Comfort food

I am tired of being the human equivalent of comfort food for the men in my life.

I’m the girl they turn to when they’re alone, when they want someone to make them feel warm and fuzzy and loved -- with no strings attached. They know I won’t demand anything of them because, well, because I’m stupid. I’m so happy to have their attention, have their focus, even if it’s just for a few hours, that I toss everything aside just to be there for them.

The late night visits which, in someone else’s life, should turn into a booty call turns into watching “Thomas Crown Affair” and searching Craigslist for someone for ME to hook up with since apparently nothing’s gonna happen with Dude Boy.

The last call of the day from Dark Boy, who wants/needs/desires to have someone be just that, with long, wine-filled conversations and poetry, who thinks I’m amazing as long as I’m doing things to help him out. But when push comes to shove, I’m not the “spice” he’s looking for. But I’m comfy enough to spend time with… as long as someone else isn’t there.

I’m the one they turn to when they just need a warm fix. They don’t want sex. They want soup. I’m chicken soup. I’m warm cookies. I’m reliable and dependable and maybe I smell good.

But comfort food is temporary. Once you’ve been comforted, the empty soup bowl goes into the sink and then back into the cupboard, to wait for the next rainy day, the next cold, lonely night, to be brought out when there’s nothing else to eat.

But I’m done with that.

I will no longer comfort you, unless you’ve lost a limb.

I will no longer answer your last-call-of-the-night calls.

I will no longer be your comfort food. If you need comfort, find someone else. I’m done with warm and fuzzy and good-smelling. Well, maybe not done with good-smelling.

I am moving on to being dessert.

I am that gorgeous, delicious, indulgent cake you see sitting in the dessert case, beautifully lit, just waiting for you. But you can’t reach into that case unless someone lets you in. I am the dessert to be coveted, to be oogled, to be desired and wanted, only to be denied unless I decide to let you open the cupboard.

You have to earn me. You don’t just get to have me. You’ve got to plan and sacrifice and leave room for me.

You are going to miss me, I guarantee that. But I’m out of comfort for you. It’s time for some comfort for me.

Oh, but I thought… cuz you… oh…

Oh, I thought that we were…

Because there was poetry once…

And the four hours we always talk…

And the food on the spoon…

And soup…

And you reached out…

And I reached back…

So I thought…

And we acted like…

And you treated me like…

And there seemed to be an us growing…

But I guess…

But I thought…

But apparently you didn’t…

And then you said…

And then my heart broke.

Single word

A single word tonight, from either of us, could have changed everything.

But I think we’re both just so afraid of that single word that we just don’t know how/when/if to utter it.

Just a single, simple word.

Stay.

I wanted to hear that word, even though everything else was screaming it. I wanted to hear it from your lips, to see it in your eyes.

Stay.

Just that simple word.

You, over there, sleepy, beautiful, and, for a very brief second, vulnerable in a way I have never seen you be.

Me, over here, tentatively placing my hand on your leg, you not pulling away. My hand resting there, your eyes closed. The closest we’ve been. The closest we’ve let ourselves be.

I just wanted to hear that one word.

Stay.

And I guess you were saying it by just letting me be there, letting me connect, letting me in for just a single moment.

And I didn’t hear it. Until it was too late. Until I broke the silence and brought us back to where we were.

I heard that simple word just as I opened my mouth and took it all away. Screamed in my head to just shut up so I could hear that word that was hanging out there, unspoken but said.

And I wanted to just take it back, to go back to just being there with you, the simplicity of my hand on your calf, your eyes closed, the quiet of the room. That moment of time, just suspended, just hanging there.

But it was gone.

And I still hoped you would say that simple word. Even as I walked away, I wanted to hear it. I wanted my phone to ring and to hear you say, come back, stay.

But I guess we’re not there yet. And I guess we’re both afraid to say that simple word.

Stay?

Stay.

Because it is not so simple. It would change everything. It would mean everything.

And maybe we’re just not ready for that.

Not yet, anyway.

Blatant self-promotion post

Huge news! "Mastermind" has been selected to compete for a $250 grant through Patron of the Arts to help with festival submissions. The whole thing is driven by Facebook so if you have a Facebook account, help us out!

Please "like" Patron of the Arts page:

http://www.facebook.com/patronofthearts

And then go to the Mastermind link and "like" Mastermind (near the comment box on the bottom).

http://www.facebook.com/patronofthearts#!/photo.php?fbid=486399397874&set=a.486398867874.260373.106420007874

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For those of you who haven't been following this blog very long, I am a filmmaker and "Mastermind" is a pet project of mine, which I shot last year. Last summer, it made its world premiere at Comic-Con, which was amazing! But I don't want to stop there. However, financially, it's expensive sending films out to festivals so this grant could cover submission fees, publicity, etc. So if you can help out, that would be awesome!