From this summer - recently found in diary
Dear HTSP,
So .... When the hell are you getting here?
I keep on going on dates that seem to go nowhere. Lots of them. I never get past the third date because they are predictable and I am now jaded. My old rule of "three strikes you're out" no longer applies and it appears I have dropped that down to one strike.
I really don't want to have to come to you. I want you to come to me. I've never chased and I don't intend on starting now.
What's up w/ men not wanting to chase anymore? I'm sure if you met me, you'd enjoying chasing me. I am a fun chase. Promise. Promesa.
I could be a Muse. I would be a GREAT muse. I've read all the biographical books on them: Lee Miller, Camille Claudel, Jean Rhys, Anais Nin, Francoise Gilot!!!! I'm up on what I would need to do. I've read the rules. I know the game plan. Just come to my door with a bottle of Rioja or Malbec - I'm ready, I swear.
But what if you never find me? Will I act on my deadline (age 35) and spend a summer in a villa in Barcelona and find you? What then? As I said, I don't chase so this would be an exceptional circumstance.
You have to promise to recite poetry to me. And leave love notes on post-its everywhere - the fridge, the bathroom mirror, my walk-in closet, even the front door if you're feeling courageous.
If - When - you paint me, paint me in purple or lilac or magenta. Something that's warm and looks like it's on fire. That way I'll know how you really feel about me.
Our children will be covered in dirt and paint at all times. They will run about our Andalusian/Argentinian/Montevideo/Catalan backyard as if it is the only paradise they ever knew. They will ask for a pet until they wear us down and we will give in. Don't worry I will walk it. Promesa.
I want our children to have Spanish names. And like 25 names each. Like those famous monarchs from ages ago, that when their names were pronounced, you had to sit there for twenty minutes just for them to finish pronouncing all the hundreds of beautiful syllables.
Anyways - this was just a little push. In your general direction.
Love,
Your Lover
Dear HTSP,
So .... When the hell are you getting here?
I keep on going on dates that seem to go nowhere. Lots of them. I never get past the third date because they are predictable and I am now jaded. My old rule of "three strikes you're out" no longer applies and it appears I have dropped that down to one strike.
I really don't want to have to come to you. I want you to come to me. I've never chased and I don't intend on starting now.
What's up w/ men not wanting to chase anymore? I'm sure if you met me, you'd enjoying chasing me. I am a fun chase. Promise. Promesa.
I could be a Muse. I would be a GREAT muse. I've read all the biographical books on them: Lee Miller, Camille Claudel, Jean Rhys, Anais Nin, Francoise Gilot!!!! I'm up on what I would need to do. I've read the rules. I know the game plan. Just come to my door with a bottle of Rioja or Malbec - I'm ready, I swear.
But what if you never find me? Will I act on my deadline (age 35) and spend a summer in a villa in Barcelona and find you? What then? As I said, I don't chase so this would be an exceptional circumstance.
You have to promise to recite poetry to me. And leave love notes on post-its everywhere - the fridge, the bathroom mirror, my walk-in closet, even the front door if you're feeling courageous.
If - When - you paint me, paint me in purple or lilac or magenta. Something that's warm and looks like it's on fire. That way I'll know how you really feel about me.
Our children will be covered in dirt and paint at all times. They will run about our Andalusian/Argentinian/Montevideo/Catalan backyard as if it is the only paradise they ever knew. They will ask for a pet until they wear us down and we will give in. Don't worry I will walk it. Promesa.
I want our children to have Spanish names. And like 25 names each. Like those famous monarchs from ages ago, that when their names were pronounced, you had to sit there for twenty minutes just for them to finish pronouncing all the hundreds of beautiful syllables.
Anyways - this was just a little push. In your general direction.
Love,
Your Lover
No comments:
Post a Comment