7.15

Tonight blog post is inspired by Lauren with her quote "idk... Relationships? Future? Present? Cats?". 
Thanks Lauren. I hope you are doing well.

So, relationships. 
Well, my first thought is that I hate relationships, but that isn't true at all. I know that is the impression most people have of me, and, I guess, I say it a lot, but I really don't hate them. I feel more apathetic towards romantic relationships. If one was to objectively look at the "relationships" I am presently in or have been in, one would find that I am extremely uncommitted to any human outside of myself. It's not that I actively avoid relationships, they always passively occur for me. I do well independently, attract someone, put up way too many boundaries, and it sits in a way that neither of us are committed, but it would be awkward if we started seeing anyone else. And the worst part is that I am totally okay with living like this. 
Things are about to get real. 
No one really had "the talk" with me. My mother gave me the appropriate version for my childhood innocence when I was 8 or 9, but you can not explain anything that a mother needs to teach to a daughter at that age. My dad did his best and would give me books, literal text books, on this shit. And it's not that I needed someone to sit down with me and show me, but when you aren't surrounded by those things and you aren't being told how to do them, you quickly separate yourself from it. I put it off, and it was never important in my life. I assumed someone would be with me in the future but never put any importance in to making it happen. 
I like being alone. 
I know how to be alone. 
Even though I might not have had a mother to usher me through life, I had a cat. 
Lc hated me at first. 
When Valerie handed her to me, Lc instantly clawed her way over my shoulder and out of my arms. I spent the next 3 days taking shifts sitting with her in the back-hall bathroom. She didn't really like to be petted, so I took my sketch book and colored pencils and drew her. I liked the lines coming from her eyes and how her face was asymmetrical like mine. Her tail looked wild, and I would spend the afternoons sketching each raccoon-like rings as they wagged lazily about. 
Rascal, our other cat at the time, was insanely friendly, like an open book, or 60 second mystery. but Lc was something else. I wanted to name her Spots (there were spots on her feet), or Amethyst (because I was obsessed with my birthstone and the color purple[surprise.]). My mother hated both of those names and approached me in the kitchen. She told me she had thought of a good name for the cat and it was LC and it would stand for Lynn's Cat. Now, I knew my mother hated the names I liked, and she really pushed it on me. I agreed because I was given a cat (fucking awesome) and didn't want to throw a fit about something so petty in comparison(I was very aware that my family thought I complained a lot[crabsterlynn]). 
For the next few years I barely saw Lc. 
She always napped with my mother, under the crook of her knees so I couldn't reach, or slept in the office, on the highest shelf of the bookcase so I couldn't reach. I would grab her by whatever available limb I could manage to blindly find, and drag her down. I took her back to my bed and would hold her in that sliver of space between my arm and waist. She was always furious and would radiate heat. But soon I became nicer and, although she wouldn't sit on my lap while I watched tv, she would sleep under the covers with me, in the crook of my arm, at night. By the time I graduated high school she slept in the crook of my arm every night. Now that I sleep in a bigger bed she stretches out next to me. Usually her tail is in my face though. 
Wow, this was uncharacteristically personal.

7.11 slurpie remix

Sometimes I imagine you sitting next to me.
After a while we start to get comfortable with each other, and I imagine my knee touching yours. You show me something in front of you, and my moving in for a better view causes our arms to touch. As I grow tired, I rest my temple on your shoulder.
At first you are rigid, and we are both very aware of each point of contact, but slowly we relax, and it feels strange when I do lift my head up and look at your face.
You know I am looking at you, but you can only focus before you. Your cheek shows me the impression of your tongue running over your molars.
"Are you okay?" Your lips flutter, but you still won't look at me.
I stare at you, waiting for you to turn your face to me, but you still refuse.
You repeat the question, eyes unmoving.
I answer "no", quietly, still looking at you.
Your mouth frowns. I know you are displeased. Now it feels obvious that you aren't looking at me. I know we both know you should be looking at me.
"Hey", you say softly, "What's wrong? We gotta be positive. We gotta, ya know, pep it up." Your hands are a blur at the bottom of my vision. I can see worry growing in your face.
"I can't. It's not enough anymore." I show you my teeth to say Things are cool, bro. No worries. My mind is screaming WHY WON'T YOU LOOK AT ME DAMMIT.
You exhale slowly.
I can see your eyes straining.
Your chin appears weak.
I know I've pushed you too far, and I give up. I go back to whatever I was doing. Your knee has gently settled against mine. Again, our arms occasionally brush. I try to focus my apologies through these connections and I know you receive them, because after 5 minutes things usually calm back down. We start to joke, and I ask if you need something from the kitchen.
You politely refuse, but I know you will grow envious when I return and have to make your own trip.
I go to the kitchen, trying to remember what I had tried to remember from earlier to tell you. The water is always too cold as I hold some in my mouth for my journey back.
but your spot is empty.
and I realize you weren't here.
and these moments didn't happen.

7.11

Many apologies for my absence. I don't know what has come over me. I promise more nonsensical ramblings soon but for now please accept some photos as a post.

 These photos are mine and of my artwork, and they do not belong to you or anyone besides me, Lynn.