ce matin la

How I hate the ‘M’ word.
I can’t seem to control my thoughts of darkness every time it is brought up in conversation or flashing in front of me in some cheesy advert.
The ‘M’ word does not equal love to me.
The ‘M’ word does not equal eternal joy.

Mom brought up the ‘M’ word again today. She had phoned for the usual interrogation.
“You remember S.T don’t you.” She began as a picture of the gerbil looking young girl floated in to my minds eye.
“yes, barely.” I replied already plotting an excuse to quickly hang up and proceed with the miniature orgasm session I had planned with my box ‘o toys.
“She’s getting married!”
Well, what do you think?” She asked carefully.
“Good for her.” I replied flatly. “Amazing actually.” Considering the repulsive set of features the good Lord above had decided to bless her with.
“Her mother is relieved of course, no more rumors floating about.”
“The rumours. Of course.”
More silence followed.
“So how are things with you? Seeing any one special? Did that doctor get a hold of you yet. I gave him your email address, such a charming young man.”
“Oh shit mom I have to go. There is another line.”

The box ‘o toys now lie forgotten underneath my bed. I need more than batteries and gizmos.
I need the real thing, more than just the sex.
I need the warmth of a man next to me.
And I need it now.


July 26, 2007. C'est Moi.

One Comment

  1. mojitomojo replied:

    *SIGH* You’re right on the whole marriage thing.

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