Day Burns Down To Night, Burns The Edge Of My Soul

We got an assistant manager at work this week. His name is Adolfo, and he’s from Mexico City. That being said, he is a tall, lean, very attractive man, who is also married. And here is the thing, I can mentally acknowledge that a man is good looking, and have it be a one-time, fleeting thought, free of the stereotypical drooling and panting that people often associate with the archetypical young female. However, every other girl at work (I hesitate to call them women, seeing as they don’t behave like women) is shamelessly flirting, wearing fancy makeup and push-up bras to work, fake-giggling at his "charms", attempting to be the kind of sexy that actually makes them look pathetic. Honestly, I don’t know how men can be attracted to women who behave like dogs in heat. It’s one thing to be attracted to a sexy woman who is seductive and charming, but to be attracted to a girly-girl who thinks emulating a Baywatch character is true sex-appeal is kind-of sad. I feel badly for men with those standards. I must admit, I did take him at the face-value of his being a skirt-chaser, which automatically made him unattractive to me. But even if I had found him attractive, his being married would have been a giant hint to back off.
I am not one of those girls. I am a woman (albeit a young woman). I hardly paid him any attention whatsoever. I hardly spoke to him out of a work context, I didn’t hover around him, or flit around him obsessively like a bug. Then randomly, today, he wanders into the prep kitchen and tells me that he hasn’t been happy in the last 7 years, despite all of the cheating he’s done on his wife. It seems, that as a good looking man with an accent, he’s been able to get any woman he wants for a long time. I asked him if he found that attractive in a woman (the complete inability to say no) and he said it used to be, but that last night was the first time in 7 years that he was truly happy with his wife, and that for the first time in that long, he couldn’t wait to go home and see her again. He said that he’d had that moment when he saw her and remembered falling in love with her. "How easily we forget." Were his words. I took this with a grain of salt, because he’d gotten a reaction from every woman at work but me, and may just have been using a different approach, seeing as all I’ve seen of him is a total horndog. It was strange, but felt sincere. That doesn’t make me attracted, and it won’t, but it does redeem some of my respect for him as a person.
It’s funny, I told him I didn’t understand women who had random sex with guys who weren’t even going to remember them later. He told me he wish more women felt that way. (Again, taking all of this with a grain of salt). But it got me thinking that this happens to me a lot. Guys tend to discover that being horny meat-heads doesn’t do anything for me, no matter how physically attractive they are, or superficially charming they can be, and then I have this completely frank, honest moment with them, and for some reason, their ability to be attracted to me is gone, as if it isn’t possible to trust or love a woman who knows any of your secrets. I try my best to live without secrets. Secrets are omissions, secrets are inevitably designed to be discovered and can only cause you harm. They can only serve to cause you damage in the future. You are the sum of the experiences of your life. Why try so hard to hide?
And somehow this one experience (even though it isn’t really even directly related to any relevant situation in my life) got me wondering: What is it about me that is so intimidating? Why are the men I’m attracted to never attracted to me? Why are men, good, substantial, wonderful men, afraid of me? I have a long history of not being able to attract a man that I like, or a man that I’m told is the kind I "deserve", and only the ones who really don’t deserve me.
Trust Me
Are these armies of cold and broken souls?
Don’t you recognize these bleeding holes?
In my heart
A life riddled with spaces of time
That just aren’t there
No, it’s not fair that you know what they were
When even I don’t
An old armchair where
Grandpa watched TV
now in a room so cold
and he’s gone from his reality
Straining, yeah straining to remember his smile
When I’m sleeping, when I’m dreaming
I’m just a granddaughter for awhile
Is this bare enough for you?
Have I made myself vulnerable enough?
Have I wrestled out the truth
that you’ve required?
Will you trust me now?
The scar along my thigh
came when I got burned by some guy
I wept last night for my sister who was kidnapped
when she was barely two
Do you want to know how old I was
whan I learned the hard way
that trust is earned?
Is this bare enough for you?
Have I made myself vulnerable enough?
HaveI laid out all the facts
that you’ve been looking to?
Have I earned your trust?
I’ve been a bird with a broken wing like you
I’ve been walking wounded too
Isn’t it time to heal these broken bones
and find a heart to call your home?
Is this bare enough for you?
Have I been raw and real enough?
Have I given all of the answers
that you had questions for?
Will you trust me?
Will you just trust me now?
Kassondra Staschuk © 2008


~ by Kд§$ị (ИovΔ) on 06/14/2008.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: