two handed mittens
“ I don’t buy it Aniki, you love love fr!!”
January or February 2023, a person in my chat named Zhara said that in response to my most recent tirade about staying single for the rest of my life and never giving anyone such a chance again.
I knew even then that she was correct, but I was doing my best to convince myself that I could still be that cold, nearly heartless implement that I had been for years and years.
Edgy as it may sound, I used to be a cold, cold person. There were long periods of time where I simply didn’t have a conscience and could do anything without sparing a second thought.
Recently though, and I think everyone could tell before I could, something changed within me. I had become like the way I was when I was a kid before all the bad things happened.
Beyond sensitive, utter crybaby, hopelessly fragile, made of gossamer.
I’d been trying to figure out for a while what incited this change, and then I realized at some point that it was my last relationship. This pissed me off for a while, but then I remembered a phrase one of my mutuals coined. “To be loved is to be changed”
It’s 5am, I’m slightly hungover. I was supposed to go to a party last night, I pre gamed, got dressed up in my sexy nurse costume, got hyped up, and then promptly cowered back into my bed room, refusing to go to the party.
I am afraid! I don’t know when I became like this. I don’t recall the last time I left the house by myself for any reason other than work or to buy some necessities from the drug store.
Such major changes happen to me, to my personality, and I don’t realize it until its far too late!
It’s all just as well. It’s a good thing that I stayed home. My neighbor who I was going to the party with ended up locked out of her apartment. There we were, outside, in the rain, 3am.
She’s dressed as a pink haired vampire with a long fur coat. She gives me a boost, I slide in through her window and open the door for her from the inside. I return to my apartment and bring her some of the pizza I ordered earlier, I fell asleep before it arrived.
We ate some, we laughed, she looked preposterously good in her dress, there was a stirring within me.
Later, back in my office, as I scrolled mindlessly through tiktok, I came across a slide show of sweet little musings about love. Apparently the person who invented goldfish crackers made them in the shape of a fish because his wife was a pisces. The last line on the picture was something like “love is contained in a goldfish cracker” in another one, it was the picture heading today’s entry. “My mom knitted a two handed mitten so her and my dad could hold hands on their walks still”.
How sweet.
Suddenly I felt tears welling up.
Zhara was right, I do love love.
And so I wept. I have condemned myself from it. Yet still, love finds it’s way to me.
