i must be made of concrete.
do you have an opinion?
a mind of your own?
i thought you were special.
i thought you should know.
but ive run out of patience.
i couldnt care less.
Demigod Monologue:
“I know you're gonna go...I know it. I've been thinking a lot about what you said and I believe that you love me too...And I understand that she gives you something else, something you need I guess is what you said. I wanted to apologize for yesterday. I was so confused, you know. I didn't know what to do with myself...I mean, two years... what does a person do? Do I have a nervous breakdown? Do I start a new career? Do I go and have an affair with O.J. Simpson? I mean, what do I do? I felt so ugly, and I don't mean looks, I mean ugly...you know?
Then you held me and touched the back of my neck and kissed me and said the things you said and I felt a lot better. So, I did our laundry, like I always do on Sundays. And in the middle of folding our bedspread, I noticed your jock strap in the washing machine. Drowning in the wash cycle. It was twisting and turning, being mangled and manipulated into all sorts of painful positions. It looked as if it were crying out for help, poor thing. Then the strangest thing...I imagined you were still in it...the jock strap I mean. I got hysterical. I mean, I couldn't stop laughing. I thought it was the funniest thing I ever thought of...People started staring at me...a woman came up to me and said I should be careful not to inhale too much of that fabric softener ...Then all of a sudden I heard your voice. So I ran over to the machine, lifted up the lid, and I could hear you in there, choking in the Clorox 2 and the Lemon Fab. But I couldn't make out what you were saying, so I yelled, "What is it, what are you saying?" And the manager of the laundromat yelled back, "I'm gonna call the police if you don't stop yelling at your wash, lady!"
It made me think. It made me think that maybe I'm not handling this too well. I can't drop two years of being lovers and go back to being friends. We were never friends. We slept together on the first date, remember? And I know you really want to leave on good terms, like telling me that you love me and all, but I really think it'll be better if we break up as enemies. It'll be better for me just to hate you openly instead of being so adult about it, don't you think? I mean, why be adult about it? So we can meet for lunch and laugh about all this? So you can tell me about your lovers and I can tell you about my lovers? So we can sleep together for old times sake?
I don't want to be your friend. I love you, but I never said I liked you.
And if being adult means throwing me away for that slut-rag you picked up on the train platform, then the most mature thing I could do for you would be to rip your face off.
Yeah! That would make me feel so much better!”
the end.