Archive for stupidity

From Our First Conversation in Sixteen Years…

Posted in life story, Ramblings with tags , , , , on 2010/03/28 by R L Burns
 You (3:33 AM):  I never wanted you to be any sort of outsider and that is a life long regret.



Me (3:34 AM):  i just hope you aren’t disappointed in me. i am hopelessly whitebread and boring.



You (3:34 AM):  I am sorry for putting you through all of that.



Me (3:34 AM):  i never truly believed i would be an outsider. why did your mom hate me so much? why did you get married so fast?



You (3:36 AM):  Lady you are the most facinating woman that I have ever met; there is no more time to lie about anything.



Me: (3:37 AM):  don’t be sorry. shit happens. who knows? maybe we’d have killed each other or fought all the time or…i don’t know. we can’t change it and i don’t suppose we would if we could, really.



Me (3:37 AM):  now i know you are silly. me, fascinating? don’t get out much, do you?  



You (3:40 AM):  Okay my Mom hated you because she watched me disintigrate when it fell apart between us. I knew you slept with Tony via a letter from G. I told her. I hated you for that. You hurt her baby and I bad mouthed you a lot. I got married because I wanted you to hurt as bad as I did.


Me (3:44 AM):  slept wih tony? tony l? i never slept with anyone, you jackass, until i was raped at 16 by the best friend of a boy i liked. i never count that, though, and always consider that stupid jeff k – who i married because you told me to, and who abused me then and later afte mike and i split up – was the first person i slept with and i was almost seven-fucking-teen . your mom NEVER liked me once she realized how much you did. and things fell apart because you wouldn’t talk to me. and as far as wanting me to hurt as much as you…well, i think you got your wish.

was it worth it, causing me that pain?

what did it do to you?


 Me (3:45 AM):  and the first person should have fucking been you. although why i think that i am sure i don’t know.



Me (3:46 AM):  i mean, if we’re being honest. jesus. tony?


 Me (3:46 AM):  g- fucking-m? since when did you believe anything he said? ? ? ?


 Me (3:48 AM):  tony? your best fucking friend? don’t think much of either of us, do you?


 Me (3:49 AM):  i’m sorry. 30 years of rage and hurt and love are just killing me right now. dammit, michael.


 You (3:51 AM):  No it was not worth it. I don’t care if it happened or not. We were fucking kids.  It destroyed my life and robbed me of the one chance I had at being with you. I have 30 years of rage too you know !


 You (3:53 AM):  Sorry is never going to be enough but I am.


 You (3:55 AM):  I felt so undeserving of you, I believed shit no rational human would.


 You (3:58 AM):   How can you possibly love something like me?


R (4:00 AM):  i love you because like cathy said of heathcliffe: whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. i am you and you are me. i love you because you are beautiful and tragic and kind and cruel. you are rain on a tin roof and snow on a mountaintop. you are amazingly strong – no matter what you think – and flawed and perfect. i love you because you are you.


You (4:02 AM):  If I could undo all of it I would. I hope you know that.


Me (4:02 AM):  oddly enough, i still remember the way you used to breathe when you were asleep. that’s what i was longing for when i mentioned staying over.  just to sleep by you again and wake up by you.


Me (4:03 AM):  yes i know that and so would i. and sorry is enough. i don’t know why we have to do this to each other every time. but i guess we can’t help it.


You (4:04 AM):  None of it matters anymore.


You (4:04 AM):  No more of this bickering.


You (4:05 AM):  I need to hold you one more time.


Me (4:08 AM):  well. i feel the same. so we will work it out. i am sure you must be tired and this can’t be easy on your eyes, so…want to call it a night – or morning? write me, call me, text me, anytime you want to. know that i do love you. very much. no matter what has happened, that has NEVER EVER changed, and it never will. and whatever anyone else says or thinks, you belong to me, michael. end of story.

 Me (4:09 AM):  time, space, not even death can ever change that. and they can all be mad as hell, and i don’t care. that’s just the way it is.


You (4:13 AM):  I believe you. Tommorrow between 3 and 9:30 pm your time. I will call you. I will talk to you then, my love. Goodnight.


Me (4:14 AM):  goodnight, michael.

Migraines Suck

Posted in Poetry, Ramblings with tags , , , on 2010/01/25 by R L Burns

The migraine meds must be getting to me           

I was cutting out pictures –

For my scrapbook, the one

I always joked would be sitting in my lap

When I am older than dirt

And you finally come to see me again –

I was using my best, my sharpest scissors

When my hand began to shake

I dropped the pictures and gripped the handle

Til the knuckles on my right hand

Turned white – my hand shaking all the while.

My hand floated up in the air, the blade

Of the scissors pointing down,

Poised for destruction.

I watched in morbid fascination

As the pointed end made its way, I thought,

Towards the pictures now sitting in my lap.

Ah…but the pictures were not the target

My pale porcelain wrist was.

It occurred to me that I should either

Move my wrist or change the direction of the scissors

But I did neither, and the tip pierced my skin

I felt nothing, really, beyond annoyance

That the scissors hadn’t gone deeper…

So I scratched the tip against my wrist

Over and over and over.

That was dumb.

Hmmm…guess I should go bandage it up.