Divorced from desire chronicles
——
I’ll always remember how an ex looked at me, the yearning regarding how hot I looked. Saying I shouldnt look that fine while they were horny. Eyes peering down my body.
I remember just standing, staring blankly...
Ellipsis personified.
Was it just a statement? Maybe slight compliment? Do I smile? Was it funny? Should I laugh? I didnt know.
The awkward silence was so loud. Feeling like I was suddenly on set and forgot my lines.
This obvious thing I was supposed to say or do or feel . Unspoken anticipation turning the scene into a waiting room, but I didnt know what they were waiting for.
I didnt know what role I was supposed to be playing. If I knew, if I had time to study, embody the person who FEELS. DESIRES.
Fulfilling the fantasy I was cast in shouldn’t be this hard, right? Someone else could do it, play the part perfectly without even having a script, it just comes that naturally to them.
Meanwhile, I now sit with these vacant film slides, looking back.
Empty.
