(No – I have not gone crazy. This is called Meditation – For easy to follow, I have called alternative me Mr.P)
Mr.P: “How’s Boston?”
Me: “it’s going great I think. Gorgeous weather. Sunshine. Warm. Not usual this time a year in Boston. I’m a bit too early for the spring flowers. But it’s still gorgeous”
Mr.P: “And the seafood”
Me: “Yes the seafood. I wish I had more time to plan it better. The trip was a little rushed and I didn’t have any time to plan”
Mr.P “But you are having a good time, though”
Me: “I think I am. Some 28-year-old resident at Massachusett General hospital called me sexy today. He even evoked my all-time-favorite pick-up line – Your mind is very sexy.”
Mr.P: “Aint that a good thing?”
Me: “I don’t know. Maybe 16 years ago a compliment like that would have made my heart jumps out of my chest. These days, I don’t know. I somehow feel like an imposter in my own body you know. I’m 37. Where did the years go? It’s always hard for me to classify myself as desirable”
Mr.P: “But this isn’t just about your look”
Me: “Yeah. But my brain has been feeling a little foggy lately. I don’t know if I’m doing ok at my job”
Mr.P: “Didn’t your boss say he is grateful he found you or something?”
Me: “Yeah. I guess. But the last 3 directors quit so he might just want to keep me by buttering me up”
Mr.P: “You’re not even grateful, are you?”
Me: “For what?”
Mr.P: “You’re alive. What’s little pain compared to that?”
Me: “You’re seriously NOT quoting Six Feet Under to me”
Mr.P: “It’s you who insist on quoting that pretentious show that your husband hates”
Me: “He hates a lot of things I like”
Mr.P: “Do you resent that?”
Me: “It’s like food. You can’t force someone to like what they don’t like, since they are adults. Unlike how you can force children to eat broccoli. To be honest I’m grateful for him. You know I am.”
Mr.P: “So what’s this whole deal with you?”
Me: “I think I just missed the version of us that we used to be. Not this post-pandemic couple. Not this couple who has nothing common to watch on TV – or have nothing common to do aside from watching TV. Not this couple who argue over phone usage. I miss the version of him that says smooth crazy things like Being smart looks very sexy on you. I miss this person who sneaks in 2 hours before my friend arrives at the airport so we can spend some time together. I miss this big bold person who takes risk and not ground himself to a place, to a house, to a city”
Mr.P: “You know you hang on to pain as if it means something; as if it is worth something. Let it go. Endless possibilities and all he does is whine.”
Me: “Seriously fuck right off with the Six Feet Under quote already”
Mr.P: “Seriously, remind yourself of the promise you said on your wedding day. You promised not to fuck up. You’re fucking this up”
Me: “Tell me how to unfuck it then. Oh, wise one?”
Mr.P: “Don’t you see, you hate this studio apartment. You don’t want to move to another city and not have furniture. Where are you growing your garden? Where are you putting your studio equipment? You don’t hate your life. What you have is a temper tantrum nervous breakdown because you are aging and you are terrified of losing your edge in your career, that your partner finds someone else more attractive than you, that you are abandoned and isolated because people don’t care about you. You know, like how you always fucked up your relationships and friendships in the past. You know how to fix this. You’re the wise one in this. You are me.”
Me: “And then what”
Mr.P “Be happy. Because you know deep down you are. You just need to allow yourself to be. You deserved this. Happiness is a choice. So choose. Remember, you choose this.”
Me: “Enough with the quotes already”
Mr.P: “Well, if you think I am obnoxious with the quotes, you are not ready to learn how your friends feel about your quotes.”
Pace Fine Arts 