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7 & 1/2 Acres |
2003-07-13 - 7:12 p.m. Boy, I was hot earlier. I mean, fired up. The day has gone on and I've settled. Drove out to Birkehead Mountain Wilderness area and walked a bit. Drove to Pisgah covered bridge, just to see it from the road and keep on driving. I composed a letter to Frances' folks driving--one which I think I will write though from this more settled state rather than fresh from bull fighting with Mary. I feel like I was fierce but I think I stand with my actions. I did tear her a new asshole. Perhaps it's convenient that she called. A place I felt alright directing some pent up anger. I'd like to say it was all warranted but truthfully, nobody really deserves to hear what all I said to her. I'm not apologizing because I'm not regretful. I'm saying that was a bit much and she didn't deserve all that. I'm also saying she can live with it. I reckon she's dumped enough shit on me time and time again that I'm okay knowing I just shit all over her. I do want to recognize what it is I've done. I don't like shitting on folks--if I like them or not. This one was necessary. It looks like it is going to rain again and this makes me happy. The windows I made aren't finished--I've yet to make the latches and they are tied closed with string. They're rattling gently against their frames. All day I've seen goldfinches flirting about behind the house, going from thistle to up in the cedars. The butterflies have been plentiful around the cone flower, bee balm and butterfly bush. Everything is pink. The thistle too. I like it overgrown back here and think we'll no longer cut the field--just let it grow and let the milkweed sprout. There is sumac too which has already started to grow in groves. There ain't a filled birdfeeder in the yard but the types are plentiful. I live here. Molly goes for walks. I was trying to explain all this to Phunt--he wanting to understand and really, I can't. It's not in my ability nor is it really even my desire. I know now that friends are important to me and I was able to tell him that. But as for my ability to explain that I am happy, that I'm with Molly and very, very happy, this seemed ungraspable to him. This ain't it but I sure am glad I'm queer. This life that I'm choosing, it is of my forming, and for me, in this, it works. It fits. It follows my timeline and my pace. It makes me happy. Being married, being heterosexual does not. It's a false mold to which I don't fit. Words have not been within my ability nor enough to say how I am and feel. I love, love, love to be called Louise. I love, love, love the one who says this name. Jefferson too.
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