microwaving oz

the microwave sat sealed in its box in the corner of the dining area, as if it had just been delivered that day from UPS.  he never said anything more that day as i just looked up from the box, started crying and ran out of the room.  the microwave was never discussed.  ever, it just sat in the box in the corner.  it was now forgotten, really, but not quite, really.  and we ended up going to a movie on christmas the spirit totally gone for the rest of the day.  and, life as normal continued.

it was my niece that opened the box and took out the microwave and found the christmas gift inside, still wrapped, inside the microwave, which she opened to make her popcorn she brought for dinner at my apartment she was "house sitting" for us that week while we went on vacation.  the old one blew up, literally, when she tried popping her dinner the night before, then, of course, she saw the new one and did what I probably should have done 7 months earlier and set it up for use.  my niece, of course, told us the minute we walked in the door, about the microwave and the explosion and how she "installed" the new one for us, and then she handed me the present that she had found inside the present that disappointed me so much.

she was talking 100 miles an hour about exploding microwaves and a fire, but everything was OK, and the new microwave.  heart stopped.  they had just returned from the most blissful trip together, and there it was that microwave and everything that it meant or didn't mean really.  and here now was an equally beautifully wrapped present which matched the original one thought not exactly, yet by design complementary.

i just looked at it.  and heard nothing else that she was saying, until he asked, "aren't you going to open it?"

i looked up at him, he was smiling, of course, and fortunately that smile he wore bore the bliss of the shore they were still really on in their minds when they walked in the door.  i looked at the present and wondered out loud, "ok, but what could it be?"  i felt my niece looking at me and as i looked in her eyes, curiosity swelled in the smile she held that shifted ever so slightly as she noticed the tear falling now.

i took a deep breathe like i did on christmas day, but today i could tell it was different.  i unwrapped the gift and opened the small box, inside there was a cotton cloth and under it was a piece of paper folded up twice.  i opened it up and all that it said, is "i don't care, i just want to have as much fun with u as possible."

and there we go following along

until we realize we are merely just following along.
not because its a reality we wanted -- that one we dreamed of when we were children -- but it IS the one we moved to by finding the common space of Marginal Comfort, with just enough misery to make us feel alive.

and then *poof* you realize, if I so choose -- you know the point where you decide you are looking for something and not just for something different vis-a-vis what you have -- if we choose to abandon that part of our security that is a source of misery for the unknown, that quest found in the vision so long ago rendered in our mind's eye, renewing the search again to live out that misery born in Cosmic Boredom in its lament for The Partner, The Lover, A Good Fuq, An Intimate Conversation, A Cosmic Consort.

and then ...

you realize that no, that is not how your cosmic consort would be.
knowing what you do not want in a relationship is probably easier than ever know what you do want.
because the truth is, we have NO idea what we want except in relation to what we don't want.  just because we don't want a "man who is out of touch", we also want a man who we can be independent and detached from without ever feeling that way.  The inextricable need to have that person just "there" when you desire to connect (in whatever form that may take in any given moment in time), is the one that drags us down that co-dependent hole of self-destructive habits that breed zombies at an alarming rate.

connection is great.  Connection will drown you in your own selfish distraction of self-sacrifice to the other just so they will feel loved.  Sick really, if you think about it.  Who wants to feel loved?  I want to know I'm loved by having the timing of meaningful connection serendipitous with the desire rather than need, that when there's a purity that is based in positive vibrations.

Ok, so that's not a story, but its what I'm thinking may work given what I know I do not want.  =)