cares. He says he "knows there isn't anyone else" to make him feel the way I do. Still, he's engaged. I know he's a mess and I know he's my cryptonite. Still, I feel lousy. Still, I longer for him.
- hon, you've known for months that he's like a thorn in your paw... and you also know that his girlfriend's not so lucky, given the fact that he still craves you like crazy. You've known he's kinda engaged for days now. What has changed?
- don't know, Sara...maybe I'm too tired to think straight. I'm overwhelmed by pain and I overestimated my ability to cope with the truth.
- Listen, he's thinking neither with his mind nor with his body at the moment. He's reacting just like a wounded bear. He wants to run away from you, and everytime he gets to see you he tells himself the tale that he wants to make love to you because "he can't help it". Bullshit. You've only given yourself the chance to get to know yourself better, by seeing him again. By testing your emotions. Now you know that this passion and lust was not only in your mind. It's stronger than you thought, and it entagles him more than ever. He can't afford you, sissie-tah, because you're too much. And he's scared to death by the depth within you both.
- yeah, right. And where does this leave me? Here on your couch, feeling lost and crying my bloody heart out. Thinking that he's happy and content, buying her books and flowers, kissing her tenderly while I'm here trying to survive
- (sings) at first I was afraid I was petrified..
- ...oh c'mon
- ..kept thinking I could never live without you by my side
- ..stop it, you silly bitch! (a smile cracks in between the tears)
- but then I spent so many night with my sister on the couch... and I grew strong! (hands up and almost dancing) and I learned how to get along!
- ok ok ok stop torturing me this way! I surrender! you're right.
- ok, repeat with me. He's messed with me and it's perfectly normal that I feel like shit.
- yeah, he's messed with me
- and???
- and it's perfectly normal that I feel like shit.
- ok. (stroking my hair) Good girl, my sissie-tah. Don't you feel better?
- Yeah, I'm great. By the way, can I commit suicide later, while you're sleeping?
- Of course you can. Only do it in silence, 'cause if you wake up the kids I'll play the Lazarus/Jesus game just to kill you with my bare hands.
- Fine.

---------------------------------------

Title from: Basket Case - Green Day