As the weather turns colder, our bodies & brains yearn for things (or people) that have once kept us warm. We band together and bang together to start a little fire & thaw out; get the feeling back in ourselves again.This week, in the sudden turn of cold, I have caught myself wanting several times to spoon the stranger in the train seat next to me to steal his body heat.
I think the cold makes one urge for two things, mainly. Alcohol and / or a nice warm bod.
I decided against all of these things (as most of the time i was at work- awkward) but my mind flashed back to a night when I was kept quite toasty by a particularly snuggly Past Tense. And then came the shiver.
It made me realise, in my seek for sunlight, that there is always a part of you that waits for someone in your past to come back. No matter how hidden or denied, i believe theres a little pandora in all of us, waiting patiently to be reopened so the trouble can start all over again.
The romantic in us never wants to completely rite someone off... Until too much time passes.
Apologising after it is far too late is like putting a packet of bandaids on a mountain of lava. Even if you strap a hundred of the suckers on there, and even if melting is involved, it'll still disappear as if they never were there.
So what is there to do when one wants to fuel their winter fire without the will-he-call-me blues?
Drink! Or work out.. But who wants to do that?
The Past Tense (as I must remember him as) once told me that people speak their true feelings when they are drunk... of course, that would require actually intending to do some talking between the aggressive face embracing that you end up doing.
I guess someone is either 'it' or 'Not At All', and maybe everything in between is just instant gratification.
It takes two to keep the flame alight, or the lid to pandora opened or closed. If the other party doesn't help carry the load, you are just standing there with a blown out candle and a used box.
The poor Nice Guys out there.. I think they miss out because there are just too many ways to play Bad Cop, Drunk Cop, Laid Cop these days...
Having said that, I can't blame alcohol for his or my poor POOR judgement, as I've realised everyone that I happen to dislike is a non drinker!
I don't know what it is about the clean living, liver loving, water & wheat grass freaks out there. Don't they know what they are missing? Maybe it's because they don't get the opportunity to
- be irreparably Something (stupid, hilarious, whorey) and let go
- have a rambling deep and meaningful and exercise ones right to get a little bit Ghandi on the Shiraz
- have a public vom, pee, or other display of bodily Something
- empathise with your hangover but..
My being friends with a non drinker seems to be as frequent as a leprechaun riding a mammoth-cross-unicorn through Hogwarts.. and maybe till now, I liked it like that.
I guess no one likes to be a booze-racist, so I'm trying to start seeing how the other half live. Shudder.
There's something about the freezing cold that makes me want to leave the perfectly good warmth of home, strip down into my gym gear, strap down my girls with duct tape so they don't escape and show the real girls how it's done... yeah right. But that's another fail for another blog to come.
Strapping on my nikes, setting down the beer goggles & saving the sambuca.
<3 Miss Coordinate