Here's the weekend, and I'm already seeing Monday. Once the kids show up Saturday, it's a routine slide into work, Julie and dread. My first thought of Julie this morning was of how beautiful she is, and it seemed a strange thought, detached from my feelings for her. She'd become an object. But hadn't she always been that? Hadn't she always been a representation of something other than herself, of something I wanted? Now she seemed even less, just something to enjoy looking at. Is that what I want? Though that detachment has lingered through the morning, its dominance has faded as the dread reminds me of my embarrassment over her power over me and the pride it has cost me.
Julie had never been a sexual being to me. Not only did it seem cart-before-horse, but it would have pulled her down from the pedestal. The plaque on the pedestal: What did it read? Is she still on it? I still do not think of her sexually, but I think less of her in other ways--ways for which I can't fault her but which I can finally move to the category of Irreconcilable Differences--essentially, in the departments of sophistication and depth of intellect. From the foot of the pedestal I would gaze upward past these "faults." Now they are flashing neon that makes her character look garish. Yet still so beautiful.
Friday, January 30, 2009
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Just stopping by to thank you for your comments on my blog. They were very appreciated and I took them to heart!
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