Monday, April 28, 2014

Ghost- Jeremy Messersmith

Though not for everybody, it's not country so you can listen to it. 
my favorite lyrics in the song:
If there is a line I'll cross it, no lesson will I learn
Even if I'm standing on it, no bridge that I won't burn
Coming back to where we started, I'm only passing through

"Every Love Story is a Ghost Story"-DFW

This is not a love story. At least not in the way that this term is taken today. At the end, the girl doesn't get the boy (or girl, in this modern age.) At this point, it is a little early to tell what the girl does get. (And she's not a girl either. She's a woman. She's over 30. Not only is she older than her mother was when she had her, but she's older than her mother was when she remarried and did her 'happily ever after,' even though we should all know by now that 'happily ever after' is only the start of all the real hard work. Though of course we always forget that.)

But maybe it is a love story. Because the girl, wait, scratch that, woman has found love. Lots of love. Love she didn't think she'd find again. She found two people to love at the same time. On the same date that was supposed to just be for a side fling D/s relationship. (She was supposed to marry a lawyer and start having kids, but that didn't exactly work out like the fairy tale it was on paper.) So she did find love and people who wanted to commit to her and start a family, though not the traditional kind of family but a family nonetheless. She moved in and they started making plans for getting a bigger place, one to fit the three of them, allowing them each space and privacy and give the visiting child a place of his own too.

But this is not a love story because it doesn't end there. Love stories always end there, at the happily ever after. The woman has two major shortcomings. One is that she doesn't work a job that allows for her to work enough hours to pay (what she feels is) her fair share, at least not without working so much that she has a nervous breakdown. Which leads us to her second and larger shortcoming- she's crazy. I'm trying not to put this in a derogatory way, but just the facts. She is bipolar and has borderline personality disorder. To say the least, she has a low tolerance for distress and doesn't have as good of an ability to bounce back as the average person. She's doing better than she has in the past and she tries to work on being better but things are as they are right now and she will probably always be this person to some extent.

This is also not a love story because her lovers also have shortcomings. Not cute ones that resolve themselves by the time they decide to be together or ones that the lover is miraculously able to change by the time they coming running through the airport to stop their lover from leaving. Nope. These people are who they are as well. She knows this and loves them because they are who they are, though, like everyone, sometimes she'd like them to do something(s) differently. She tries for unconditional but she's not perfect. Mostly she just tries to not be one of those types who wants to change a person. But as things got closer to moving day, everyone was stressed and had turned inward and away from each other. "This is just how they are," she told herself. "It will cycle back and everything will be fine after the move."

This is not a love story because they didn't move. The apartment complex was gonna screw them and they decided not to sign the lease. They were a week away from moving, half packed. While they felt triumphant in not getting screwed and working as a family, they were now further away from their goal of living together in a larger place. And the woman was still just as worried as she had been before about being able to afford her share of any place they got that was big enough. Hell, if anything she was more worried. The place that they thought they could afford was only that way because they screw people out of money. Everyone else was still stressed and turned inward. She was so lonely. Every night she went to bed alone. There was very little physical or sexual contact in the household, which was what she craved to keep her head straight, to feel loved and wanted. It's not that they didn't show her or tell her that they loved or wanted her, just that it wasn't in a way that she could take in. That first week after she had a heavier schedule because she had told her work she needed more hours to afford the new apartment. She caved under all the pressure. By Friday, she missed a shift, no call no show. Only a compassionate coworker who's son has bipolar saved her job, or so she is hoping. She started to spiral into that suicidal depression she had struggled with all her life, blocking everyone out herself.

This is not a love story because the woman is leaving. It's not unreasonable for her to ask for the things she asks for. (At least for the most part.) And it's not unreasonable for them to say that they can't give her those things, at least not right now, at least not at the level she needs them. But that leaves her feeling lonely and unloved by people who are just in the next room. Which will leave her resentful and angry before too long. The woman has a friend who has space to rent out in her house for pretty cheap and, though it is her friend, if she can't pull her weight there, it will only be her who eats ramen noodles every night and her credit that gets fucked up. (Update: the woman's friend's therapist doesn't think it's good for two crazy chicks to live together so she's not really sure what she's going to do. )

This is not a love story because the woman knows that leaving could mean the end to their story. Though they cry together and reassure each other that they are still together and it will actually be more special when she comes to visit because they won't have seen each other for awhile and they'll be all over each other as soon as she walks through the door and they are making plans for how to actually shore up their relationship, she knows this could be the beginning of the end, the slow death of what they had but could not sustain. The woman has seen lots of movies and love stories don't end with the heroine alone with her two cats in a two room mother-in-law apartment on the other side of town. But the woman knows she'll kill herself if she stays, that she is killing herself with each night that she masturbates and then cries herself to sleep when the people she want to have sex with are just twenty feet away. The woman knows that it is killing them too. That there isn't enough for them to care for her hurt in the ways they do and care for themselves and/or each other too.

So this is not a love story.

Wednesday, April 02, 2014

"You get me dancing and you make me sing"

I really am supposed to be leaving for work, so this will be as quick as I can make it.

So I've had this little snipit of lyrics in my head for the past several weeks but I don't have the cd anymore and it's not readily available as (legal) mp3, so I haven't been able to listen to the whole song. This morning, as I took a bit of extra time to enjoy the amazing spring storm, I listened to (covers of) that song and another one of my favorites off that same album. And they hit me like a ton of bricks.

That maybe this is what the men and lady in my life feel, that part that I can't touch, part of a part of what keeps a bleary eyed Professor up hours after I've gone to bed.

This is a song that nobody knows
I couldn't begin to describe how it goes
But it makes me cry or laugh right out loud
It's a song that I sing when there's no one around

This is the man that nobody sees
He wears my old clothes and he looks just like me
Just one of the boys who gets lost in the crowd
He's the man that I am when there's no one around

It's four in the morning
Im lyin' in bed
A tape of my failures
Playin' inside my head
It's heartaches and hard knocks
And things I don't know
I listen and I wonder
Where will it go

This is a glimpse of the child that's within
He's so immature but he's still my best friend
If he could learn how to fly he'd never touch down
He's the kid that I am when there's no one around

This is the dance I do every day
I let my feet go and get carried away
I let my soul lead and follow the sound
It's the dance that I do when there's no one around

It's four in the morning
Im lyin' in bed
A tape of my failures
Playin' inside my head
It's heartaches and hard knocks
And things I don't know
I listen and I wonder
Where will it go

This is a song that nobody knows
I still can't begin to describe how it goes
But it makes me cry or laugh right out loud
It's a song that I sing when there's no one around
It's a song that I sing when there's no one around

But this song that I've been hearing the little bit of in my head is what my people make me feel like, how I hope I sometimes make them feel. It's Ginger's belief that everything will be all right. It's Moneypenny's belief that there is always something more profound to uncover and share with each other. It's TyRoy's straight-forward drive. It's The Professor's ...well, all the things that I can't describe or understand about what he does to me and his faith that this is the right thing for all of us.
(lyrics for those who can't bear the country)
This is how it seems to me 
Life is only therapy 
Real expensive 
And no guarantee 

So I lie here on the couch 
With my heart hanging out 
Frozen solid with fear 
Like a rock in the ground 

But you move me 
You give me courage I didn’t 
know I had 
You move me on 
I can’t go with you 
And stay where I am 
So you move me on 

This is how love was to me 
I could look and not see 
Going through the emotions 
Not knowin’ what they mean 

And it scared me so much 
That I just wouldn’t budge 
I might have stayed there forever 
If not for your touch 

Oh but you move me 
Out of myself and into the fire 
You move me 
Now I’m burning with love 
And with hope and desire 
How you move me 

You go whistling in the dark 
Making light of it 
Making light of it 
And I follow with my heart 
Laughing all the way 

Oh ‘cause you move me 
You get me dancing and you 
make me sing 
You move me 
Now I’m taking delight 
In every little thing 
How you move me