it's all about the soundtrack

by lizard at 03:54 PM on September 20, 2003

on different days, you'll hear different versions. the change takes place at a fundamental level; the things she'll say on a thursday or a friday are all completely accurate, and the entirely contradictory things she'll tell you come sunday or maybe monday sometime, also completely true. her weekends have been defined by disconnection for most of her new life, the beginning of which was defined by the stirrings of these feelings for this man, and this man unplugs himself from the grid on the weekends and returns with luscious words and images from his adventures with ... with the woman he's going to spend the rest of his life with. it wasn't this way in the beginning, but things changed. the fact this continues in spite of that is what it is, whatever that may or may not be.

friday evening finds her high in a vivid afterimage of a week's worth of intense tension building releasing rebuilding exploding subsiding into tingling and again and again and again. four days flirting with dangerous openness, taking dares and chances and learning to love the rewarding pavlovian process while slipping and mentioning love, right here in this very sentence, in the most freudian manner imaginable. please ignore that grim foreshadowing for the moment, take this moment and just look at her, watch the way she moves, know she contains energy that extends into the spaces before and after her; this would be the music inside her. point of reference, it probably sounds something like this:
let it burn

the weekend's disconnection depletes her, she has no defense against this, it happens at the same pace whether she struggles or surrenders. by the time sunday is becoming monday, you will most likely find her curled up in a small ball, that is if you see her at all. the music that accomanies this is frail and plaintive and expresses the underlying reality of this whole mess, the foundation of truth beneath the stories of mental/physical connection she tells you (and herself) that she has accepted: the inescapable fact that deep down, she loves him with her soul. and when he vanishes into his real life for these two, three days, it gives her a good look at what will eventually become of what they share, not their lives, just moments stolen from them. when the stress of this gets too much, it will be given up like a bad habit; therefore the weekends are, in microcosm, the rest of her life, as it will be lived, without him.
to each his own

(requires windows media player. broadband recommended. i have a small obsession with streaming media. bandwidth doesn't just use itself.)