State :: of being, of confusion, of mind, of deterioration.
Picture frame :: This one brought a whole story to mind:
When I was about 17 there was a boy. We’ll call him The Boy just because I no longer deem him worthy of a name. The Boy and I went out for about 7 months and I considered myself in love with him. He had become part of my life. And then, one day, he broke up with me. He explained I was no longer fun and bubbly. It didn’t occur to me until later that my ‘fun and bubbly’ had gone away when he had entered my life. What did happen is that I was heartbroken. I felt unlovable, unwanted, ugly and useless. It was not a good thing. About a month later, The Boy called me and said he had been thinking about me, and how he was a fool, and all of that other romantic dialogue a teenaged girl wants to hear. We went out that weekend, and things were sweet and happy and fun until…we ran into a mutual friend, Mike, and his girlfriend. Mike was surprised to see me with The Boy and said how great it was to see me back in the picture. I smiled. Then The Boy said, “Oh, she’s not in the picture, yet. More like in a tiny little corner in the frame.” I could feel my smile freeze into one of those plastic smiles we plaster on for posed photos. I could feel my insides grow cold. And then anger hit. Dark red anger. The kind of anger that makes people do very bad things. However, due to my deeply ingrained upbringing that hammered home being proper and polite at all times and never, EVER, causing a scene, I kept the smile plastered on. I actually laughed a little, as if I was in on the joke. What I wanted to do was beat The Boy senseless with my purse and then call a taxi to get home. Mike looked upset with The Boy’s comment, made a few more minutes of small talk and then left. The Boy, ever clueless, looked at me with the biggest smile ever and said, “What do you want to do now?” I said, “Go home.” He went on about how early it was, etc. but, I said I wanted to go home and home I went. The worst part about it is how pathetic I felt. I hate feeling pathetic. My fantasies of him changed to ones of him dangling from a frayed rope over a pit of sharks, to standing upon a dark and windy English cliff in full Victorian dress. My skirts would gently billow in the wind, he would profess his love, I would place my hand over his heart and then give a big shove! I never did understand the whole ‘I’ll jump off a cliff and die and then he’ll be sorry’ thing. What’s the point? You’re dead. You won’t get to enjoy the sorry that they feel. I decided that he would be much more sorry if I pushed him off the cliff. Anyway, there is a point to this. That moment stuck with me, but instead of feeling the shame and embarrassment, I use the episode to my advantage. When things are getting over powering, or people are not behaving well, I ask myself if I want to be in the picture, or just a tiny bit of the frame.
5. Wreath :: The little glowy wreath that the Ghost of Christmas Present wears in A Christmas Carol.
6. Arrest :: Something I have never been under.
7. Sincere :: The tiny Christmas tree in Charlie Brown's Christmas.
8. Nathan :: Michelle's Ex.
9. Bag :: Never big enough and always too heavy.
10. Arched :: Eyebrows. Like Joan Crawford's or Bette Davis'. (Bet you thought I was going to come up with another Christmas reference, didn't ya?)
What did happen is that I was heartbroken. I felt unlovable, unwanted, ugly and useless. It was not a good thing. About a month later, The Boy called me and said he had been thinking about me, and how he was a fool, and all of that other romantic dialogue a teenaged girl wants to hear. We went out that weekend, and things were sweet and happy and fun until…we ran into a mutual friend, Mike, and his girlfriend. Mike was surprised to see me with The Boy and said how great it was to see me back in the picture. I smiled. Then The Boy said, “Oh, she’s not in the picture, yet. More like in a tiny little corner in the frame.”
I could feel my smile freeze into one of those plastic smiles we plaster on for posed photos. I could feel my insides grow cold. And then anger hit. Dark red anger. The kind of anger that makes people do very bad things.
However, due to my deeply ingrained upbringing that hammered home being proper and polite at all times and never, EVER, causing a scene, I kept the smile plastered on. I actually laughed a little, as if I was in on the joke. What I wanted to do was beat The Boy senseless with my purse and then call a taxi to get home. Mike looked upset with The Boy’s comment, made a few more minutes of small talk and then left. The Boy, ever clueless, looked at me with the biggest smile ever and said, “What do you want to do now?”
I said, “Go home.”
He went on about how early it was, etc. but, I said I wanted to go home and home I went. The worst part about it is how pathetic I felt. I hate feeling pathetic. My fantasies of him changed to ones of him dangling from a frayed rope over a pit of sharks, to standing upon a dark and windy English cliff in full Victorian dress. My skirts would gently billow in the wind, he would profess his love, I would place my hand over his heart and then give a big shove! I never did understand the whole ‘I’ll jump off a cliff and die and then he’ll be sorry’ thing. What’s the point? You’re dead. You won’t get to enjoy the sorry that they feel. I decided that he would be much more sorry if I pushed him off the cliff.
Anyway, there is a point to this.
That moment stuck with me, but instead of feeling the shame and embarrassment, I use the episode to my advantage. When things are getting over powering, or people are not behaving well, I ask myself if I want to be in the picture, or just a tiny bit of the frame.
5. Wreath :: The little glowy wreath that the Ghost of Christmas Present wears in A Christmas Carol.
6. Arrest :: Something I have never been under.
7. Sincere :: The tiny Christmas tree in Charlie Brown's Christmas.
8. Nathan :: Michelle's Ex.
9. Bag :: Never big enough and always too heavy.
10. Arched :: Eyebrows. Like Joan Crawford's or Bette Davis'. (Bet you thought I was going to come up with another Christmas reference, didn't ya?)