Later on, when
he's asleep, and I'm nestled in a tangle of his arms and legs, I think
about the evening. So now I
have all these bits of information. Little bits and flits that form maybe the outline of a
puzzle. Not the whole
thing. It suggests a
picture. We're still not
all the way there. Oh my
God, what does it take? You
wanted to know shit about him, BOOM here's your shit.
He's afraid of spiders. Yippee.
Shut up and be happy now. What
more do you want? What more
do you want?
And of course I
still feel like hell. I
feel like the meanest person in the world, because I had to pull the
information out of him like it was some diseased tooth or something.
If he volunteered it, I'd be happy.
My God, I'm so
retarded. I really hate
myself right now. I'm like
the fucking kid in the candy store who begs and pleads and whines and
moans and bitches for his mom to PPPPLLLLLEEEEAAASSSSEEE buy him a
sucker. And the mom doesn't
want to, no no honey, you can't have it, you'll ruin your dinner. You'll get sick if you eat it.
kid throws himself in the middle of the floor and SCREAMS, so
she buys it, and he eats it all, and gets really really sick.
Don't ask for the shit if you won't shut up once you get
it. Just shut up
about it. Just shut
up. Put the sucker
down and slowly back away.
don't deserve him if this is what you're gonna do to him.
You don't deserve him if this is what you're gonna do to