Droopy Balloons

That stupid Sarah McLachlan song is swirling around in my head…’I’ve messed up better, I should know. So don’t come around here telling me ‘Told you so’.. It’s not so much that I don’t like Sarah, it’s just the way her music makes me feel some days. I picture myself sitting on a park bench holding a raggedy balloon and a box of half eaten chocolates when I start to hear her croon. After I sit there all day wilting, I’ll go home and watch a movie on the Women’s Channel about how women get rapped and beaten by their husbands. Is that really what the Women’s Channel should be showing? How motivating! I get to see 1 hour and 45 minutes of some woman getting pummeled by some man, and then in the last 15 minutes she’ll leave him. How rewarding. I feel better about being a woman all the time. It’s reason to celebrate!

Despite that, I messed up. I’m 100% wrong in every which direction, and it sucks. I hurt someone in the process and no matter how many times I apologize; it won’t make a difference to their heart. I might as well have jumped all up and down on it with stilettos. Why is it that when you try to do something noble, you end up fucking up yourself and those you care about?

I hate that rule which dictates we will always hurt those we care most about. I want to give back that rule and hurt random people. Wait, that’s not right either. There’s no winning.

So I guess I’ll sit here and wait. Wait for him to forgive me, wait for his heart to heal a little, and wait to be his friend. I know I look pathetic sitting here with those damn balloons, but it’s where I am.