Debauchery Soup

I gingerly opened the packet she’d thoughtfully brought back for me from England. Inside, a circle adorned with daisies.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it.” And I did. Do.

My glance shifted down as I stroked one of the flowers.

“Try it on!” She was smiling – and for good reason. She had brought me something special. I was cringing inside.

I placed the ring atop my head and braced myself. The daisy chain I was to wear when I wed ironically perched as I looked for words.

“Mom …”

I looked over to my love – asking for help with no words.

“We’re not getting married.” He said for me. Sparing me the bitter taste of that sentence.

_____________________________________

When I arrived this morning at the laundromat, it was still closed. Then the laundry lady spotted me and opened up the doors.

“How are you?” She asked.

“Good. You?”

I grabbed my baskets and met her inside.

There has got to be a polite response for ‘How are you?’ when you don’t want to say ‘Good’ or sound too maudlin saying anything other than that.

‘Fine’ is a cop out.

But I am OK.

Is ‘OK’ sufficient?

I stuffed my machines and now sit listening to rain beating down on the laundromat roof.

Sounds like every washing machine is on and angry – beating the clothes in a deluge of water.

Pouring.

And apropos as I wipe a tear from my cheek.

_____________________________________

“Why?” My mom asked? With genuine love in her eyes.

I was terrified she’d be angry.

That I would have let her down one more time.

The girl incapable of lasting relationships.

“We care enough to want the best for each other.” Was all I could get out. And we sat in silence for a while. A horror movie flickering in all of our peripheral line of sight. No one really watching it.

_____________________________________

The thing about fantasies, you have a certain image or memory in your head and over time – it becomes truth.

My truth was that a young man was in love with me approximately 25 years ago, and in my stupidity, didn’t see it. He was one of my dearest friends. We spent many hours together experiencing life. He was there for me in my darkest hours.

When I lost touch with him – I missed him terribly.

The years went on and I somehow convinced myself I was ‘the one who got away’, and wouldn’t he be surprised if I could find him and profess my stupidity and tell him I’d always loved him!

_____________________________________

“Do you see this happening?”

We both knew the answer.

It was a kind and loving conversation about ending a relationship. We sat out on the porch and spoke our truths into the early hours of Saturday morning.

The spell was broken when I heard for the second time, “Because I don’t love you as much as you love me.” It had not come from my mouth.

Oh how I adore his honesty – as much as it stung. I love authenticity.

And oh how I had flattered myself all those years! Selfish and egotistical.

_____________________________________

He does love me.

He does.

And I him.

But are we meant to be married?

When he first visited it was a grand reunion!

We’d both been alone for years. We were attracted to each other. We had a past. We had so much in common it was ridiculous. We rushed to build upon those things. Already caring for one another. We had a foundation of what was and that is nothing but sand. Never build upon sand.

I’m reminded of the Johnny Cash song Jackson. “We got married in a fever, hotter than a pepper sprout …”

We did everything in a fever. Fell in love … made quick plans to be together. I wanted to give him the world. I wanted to give him opportunities he’d never had with his art. I wanted to give him a home.

And he’d been needing one. Traditions – a family. To be loved and needed and to feel like a man.

I needed to give.

I needed to love.

And I do love him. We are comfortable together. He is my best friend.

But what we want to give and what we’re capable of giving in reality are two very different things.

Here is a man who thrived in the hum and wonderful chaos of Chicago and found himself in a quiet one road town.

Here is a man needing surgeries – and I, without insurance – can’t give him that.

I found myself falling short – financially and emotionally.

So much I couldn’t be or do.

And then came the resentment. I resented myself for failing – then I resented him.

I was swallowing words that landed hard in my belly. And when those words made me ache I spat them out cruelly.

He didn’t deserve that.

I pulled away.

Disappointed in myself.

For so many reasons.

I had learned long ago how to be alone without being lonely, and this sudden addition took some getting used to – I’m not going to lie.

Yet, I sat with him outside yesterday and couldn’t imagine the chair across from me empty.

I lay curled into his arm last night, not being able to imagine feeling the weight of him beside me.

I feel like a shell. An empty shell right this moment.

Knowing we’ve made the right decision and already mourning what could have been and the loss of what is.

I have new wants today.

I want the man I love to be happy.

I want the man I love to find his ever after.

I want the man I love to remember me years from now, and smile.

I want this for myself too – but I want it for him more.

I spent too many years indulging myself in false memories – and now it is the truth that has given me selflessness.

And I will always love him.

Now to find the strength I know I possess to gracefully let go.

Posted in Love, Musings from the laundromat, My Favorites

3 Comments

Tags: broken hearts, Love, the end of a relationship, weddings

Musings from the Laundromat: The Staked Plains edition

Oct 11

Posted by debaucherysoup

I don’t know what I did to deserve an Advance Reading Copy of Stefan Kiesbye’s new book ‘The Staked Plains’, but the invitation came from the author himself and that alone made me feel incredible.

Not one to look a gift author in the mouth, and considering he is one of my favorite authors, of course I politely and calmly said yes, I would LOVE to be included.

OK, it didn’t come out like that. It was more – ‘teenage girl spots favorite boy band and proceeds to fan girl the fuck out.’

I was introduced to Kiesbye’s work when I read ‘Your House Is on Fire, Your Children all Gone’ in 2013.

I did the ‘carry the book around whilst bumping into walls’ thing with that one. My nook went with me everywhere until the last sentence.

You know you have read a great book when you come out of that last page much like you would a matinee of a great movie. Blinking against the light of day and disoriented.

Yesterday presented the perfect opportunity to sink into The Staked Plains and I proceeded to read the entire novella with a minimum of bathroom breaks. No, the book did not come with me – are you kidding? It’s my ARC copy! I did hate to leave it on the couch though and hurried back to it.

When I reached the last few paragraphs, I greedily read them. And then sat – stunned.

Absolutely stunned.

“He did it again.” Was my first thought.

Not just write a damn good book, but managed to throw marbles under the feet of the reader. I was off kilter. Needing more! I kept flipping to the ‘Acknowledgements’ and ‘About the Author’ pages hoping they’d magically fill with more of Kiesbye’s words.

Remember I’ve shared this before:

Well, in this case, the curtains aren’t always blue. Never mind Shrek, Kiesbye is like an onion! Layers upon layers that you KNOW are there but too absorbed to ‘get’ on a first reading. I know for a fact that I’ll need to read this book many more times and maybe even get a degree in archeology before completely understanding.

I love that by the way. I don’t want to be dumbed down by a book. I want to feel almost unworthy reading it. I want the book to challenge me as I try to figure out who the characters are and why they’re doing what they’re doing – and honestly, with this book, Kiesbye keeps throwing those marbles.

I had told Stefan in an email that I would be reviewing the book today – and jokingly said “You don’t mind if I open with the last paragraph right?” I would never. But – let me try to sum up The Staked Plains without giving any of the meat away. (OK, without trying, that last sentence might be an Easter Egg for you.)

For me, on first read – it’s about humanity in a barren environment, with a heaping spoonful of the supernatural. No one is who they seem – and yet they are. Human. Whatever that means. And while the characters are written honestly, I still found myself surprised by what they were capable of – and of what they weren’t.

But that IS humanity no?

We’re all layers. Capable of such good and born with so many juxtapositions inside of us.

The book made me uncomfortable because I felt like I was looking in a mirror and seeing everything I fight not to be, everything that is complex and ugly about me that I can’t tamp down sometimes. And, everything honest and beautiful about my self too.

Currently – the publication date for The Staked Plains is November 24th of this year. THANK YOU Saddle Road Press for publishing this amazing book. And, THANK YOU Stefan for remembering a fan who reached out two years ago with “Hurry up and write another book.”

Posted in Musings from the laundromat, My Favorites, Uncategorized

1 Comment

Tags: Advance Reading Copy, Author, Book Review, books, Stefan Kiesbye, The Staked Plains, writing, Your Children all Gone, Your House is on Fire

Birds on a windy wire …

Oct 4

Posted by debaucherysoup

Sitting outside and in the FAR distance I spot pigeons perched on a swinging wire. Huddled down – swinging like a bird festoon adorning the background of the mountains.

It was tough – but I managed to weather (no pun intended) the wind and even though my camera was shaky – capture these. Please know HOW far away they were. “Like, really far away.” (She says like the Valley Girl she’s not.)

Posted in Photography & Art

Musings from the Laundromat: Fawn Legs, Secret Apple eating Agents and ARC edition

This is the last I’m going to speak of being sick. I think if I convince myself I’m better, my body will follow. Besides, it gets boring being sick, I can only imagine how it feels reading about it.

I’m late at the laundromat – put English comedy on last night and it proceeded to watch me. I have slept so much it’s bonkers.

Felt like a weighted newborn fawn this morning balancing the two hefty laundry baskets on either side of my thinner frame. (I’ve lost a few pounds in the process of mending.)

Throat still sore – a few coughs, but I’m sure I’m not contagious anymore, so, back to work tomorrow. I’ve missed everyone! I have! And was a little concerned when I was conscious, that work hadn’t called me. Then Friday, I got the call. Yes, they still knew I existed and yes, my inbox was growing taller by the day with work. I was VERY happy about this.

I then got an email that I, in one hundred years would not have expected.

It was from one of my favorite authors.

Would I like an ARC of his new book?

Are you kidding me? First of all, he somehow remembered me from 2013 and secondly, ARE YOU KIDDING ME??!!

I proceeded to fan girl out and make a fool of myself. To be fair, I was still on pain killers, antibiotics and depleted human skills.

Well, I hope I didn’t scare him off too badly.

And yes, of course I asked for an interview – and he said yes. That’s if he talks to me again.

I’ve been doing a lot of stupid things lately. Not feeling like myself.

Not feeling like I even like myself of late either. Good thing is, I can absolutely change all of that.

I’ve got to focus. Regroup. Prioritize.

In the meantime, here I am, at the laundromat – taking care of business and … thinking about my next nap if I’m being completely honest.

In between sleeping, I did manage to catch up on all the Agents of Shield episodes on Netflix though.

And it’s either THAT, or the fact that he DOES look like an agent that has me cutting my eye over at this man across from me right now.

Nonchalantly eating an apple and reading a magazine. Not just any magazine, but, as I walked by him to collect my washing, I did my surveillance – it’s a gossip rag. Look at the posture? Who sits like that anymore? (She says jealously.) And he’s wearing nice shoes.

Hmmmm …. definitely some sort of law enforcement or undercover agent sent to check on the infected.

I’m exhausted. My little shaky fawn legs clearly aren’t the only deer traits I’ve adopted. I’m staring at him whilst typing with wary eyes and ready to leap if I hear a leaf crunch.

Yeah, ok, that’s silly – there are no leaves. But you know what I mean.

Only thing that doesn’t fit is, he does have his back to the room.

I’m losing it.

Told you I was sick.

But if you don’t hear from me next week – send out the cavalry. I could be in a quarantined area much like the one in Fear the Walking Dead!!!

THEN how would I get my ARC of Kiesbye’s book???

Posted on October 4, 2015 | Video

Out of the bedroom – into the light

Oct 2

Posted by debaucherysoup

It’s been almost a week now – I finally came out of the bedroom this morning, on wobbly legs. Found my way to the couch, and plonked down on it.

That’s when I took in my surroundings – blinking like a cave dweller seeing things in the light for the first time in a while.

I had clearly been blocking out the kitchen during my pathetic visits to grab ice and liquids.

Something had to be done.

So I got off the couch – and did it.

Kitchen is now clean, and I’d managed to work up a sweat getting it that way.

Bathing was in order.

I’m still sick.

When I get hit – I get hit hard.

Pink eye, strep throat, fever and now a headache that’s been clinging on for 3 straight days … I’ve used up all my ‘vacation’ time. Although, let’s face it, I wasn’t headed off to the Bahamas anytime soon.

I didn’t realize I could sleep SO much and still be tired!

During cleaning the kitchen, I noticed lack of provisions and proceeded to make a list for the men of the house. There’s no way I’m going out in public.

Also, I don’t trust myself to drive yet – or make it an entire lap around a grocery store, unless I get to sit in one of those little cars.