Maybe

It was the need for him to acknowledge her. To look at her, address her. Anything. She clawed for that Maybe. “maybe” he would look at her and she would see that sparkle in his eyes returned with the original passion. Maybe he would remember she made him laugh or Maybe he would remember that when no one else was putting up with his shit, she was. Maybe he would remember he loved her. He knew she loved him. But that was a tale for another day.

For him to willingly include her in his conversation. She was still invested in his life. He let her be invested in his life. He would be sweet when and only when he wanted something from her. She knew it, she could see it. It was her overwhelming need to be included by him.

Linus was such a fucking prick.

Was that spark even ever really there?

Maybe.

Dark Waters and Endless Fires

She just felt so fucking unheard. As the old saying goes “her words fell on deaf ears”. It was as though she was screaming under water. The depths were thick with emptiness, so much so that even if she could have produced a sound it would have eaten it up before anyone could have heard. That’s how she felt. Always.

These days her chest always felt heavy, her shoulders heavily weighted. The only thing that kept her on her feet was the continuous burning rage giving her the strength to continue.

How could anyone live like this? Truth is, Bella didn’t know any other way. She had spent most of her life feeling this way. Pushing the hottest, heaviest parts deep down. Often times so deep that she could almost trick herself into believing that she might actually be happy.

It never lasted. Something. Always. Happened. It was a certain as death and taxes. Whatever the catalyst may be, that would be thing that would feed the recklessness that would push her to learn what her limits were… Or weren’t.

No matter how far she pushed (and she had come really close a few times) she remained.

So did the anger.

With that thought, burned away another string in the disentanglement of Bella and Linus

The Wall

It wasn’t that she didn’t clean, it wasn’t that she couldn’t clean. Normally she had a pristine and tidy home. Those feelings though…

She knew what they were, even if she could not say them out loud to explain. Gods knew she wanted to. But that fucking wall. She COULD have a pristine home right now. So many things logical and illogical stood in her way

It was his house and she had a hard time doing things that benefitted him these days.

The fact that having a pristine house right now would mean losing precious sleep to achieve that level and maintaining it. She needed that sleep to help regulate her the best it could.

Mostly, it was that godforsaken wall. Made of despair and self doubt. Fit with all the mouths whispering the bitter truths of her short comings, her failures. Whispering of the things she could never be… never aspire to.

That wall built on sorrow and desperation, decorated with may mouths. All hers. That wall had seemingly grown during this particular time in her life.

It had never seemed so big and Bella had never felt so small

With daunting realness, another string melted away in the disentanglement of Bella and Linus

21 Days Til the Sun Died

She carried The Suicide book with her everywhere. That little purple burden. It was both heavy and light. The place where the darkest and saddest parts of her rested. Bella did not particularly want to carry it with her wherever she went. There was the fear of a glance unnoticed over her shoulder, or the terrifying thought that she would set it down to forget it where it lay. It was similar feelings that caused her to bring it with her. God forbid that Nose came across it. Though he may not mean to be intrusive, she thought he may read it out of concern as he knew her best at this moment.

She felt for the book in her bag, more out of habit and silly, unnecessary worry that a book she knew was there wasn’t. She could feel the leather cover, the way the design of leaves and vine were embossed into the cover. It was there. So she sat down and picked up her pen.

She felt away another string in the disentanglement of Bella and Linus

Come and Go

One day long ago she watched her heart walk away under a trilby hat.

Bella didn’t know that when he walked away. She didn’t know that was the last hug, the last kiss, the Last picture to be taken.

The last laugh.

The last time she would hear his voice.

Somedays she was not sure who left who. Those are the happier days. On the days where the sun hides behind the clouds, or near certain dates she felt more she left him. Bella ghosted away and hoped that the feeling would fade and with time the memory would become more of just that. A memory, dulled with time.

It still feels new, she can remember it like it happened last week. It’s always fresh and too new and every time if she dare to seek it, she can find where there is a spot empty in her soul. The piece that she gave Mr Trilby, the toymaker, that he kept.

It’s a different kind of empty. Bella knows she will never be whole and nothing will ever fill that space. She may well be forever incomplete.

And also, with him taken, another string in the disentanglement of Bella and Linus

peoplego

Somethings Are Better said with the lights out

There’s something to be said about the battles Bella had fought. The years spent in humbling realness doing all she could to keep herself from starvation and homelessness. There’s something to be said about the people who stood by and watched it happen. But she wasn’t about to say anything, she did the “adult” thing, she cut them out accordingly. Using whichever method got the job done best for that particular situation. Some were easy some were tough. Sometimes time did the job for her, others, she had to say those cutting but true things,

Bella had worked hard to survive so she had to ask herself, “How the fuck did I end up here… again?”

This thought made her ponder dark thoughts. Was she the problem? Well yes, to some extent. Was she the reason for the misery around her? Again, a little perhaps.

She sat there staring blankly as her mind, somewhere else, put the pieces together. Everyone around her over time seemed to get over her, feel a strong desire to be free of her. She felt like a heavy burden. She sat there, she thought more on how she could fix this mess she found herself. She could only come up with one not so clean, but at least tidy solution.

There’s something to be said in regaining control of one’s life, no matter how dark or permanent.

With that comforting notion, she wrote another letter. The ink from her pen wrote away yet another string in the disentaglement of Bella and Linus

choices

Mother Dearest

I was 14 years old when I learned that it was actually the norm to not just love your mother but like her, adore her, have her treat you like you are indeed a person. 

I was 16 when I learned that it was common for her to be a close confidant and respected person in ones life. 

My most prominent memories of my mother are of resentment and her treating me like an object she owned and her servant. And for a long time I thought that’s how it was supposed to be. No one in my family ever said different and I just never brought it up to my friends. 

The crazy part is, I found a picture today of myself as 5 year old girl with my mother and I remember it wasn’t like that at all. But I can’t recall when or how it changed. 

I know I changed when she made me reloacte to small town hell and I know she changed when she saw my I unhappiness coupled with her preexisting depression and her troubles conceiving a baby after myself and my brother. Truth be told most who know me know I don’t care for my mother and it would appear that I never have. She was a shitty person. And she did shitty things to me and my brother and dad and she didn’t care. 

She died two years ago. I wasn’t very cut up about it. 

At first  

A month ago I dreamt of her. I was in a community hall back home and it was dimly lit. And sitting around a circular table were all the versions of my mother I’ve seen throughout our life. I was a little weary hahaha! But I sat I wanted to speak to her. And that’s when I realized after this long Fucken internal battle with myself over our life and what she did to me and how I treated her because of it that I felt as though I should be nicer because I love her but at the same time she failed hard as a mother and I just couldn’t ever treat her the way she thought I should. 

I have always loved my mom. But fuck me if I didn’t Fucken loathe her. But 20 years ago I not only loved her I trusted her and felt safe and protected when I was with her. I knew she would kick a baby to save my life. She was this bright, active, caring, intelligent, nurturing woman. She took care of us and she gave a shit. My mom who I had until I was 11 is my mom. I love her and I lost her the winter I was 11. But every now and then I would get glimpses of her as an adult. And I was on that shit like white on rice. I spent every moment she was like that with her. 

My mother was an amazing woman who was too self conscious to see what she was capable of. And her mental illness won the war after a hard year in our family. 

Trust me I am not making excuses for her. She shit the bed hard and failed my brother and myself in the most Fucken epic hurtful ways. She was a cunt for the last 15 years and I made sure she knew I felt that way. 

But back to the dream. I told her that the version in the tye dye with the long hair was my favorite her. She was the mom I remember when I think of the happy. I didn’t like who she turned into. She gave up and took it out on us. Among other crap. 

But I told her she was my favorite version of her and I’m sorry but I hated the others. They betrayed me and stole from me and spread lies and cost us a family member becasue she became a selfish coward and she told me she already knew that and it was ok. She hugged me and we smiled and the dream ended as abruptly as it started. 

And I don’t expect anyone to hop on my theory boat here. But I only dream of people when I truly deep down miss them or need them and I believe it’s really them just because of how I feel when it’s over and the way the dream plays out. 

And I truly miss her. I have always loved my mother. The mom that was there when I was little is the reason I kept coming back and I helped take of her when she was sick. Why I ever stopped my kids from seeing her, why despite the shitty person she was I never totally walked away from her. That part of me just couldn’t let her go. 

Fuck I fought myself for years overnt because I didn’t understand it. But I’ve been thinking about her a lot and I saw the picture today and it just hit me. 

My mom was a great Fucken lady when she cared about herself and others. But life happens and it turned her into a whiny greedy manipulative bitch. 

I loved her everyday even when she sucker as a human because she really was wonderful. I just wish she’d never  given up. 

Shit happens and people are people and sometimes we change our minds. 

Well remember this is Mz.R.E forever teaching you how to not live your life. 

Oh and remember children, love your mother. But you don’t have to like her. At all. Ever. 

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