Complexity is the Majestic - Book 2

Objects May Appear Larger

I'm dangerously connective.

The club as I know it has imploded. Its done. A new cop in town has deiced to target it, busting it and effectively sending everyone i've gotten to known over the past year into the wind- Vera included. Even Joe is gone. Its like a whole set of memories- torched. Can I carry on?

Vera was my constant- my drug of choice. She's no longer at the place I used to know, nor is anyone I really know.

Vera informs me that i'll be fine as there's always a second favorite roller coaster (second favorite girl for every guy) at the theme park. A statement that both confirms and denies me on what I want to hear.

Confirms the notion that we are nothing, passer by's, a good time on a coaster that was fun but really for everyone.

Denies that whatever the coaster made me feel was likely just in my head and not shared with the coaster itself.

I'm thrilled and ready to put a bullet in my head. I'm sad and elated. I'm complete and broken. I am the unrequited obviousness that I knew I was and regretfully declined to accept.

My truth is standing before me. I'm dangerously connective. Am I clingy? I look it up... yep thats me... well sometimes at least. I've learned to relish in an insecure behavior and my wife is to blame, I knew it. The lack of connection from my wife has caused a tear in my state of being so much that I'm an attention whore- or wait have I always been that way?

Where else am I clingy I wonder? In work? Nope. In family? Not really. In love- yes, thats the one and only battleground I'm super clingy in- is that because I seek a receptor, a recognizer, an attractor, I want someone to want me, really want me. Vera wanted me as per consequence of the transaction, I misread that as wanting me for who I am, what I am. She wanted me as what I represented. Cash was the signifier of that. Is that what i'm trying convince myself devoid of knowing her true intent?

She'd be content with me falling off, to the way side, not connected, not the norm. Do I think thats true?

Has she ever connected when she's been happy, been fulfilled, does she want you in her life beyond the club? The answer is no, well actually yes. This is the conflict in my mind. I want to say no but in reality she has been more to me and I her. I'll admit i'm clingy to false gods and you've tee'd her up as one, and even she refuses to take your golden ticket. What a slam that is- here, abuse me, and she refuses. She didn't want you in the norm or in the after, only in the transaction or when it suited her best.

But you didn't meet her in the norm, is there no norm?

I'm a clingy lapdog and she wants nothing more to do with me. I destroy myself easily.

Pour yourself a cocktail, erase time, and yourself, get back to being ordinary.

A pattern presents itself- you can't be trusted.

Sunday.

I find myself in between lately. I'm obvious and not. Sorted, yet special.

"The rain felt so good on me...." Vera tells me at 2AM on Sunday morning. She went to work in Cleveland, back on the stage, back in her element, a place to belong, stripper status intact. Making it rain implies that some one made it rain on her, showering her with dollar bills as she danced, darted her ass, bent her legs, exposing her raw sexual beauty for all to enjoy, lust after.

She's confident, happy, accepted. Her responses are lengthy, detailed, expressive. This is as a good as an orgasm I figure. For me at least.

Conversation runs dry the minute I ask about any folks like me up there. The door to regular confessional- my confessional status, comes to a close.

"You're being really unattractive right now..." Chelsea, of the GirlFriend Experience would say.

Vera's communication comes to a halt. You're not here for introspection Parker, you're merely here for reception. Recognition of the facts not the vice versa. I forget my place.

Back to the empty.