Sunday, December 21, 2008

Books are good and all

but I don't need to keep reading the story of the withdrawn, brooding, yet secretly impassioned romantic who can neither accept nor express his love for a particular woman. This woman is usually emotionally vacant, but specifically extraordinary and inscrutable.

I am not this woman.

Instead I need to be reading about the heroine who falls out of love with said withdrawn, brooding malcontent and finds herself contented to be terrifically alone. Terrifically.

And no, she doesn't find a shiny, healthy new love to replace the former. There is no initial dismissive banter, followed by swelling cathartic epiphany.

That just doesn't happen, and won't.

Maybe instead she knocks herself up with a turkey baster and a nice gay friend's biological contribution. There's some question of whether or not this is feministic of her, but it probably isn't.

And it's not to say she'll never love again, but that she'll decide not to be in love under these circumstances, because they are shitty. She'll have a routine, she'll learn a strategy and reteach herself to think. She'll defend herself against him. And it will WORK--clear, clean, decisively. Yes, self-awareness is overrated.

Today, outside the club, two couples descended from a cab. One of the men carried his lady over the frozen sidewalk like a bride. The other couple started fighting.

"You wouldn't do that for me. Not even last night."
It was much snowier the night before.
"When you were wearing your crocodile shoes..."

Everything is so depressing.

So, any reading recommendations, absentee audience?

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