For those of you who attended the writer’s open mic tonight, this is what came out of those frantic scribblings you witnessed.
He used to call me
darling.
Among other
equally archaic terms of endearment.
So the term has a weird association with me.
It also reminds me of the color
green.
A muted green, almost gray
like that thermal shirt he wore
over the white teeshirt
in that picture on his Facebook profile
that makes him look 30.
He also used to call me
ma cherie.
That’s French for
“my darlingâ€
He went to France once.
Paris.
He told me a story
about when he was drunk
(because the drinking age is lower
in Paris)
He told me a story about
mooning a tourist boat.
I don’t know why that’s something I so distinctly remember about him.
I wasn’t even there.
I didn’t get to Paris
for another year and a half.
Paris
as they say
is the city of love.
And I thought about that a lot
as I walked along the edge of the Sienne
tripping over cobblestone streets with a
Bella Swan-like affinity for falling down.
It was the same river where that boat got a front row view of
his pale, bony, drunk ass.
That connection was interesting to me.
We eventually met, of course, but I don’t think I ever felt so
connected
to him, the way I felt when I was in Paris.
And I think that’s partially because it’s the city of love.
Because I did love him
I loved him with my whole heart, and with whatever else I could scrap together.
I loved him with such an intensity
it physically pained me
crushed me like a fallen hunk of cement
until I could no longer breathe.
And the worst part about that love
that deep, affectionate, unruly love
was that it was wasted on him.
And I hated myself for that.
I didn’t hate myself because he treated me like
bargain shop shoes
I didn’t hate myself because he made me feel,
at least sometimes,
like I was the most beautiful girl in the world,
like I was strong
sexy
incredible.
I hated myself because he didn’t know he was an asshole,
and I did,
and I decided to pretend to forget about it.
Either way
every time I hear
“darlingâ€
I cringe
and then I smile.
