Fairy Tale Lessons

I wrote this poem years ago and have edited it recently. Reading my cousin's blog today inspired me to post it.

Fairy Tale Lessons

there's only one woman who can be the fairest of them all. silly queen; she was already old.

fairy godmothers sometimes forget to tell you to leave something behind for the fella. so when in doubt, leave something that could only fit you. like a shoe.

if you never leave your tower, the love of your life will still find you.

dragons are easy to kill.

if you're kinda chubby you can be a fairy.

mothers are not necessary. in fact, it's best if they die at child-birth.

careers are also not necessary. in fact, it's best not to mention them.

when you're passive and unconscious you look really attractive.

hairy, violent, large men should be tolerated and appreciated. listen to your furniture.

homosexuality does not exist.

the less you talk, the more action you get.

love happens only once and it is instantaneous.

the circle of life means females have babies. it's painful, but hey, hakuna matata.

to be a princess you must be shorter than the prince.

old people don't fall in love.

"do you trust me" is always a trick question.

conclusion:

poor humble gorgeous girls get rich handsome princes to rescue them.

the reason they're so skinny is so the prince can carry them and look strong.

if you're one of those girls, don't try having girlfriends. they get jealous. and jealous women are vicious.

Luck

He was cute. I was tipsy. It was noisy. We started making out. It became a thing. We'd meet at parties and make out. Then we'd meet between classes and make out. I was young. I was sure it was just a matter of time before he introduced me to his friends as his girlfriend. I started drawing hearts in my notebooks. I started writing his last name after my first name, secretly, in my diary. I started staring out into space and smiling. I thought I was in love.

And then one day I baked him cookies and went to deliver them to him where he worked. He would undoubtedly fall in love with me after eating my cookies. He would say You're the best baby, let's go out to dinner tonight.

He was on a break, they told me, Outside somewhere. I went outside looking for him. But there was a strange feeling in my gut.

It's funny how we get a feeling before something happens- like we know we're about to see something that's going to scar us for life. Maybe that feeling comes from our heart and it's meant to protect us. Why don't we ever listen to it? I don't know.

There he was, with a busty blonde he worked with, their hips glued together, kissing as though they were long lost lovers. Every cliche I'd ever read suddenly made sense. My heart broke. My brain stopped. The ground beneath my feet disappeared. All of that.

He saw me and smiled, as though he were just playing chess with this girl and I had nothing to worry about. He called me over and introduced us, as if I were his friend and nothing more. Her name was Heather.

It's equally funny how we react in the most painful and traumatizing moments of our lives. I shook her hand. I froze my face into a smile. I knew if I stopped smiling the tears would gush down. I smiled as hard as I have ever smiled in my life. I said See ya later.

I walked away with my box of cookies. I walked until I was alone. I ate all the cookies I had baked for him to fall in love with me. Was I hungry? No, not at all. I was trying to get rid of the bitter taste in my mouth. I was chewing as hard as I could, because I couldn't smile anymore and I wasn't ready to cry yet.

I went home, crawled under my covers, and stayed in bed for two days. I didn't cry- I never cried- but I lay there, paralyzed.

I decided to confront him. I found him and asked him why he did that to me. He seemed calm. He said You didn't think we were exclusive did you? The words went from his mouth and straight into whatever it is in us that registers the great pains of our lives- the ones that even ten years later hurt us still. I said nothing. I walked away as fast as I could because I thought that maybe I could leave that moment there, maybe it wouldn't stay with me, maybe if I walked really really fast that pain wouldn't be able to follow me.

But it was too late. It had already happened. I would never trust a man so purely and innocently again. I decided right then and there that I had no luck whatsoever when it came to love.

The pain never left me, although the bitterness subsided. He even became a friend after a while. Several years later, in a drunken night, he apologized for treating me the way he did. It surprised me. I didn't know he knew he had hurt me. But he knew. I said Nonsense, we were kids, someone had to teach me that fairy tales aren't real. I laughed. But he didn't laugh with me. He said, Please, don't dismiss it, I know I hurt you, let yourself get upset. At that, I started to cry. The tears I had never let go of were still there, waiting right behind my cheeks, and they suddenly burst out of my eyes in relief. Hours went by, I thanked him for apologizing and for letting me cry on his shoulder about the wound he had caused himself. He thanked me for not hating him.

And then we lost touch completely. As though that was all we were meant to live through together. Our paths had crossed for just those reasons, so that we could each learn certain lessons, and then we each went our own way.

I never forgot him. Even as I write about him now, my heart feels both the pain he once caused me and the relief he later gave me. He lives there in the depths of my heart, and with him also lives the girl I used to be- the one who believed in Happily Ever After. And I like to see her every once in a while. She softens the guarded cynical woman I have a tendency to turn into.

She reminds me that I am capable of loving.

Lucky me.

Divine

I'm not a fan of diary-entry posts, but the past 24 hours have been so delicious, I want to write of nothing else.

It started last night, when I couldn't sleep. I didn't fall asleep until 7am this morning, in fact. For those of you who know me- that doesn't happen all that often. For many, insomnia is torture, and I understand that, but every once in a while, I think it's a gift. I think there are places our brains and hearts go to at night that they won't go in daylight, and every once in a while, it's vital that we visit those areas. As soon as I realized my mind wanted a night to itself, I didn't resist it- I gave it the whole night. I tossed and turned when my mind went over everything it's angry about, I cried when my sadness surfaced, I smiled when my fantasies played out in my head like movies, I hugged my pillow and hid under the sheets when my fears took over, I chased a mosquito around when I was too agitated to lie down, and I sat up in bed and stared at the shadows in the dark when my mind was empty.
I fell asleep around 7 and woke up at noon, feeling completely refreshed. After my mind had spent the whole night thinking everything it wanted to think about, it was free of its clutter and noise. It was quiet, and my heart was peacefully open.
I danced downstairs to the kitchen and started cooking- one of my absolute favorite things to do. I don't know why chopping vegetables fills me with such joy, but it does. I made soup for my family and went out to meet my friend Marina.
A word about Marina: She and I have been friends since we were four. Marina knows I love to tell people about how she is my oldest friend, about how we've known each other for 20 years. She is a friend I hold dearly in my heart and soul, and, being a fellow artist, she was the perfect person to spend this day with.
We went to MASP, a small museum in Sao Paulo. I love small museums more than anything. The beautiful MASP had three exquisite exhibits. One was of photographs by Walker Evans- which I found to be completely delicate and sensitive in their portrayal of America in the 1930's. Another was of Greek Mythological art- which I'm obsessed with so, needless to say, I loved it. And the last was of the history of 'the Portrait', which was fascinating in showing how the portrayal of a face has evolved from being photo-perfect to being a complete dismantling of realism.
How rare to go to a museum and love everything you see- I felt truly privileged.
Then we went to FNAC, a huge book and media store. I love huge crowded bookstores about as much as I love small empty museums. I'm strange like that. We sat at the cafe, I had two cappuccinos, then we wandered around, I bought two books and felt like I'd won a trophy. Books have that effect on me.
My day ended with a glass of red wine while watching a movie with my dad. Perfection never tasted so good.
As you can see, the past 24 hours have been a real gift- the first half dedicated to clearing my mind, and the second half to filling it with things I love. My brain is yet again filled with excitement about life, my soul is soaring, and I am smiling, which is, forgive me for boasting, absolutely divine.