"Stating for the Record
that I Went Through an Elaborate
Dorothy Parker Thought Process
Before It Actually, Like, Happened"
Oscillating between asexual and lovelorn, I finally declared my status as "available" on Facebook.
I wish one were able to elaborate instead of simply checking the box next to which was technically correct--
Is it sort of like declaring one is single on a tax form? In that case, I've always been "single," despite being called a "spouse" amongst friends.
He called me his spouse, said he had already felt married.
So, I was tempted to check "divorced" on Facebook, to confuse and bewilder others, but it's something that makes better sense to me.
It's something that feels more correct--
"I was officially loved deeply by someone else for a long time, and he decided he was done, so now I'm not loved by him anymore."
Cue The Smiths and The Cure, cue the low chime of church bells, signaling a death knell instead of a wedding.
Oscillating between guilt and defiance, I finally declared my status as "unattached" on Facebook.
While he did it right away, I waited until almost Christmas, just in case someone wanted to declare his or her love and send me flowers.
(I've only received flowers from a lover once; it was on our first date.)
Cue The Smiths and The Cure, cue the groans and eye rolls from the reader.
Am I free now to pour secrets? Am I free to be knowable?
I'm not blameless; I'm an asshole. I left, scared, after my poor word choice and hysterics, ripping tiny clumps of my hair out and resorting to cross-complaining out of frustration, out of dropping all of my cards on the floor, out of jumping from my skin and placing my worn thoughts in the ether, simply wanting to see a movie on my day off.
It feels childish, this wanting to close my heart, caulk the doorway and be done.
After all, I miss holding someone and telling him I loved him everyday, several times a day.
I'm not exaggerating.
I held him--in my arms, and softly in my gaze, everyday, several times a day.
I may be poor--I may have only a few cents in my bank account--but my heart is warm and pure. I am wealthy in kindness. I am wealthy in patience.
Oscillating between vulnerability and sanity, I finally declared my status as "single" on Facebook.
When he held my heart in front of my face and called me "honey" one last time, before saying he was done, I wanted my heart back.
I told him that I wanted him, but I changed my mind: I wanted my heart back.
He was the first one to have it, the first one to warm it in his palms and place it gently, using forefinger and thumb, within the glow of his enchantment.
I snatched it back, just in time for the holidays, and that's when I finally declared my status as "available" on Facebook.