can't get you off my ...

She walked into the dark bar that had a comfortable temperature about it. They didn't turn the air on too high which was nice, or their air conditioning unit was breathing it's last gasps hence the non freezing temps after coming in from the the concert frying pans. The dining area wasn't full and the bar was completely empty. she didn't have to worry about what people would think about her sitting alone and she didn't have to pretend that she was busy pretending to be interested in something going on in her phone. she came for a drink and to think. Thinking that will either get her nowhere or no where. Yet there she was, fully knowing that her tormenting her gray matter over some magical concoction would change nothing. perhaps it will help her clarify where she wants to go with all this? these little details , these tiny details. Yes, the details. They make up the whole of larger matters. like the protons and the neutrons of the atom and then the molecule. We are nothing more than senseless carbon, with a limited half life and yet we focus on such details. Why can't we be more ape like and think about just the basic needs? Eat, shit, sleep, fuck, and occasionally swing from tree to tree and pick some parasites out. None of this "why is he like this around me and like when around his friends". She just wanted to know why the difference?

She sat down. the chair spun around with a slight squeak. The wood on the stool was cracked and old, a very vintage look paired with an iron base. it smelled of bleach and old grease from the kitchen, and the old recycled wooden bar appeared to be clean. The bartender walked up and tried to take her order in the most charismatic way possible. she couldn't help but ponder on the truth that she would still be tipping him either way so why the show? is he board? ya probably. or he just wants to flirt. He's young still, at least by city standards, and not old enough to not give a fuck. older bartenders seem to have the " I've been doing this for too long" worn out demeanor under their fake grimaces. This one didn't have that yet, so it would be safe to assume he was flirting, as they all do. Even the gay one's they flirt with her too.

She ordered a dark and stormy. Just enough flavor without being fruity and killing the style of the alcohol. Ginger had an effect of sophistication without being straight up and strong. it was either that or a dirty martin and the olives wouldn't vibe with her planned meditative pondering. The dirty martin was the flirt drink. it has large olives that can be sucked on, crushed gracefully between the front teeth and played with orally while indulging in conversation as to keep the male focused on her lips and tongue. No, it wasn't that kinda day. Ginger, ginger helps clear things. It was a dark and stormy day.

So she sat there; Fedora on her head, small distressed leather clutch on the bar, phone beside it, blonde hair peeking from under her hat and her blue eyes focusing on the abyss of potion she was holding between her hands like a cross at mass. there it was, the truth, reality; why? why should she even ask why? waste the time and energy to replay what happened? Why are men such hard asses around their friends? why is it when they are alone he is the softest and most amazing human being and around the people he has known half his life he treats her a little cooler, more formal, and plays the power hand. No longer are there intonations of passion in the verbal "i love you", just said straight and forward, and so out of character for what he had gotten her use to. Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps it was not out of character. perhaps this was who he was. This cooler version is who he will be once the honeymoon phase is over. she played with her glass and took a big sip. her chest started to tighten up at this thought and her heart was pounding so hard that she could feel her body move slightly with each thud. She took another sip as if it would work immediately. She hung her head low and focused on not crying as her throat tightened and her heart broke. The last thing she wanted was attention and advice from a bartender. The basic assumptions of logic had no ground here. everything about this relationship defied gravity as of right now. sure that's what everyone think of their relationships. it wasn't for the average commoner to bite through and it wasn't for a bachelor bartender striving to be the next hottest thing on screen to give his two cents about. Their history alone would be enough to write 5 Hollywood movies on. enough material to keep writers busy for years. She knew more about the bartender just from looking at the way he moves, the way her sounds, talks and grooms himself then he would ever know in his whole life time about her and how her heart works. It's the way it's always been, it's the way it might always be? at this she couldn't help but think about the phrase "i love you". It's such a dirty trick, she thought. When she says the infamous phrase to her lover she means it. with every time she says it she means it more, it grows, it becomes stronger. like a muscle; the more you work it out the bigger it gets, getting stronger until it can grow no more so one works out to maintain it. To keep it fit. There should be no limit on the phrase since love is unconditional. So why make conditions on it? it's a contradiction to say, " i don't say "i love you" all the time because it loses its meaning". WHAT THE FUCK! Her teeth tightened and her eyes intensified. Did he really say that? Her thoughts almost became a verbal whisper under her breath. This time the bartender felt her energy and in attempt to feel out the situation came up and asked her if she liked her drink. Her drink was lovely but not strong enough for her emotions at the current minute. She lied and said it was perfect.

The men in her life have all done this to her before. it was nothing new so why does it hurt? why is she sensitive now? one said that he cannot say it when he doesn't mean it, the other said it only when he wanted to say it, in other words when he wanted to get laid, many had no idea what they were talking about when they said it, and now the love of her life said he doesn't want it to lose it's meaning by saying it too often? how? HOW can anyone wear out a word? it's not a pair of jeans? it can never lose it's meaning. "hate" will always be hate and no one gives a shit about that word. "stupid" will always have the same meaning if used a billion times.But "love" loses it's meaning?! there aren't numerical meaning limits on words!


love
   [luhv] Show IPA noun, verb, loved, lov·ing.
–noun
1.
a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person.
2.
a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection, as for a parent, child, or friend.
3.
sexual passion or desire.

note: may only be used a max of three times a day Monday through Friday except on weekends where the max increases to 5-10 tens a day depending on drug and alcohol consumption. If the the word is over it's maximum the meaning will lose it's meaning rapidly and change it's definition. Please look at the word "like" for the alternate meaning after reaching maximum guidelines intended for the word "love".

She laughed at the thought. It's simply stupid. All of it is stupid. Let him act how he wants to in front of his friends. Insecurities? are his friends non affectionate in front of him with their lovers? will they think he is insane for falling in love so quickly and that's why he plays this cool hand? he says he doesn't give a fuck about what "they think" and yet the actions are so contrary to his nature. She snapped out of it. Like a light switch was just flipped. she laughed at the childish behavior, the childish words, the immaturity. The high school boy mentality about love that she had to hear from men time and time again. Why did she let it get to her? why the fuck does it matter? She has been through so much shit in her life that she should know by know that men are idiots most of the time when it comes to their inability to digest human affection. it's located in their penis for the most part and if they are thinking with their other head, it's rare to find a type that loves constantly even on the most stressful days of his life. Sure she had all that worked out, she also knew about her own insecurities, the things that scared her in the past, and the things that set off red flags in the present. ok, fair enough she thought as she took the last swigs.

She drank the rest of her dark and stormy and smiled a little flirty smirk at the bartender. He said something witty that made her laugh and winked back at him. She picked up her clutch and stroller her tight jegging ass gracefully out of the 45 minutes of climate controlled cool and into the blazing city streets. It's not over she thought as the heat beat at her face. She will go home and write about it to get it out of her system, let it all reside somewhere else. Let her insecurities reside next to her misunderstandings and her inabilities to understand her actions and emotions on the internet. there for all to read and absorb. Her pettiness made her laugh as well. suddenly the small electrons weren't in the picture, neither were the atoms or the molecules. no, not even the the DNA or entire involuntary muscle groups. All she could think about was his face, his voice, his smell and the way that he held her when they were alone. the thoughts he thinks of her daily, the constant emails filled with love and promise, the purchased plane tickets, the continual planning he does to be with her, the day dreams of their wedding day and the boy names he had been thinking of for his son one day. Ya suddenly she felt foolish and small. Like those spoiled rich cunts that expect their men to lick between their dirty toes on TV. it was a disgusting feeling. A fake feeling and she was anything but that. Raw and unfiltered with genuine blood on her sleeve to a fault was where her character thrived. Not by choice but by molecular structure and genetic disposition. Culture had something to do with it as well, but even then she had a hard time being anything other than who she was since birth. She couldn't get him off her mind. Through it all it was all about getting to know one another and understanding the way the other ticks. Sure she wasted a lot of time on nothing but it was for something. it was for the bigger picture, the details that build it up and make it beautiful.

She finally got home exhausted from the heat and dehydrated from the drink to her small methodically planned out small space of an apartment and sat down in front of her computer. He was asleep somewhere in a different country and she would think of him as she writes her pain and days frustration down pixel by pixel. After all it's not worth fighting over, it's not worth causing problems about, there is nothing wrong so why break it. She was at peace and she was getting very tired. As she started thinking of the best fitting words to describe her roller coaster of shit, she felt sleep take over. As stupid as she has made her day out to be, after everything, and all she thought, she could only think of him and how badly she wanted to sleep. She left her unfinished entry hanging in space and time and crawled into her cool bed. She felt her primate instincts take over.