The Ultimate Weakness (1040 hits)
Category: GeneralRating: 1.66 on 32 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by CookieLass (View user info) at 2006-04-12 05:01:24 EDT
Nothing feels right. My skin is too loose and too tight all at the same time. Huddled under my sheet on the sofa, a piece of hair falls across my face and on my hands, the faint scent of cigarettes. His smell. I think of him as though he were a lifetime ago, not just a few minutes; a thousand miles away, not just asleep, sprawled across the bed in another room. The clock reads three oh four a.m. The words I spoke were a death knell for us, and I doubt he even knows it. I killed it. And even when the corpse of what we had is lying there in the bedroom, stinking up the joint, he'll still be oblivious. Memory of his fingertips sliding across my bare back telling me "I'm here, but not here. Not with you, no matter what I say."
I feel the choke of a sob in my throat but refuse to let it go free. Stuff it down inside with the rest of them. Crying never fixes anything. It never turns back the clock to the place you wish you were, never pauses that moment. Never erases anything. Just leaves you sick and feeling poisoned. Besides, he's seen my tears a million times before and it never does one damned bit of good. Why give in now? Let me have my dignity. For once.
Sleep will never come, I know. I'm no stranger to the night-time, to being nocturnal. Insomnia has been the one thing I could count on for the last three years. I can already hear the birds rising, tweeting sleepily even though the stars are still out. I don't want to fight. So tired of fighting. Of the battle. Every happy moment just seems to be gearing things up for another blowout anyway. I know I don't matter. That I have never mattered. Not the way I need to. And I know that he's baffled by this, that I should cut him some slack. But I can't. As I lie on my back swaddled in sweetly scented cotton, staring up at the absurdly high ceiling, I am frozen by the fear of settling. Of resigning myself to always being less-than. Maybe I think too highly of myself.
I feel swallowed up by these emotions wound through me. Like I'm treading water in a circle of sharks, and they're just waiting for me to tire myself out. And the wind is kicking up as if to tell me that if the fish don't kill me, weather will. Somehow. And then I feel that cramp in my leg that tells me I only have a few more seconds to swim before I'm swallowed up, and I look around for him, begging him to save me, but he never comes. Not for me. Just my luck he's sighted some topless girl through binoculars, sunbathing on a yacht ten miles off, and he'd rather watch her than see that the one he swears to love is drowning. Dying. Being swallowed. And he never hears my screams as the sharks tear off my legs. As the waves bowl me over and drag me under. As I sink to the bottom. He's too busy looking at what he can't have and doesn't really want. Too busy with everything else for me.
And isn't it just the story of my life? How pathetic that a woman so strong, so smart, so worthwhile has to be needed to have a purpose. And that she'll never be needed, because you have to be wanted to be needed, and she knows that she's never been wanted. Never been sought after. Not for a day in her life. Especially not by the ones that she wants to want her. Needs to need her. Swept out to sea in a riptide of neglect. Why is it that the ones who ask for help are always the ones who need it the most, but never get it? And when they're finally gone, everyone shrugs their shoulders and wonders what set them off. Wonders why they never spoke up when every breath they ever took contained an exhaled screaming plea?
This could be the ultimate weakness. This constant feeling of being overwhelmed. There's no one to blame. So I wasn't my mother's favourite child. So she turned a blind eye to the horrible things her husbands did. So my first time was against my will. Who cares what the therapists say? At some point, you have to take responsibility for your own actions, your own feelings, your own being. And I accept that I must not be as strong as I thought. That deep down inside of me, there is a watery core of indecision, of self doubt, of self-hate. And maybe everyone has that watery core, but I fear that mine may be a deeper pool than most.
I can't close my eyes. I may never wake up.
User Reviews
Submitted by Goneril (user info) at 2006-05-18 07:46:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Huuuge amounts of resonance in here. I thought it was brilliant and definately relate to what you're saying.
Submitted by Istaros (user info) at 2006-04-19 02:12:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
well written
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2006-04-13 10:25:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by FilthyAssistant (user info) at 2006-04-12 10:28:12 (#)
Ranking: 2
It strayed too far into a kind of weirdly glamourised self-pity at times, but otherwise good.
********************
The shark thing was a bit much for me, but overall, very touching, very sad. I hope you're okay.
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2006-04-12 21:33:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Goddamn, Cookie. I don't know if this is fiction or not, but now I feel like a big baby because it made me tear up.
I relate to more of this than I care to admit. If I elaborate, I'll just sound self-indulgent. But..yeah.
Submitted by CookieLass (user info) at 2006-04-12 16:40:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I dunno why you think I'm mad at you, love. At worst, I was only ever slightly peeved, but I can't even remember why. I think it had something to do with underwear.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-04-12 16:17:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Jeez, now I'm all depressed.
There's more I could say, but I think you're stil cross with me, so I'll shut up.
Submitted by CookieLass (user info) at 2006-04-12 14:45:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I love you, Icky. I really do. Only you could make me laugh with chauvanism like that.
Plus, I envy your wife her red vacuum. Ours is black, even though I wanted the one that was black and white because it looked exactly like a storm trooper.
Submitted by icarus1987 (user info) at 2006-04-12 13:34:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Do you know what makes my wife happy? Do you know what makes her green eyes spark up like a zippo even when I track sawdust across the floor and make a blatantly tasteless comment about her red hair and drunken Irish kith?
A shiny new vacuum.
Seriously, I don't know where she gets it from. I mean, I spent many of my college years reading Anthony and Woolf, both of whom would be deeply offended by such apparent affection towards domestic servitude.
But, see, she explained, THIS vacuum had a little motor unit that could detach from the chassis to clean the stairs. And it came with a little motorized brush thing. And it was chrome red, which wasn't really a dealbreaker, but was rather nice all the same. I just don't see it, though. It's not like it's a new table saw or orbital sander or anything.
So anyways, maybe you should get yourself a new vacuum. Then you won't need any man, even though droves of them will be bursting down your door, drawn by the irresistably shiny colors and new-plastic smell.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-04-12 12:35:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2006-04-12 12:29:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Perhaps all you need to stop feeling lethargic is a shot glass full of Shlongy's semen.
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2006-04-12 11:43:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Join us: http://www.ubersite.com/m/86557
Submitted by Dead_0hi0_Sky (user info) at 2006-04-12 10:32:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
im not giving you a +2.
we've all heard this sob story before. all our lives suck. why bitch about it?
asswipe.
Submitted by FilthyAssistant (user info) at 2006-04-12 10:28:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
It strayed too far into a kind of weirdly glamourised self-pity at times, but otherwise good.
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-04-12 10:19:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
The reasons for this plus 2 can be found above in the post.
Submitted by cuberat (user info) at 2006-04-12 09:34:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Nellypaal (user info) at 2006-04-12 09:15:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Not at all bad to read but a little too ... for me.
Submitted by Pentameter (user info) at 2006-04-12 08:43:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2006-04-12 08:32:55 (#)
Ranking: 2
Charles Bukowski apparently
-----------------
I was about to say...
Excellent taste in poetry though, red.
Submitted by Flack (user info) at 2006-04-12 08:34:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
If I was still In Texas, I would so come down and get you all sorts of fucked up. You are teh graytest, cooks. LATE!
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2006-04-12 08:32:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Charles Bukowski apparently
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2006-04-12 08:32:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Was it Kipling who said...
a woman, a
tire that's flat, a
disease, a
desire: fears in front of you,
fears that hold so still
you can study them
like pieces on a
chessboard...
it's not the large things that
send a man to the
madhouse. death he's ready for, or
murder, incest, robbery, fire, flood...
no, it's the continuing series of small tragedies
that send a man to the
madhouse...
not the death of his love
but a shoelace that snaps
with no time left ...
The dread of life
is that swarm of trivialities
that can kill quicker than cancer
and which are always there -
licence plates or taxes
or expired driver's license,
or hiring or firing,
doing it or having it done to you, or
roaches or flies or a
broken hook on a
screen, or out of gas
or too much gas,
the sink's stopped-up, the landlord's drunk,
the president doesn't care and the governor's
crazy.
lightswitch broken, mattress like a
porcupine;
$105 for a tune-up, carburetor and fuel pump at
sears roebuck;
and the phone bill's up and the, market's
down
and the toilet chain is
broken,
and the light has burned out -
the hall light, the front light, the back light,
the inner light; it's
darker than hell
and twice as
expensive.
then there's always crabs and ingrown toenails
and people who insist they're
your friends;
there's always that and worse;
leaky faucet, christ and christmas;
blue salami, 9 day rains,
50 cent avocados
and purple
liverwurst.
or making it
as a waitress at norm's on the split shift,
or as an emptier of
bedpans,
or as a carwash or a busboy
or a stealer of old lady's purses
leaving them screaming on the sidewalks
with broken arms at the age of 80.
suddenly
2 red lights in your rear view mirror
and blood in your
underwear;
toothache, and $979 for a bridge
$300 for a gold
tooth,
and china and russia and america, and
long hair and short hair and no
hair, and beards and no
faces, and plenty of zigzag but no
pot, except maybe one to piss in
and the other one around your
gut.
with each broken shoelace
out of one hundred broken shoelaces,
one man, one woman, one
thing
enters a
madhouse.
so be careful
when you
bend over.
There's a moral about getting bummed there too I'm sure
Submitted by Pentameter (user info) at 2006-04-12 08:26:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
After reading this, my heart is broken for you. You know where I am if you need me.
Submitted by Grimm (user info) at 2006-04-12 07:52:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This was very very good. Write more.
Submitted by TigerLilly (user info) at 2006-04-12 07:20:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by DizzyMissus (user info) at 2006-04-12 07:13:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I feel this way too. I've been told you have to love yourself first and things will change (I thought I did) and I just can't seem to settle for 'half-baked' relationships. I would rather be single.
Excellent writing.
Submitted by Ainkara (user info) at 2006-04-12 06:18:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This was very well written, and managed to get to me, as I'm feeling a little the same way at the moment.
Submitted by Merlina (user info) at 2006-04-12 05:40:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Awesome...
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2006-04-12 05:39:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I think everyone likes to feel needed, hence why dog ownership is a gender spanning trait. Actually, for men this is sort of the basis of their entire lives. At least it is for most of the men I've ever met.
Except the divorcee's obviously. They have nothing.
Submitted by phuzzygish (user info) at 2006-04-12 05:39:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Doih.
I'm such a nana.
Submitted by CookieLass (user info) at 2006-04-12 05:19:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Yes, lonliness, but not quite the way you phrased it... it's difficult to explain. Not striving to be adored, or worshipped, or put on a pedestal (a la Ron Hubbard a.k.a. Mr. My Made Up Religion Has Driven Tom Cruise To The Brinks Of Insanity and Back) but just that feeling of being needed. Of knowing that if you were gone, the person you left would feel a hole where you used to be, and would miss you. Also the lonliness of knowing that when that person who swears to love you sees you unhappy and slipping away, they won't lift a finger to try and keep you.
Maybe it's just girls who need to feel fought-for fromtime to time, and maybe I watch too many Hugh Grant movies when I can't sleep.
Drew, my love, I e-mailed you, like, 10 minutes ago.
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2006-04-12 05:13:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
So, like, just so we're clear on this... We're talking about lonliness right? And teh desire to be teh apple of teh luvvely persons eye? Kind of like El Ronaldinio Hubbard is to his minions?
So we all want to be adored, like, but can't be 'cause we're rubbish and teh people we want want better than us?
Submitted by phuzzygish (user info) at 2006-04-12 05:12:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Wow. So you CAN write reel good!
Nice one Cooksister, but I have a feeling I know wher ethe inspiration came from. I want see if I'm sright, but there's also something else I want to ask ya. Mind mailing me on phuzzygish.at.gmail.com please? I don't have your email address anymore.... :(
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2006-04-12 05:07:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Humanity is rubbish. I'm going to become a catholic.