Date- August 26, 2003
Subject- A Drunken Love Poem to Pieter From Claudia
Date- August 26, 2003
Subject- Claudia mourns the loss of Sarah
At the moment Claudia is more disturbed by the fact that she can't describe her feelings about losing Sarah than she is about actually losing Sarah. So what if her friends think she's bisexual. That's not the point. The point is that she loved someone deeply and yet was never able to be intimate with that person, or anyone after, for that matter.
But still she tries, again and again, drunk and sober, to describe the horrible loss of her first real girlfriend. She is, at present, quite drunk. Pieter is what she distastefully refers to as 'tragically sober'.
"Ok, so it's not sexual. We've established that. She had full, pouty lips that you wanted to suck on and nibble on, but it wasn't sexual." He says, but the grin doesn't slide off his dreadfully handsome face. He lounges on her bed, sprawled out like a cat in a sunny window.
"Mow." Says Bitchface, flicking her tail impatiently. She wants love.
"She was beautiful to me, but I didn't want to fuck her. Unless it was in a mental kind of way, in which case I did want to." Claudia says as if that settles the matter. She gazes at him with bleary eyes from her cozy nest of pillows and blankets on the floor.
"So you wanted to fuck her, but not in a sexual way." Pieter says, matter of factly.
Claudia groans. A pillow finds it's way to her face and smothers her protests.
"Mow." Says Bitchface.
Claudia drops the pillow just before it takes her life.
"Look," She growls in her I'm-losing-my-patience voice, "I've never been able to really love a friend the way my heart wants me too. I've always been kind of closed off, no matter how drawn I am to a person. So when I meet someone who makes me want to really come out of my shell it's quite significant."
She sits back and eyes him as if that's all she should have to say on the matter and he raises an eyebrow in an 'are-you-bonkers?' kind of way.
"And it's stupid really, because I wanted her for all the wrong reasons. I wanted her because she was what I wanted to be, because she could love me and then let me go while I was still pining away. She could snatch my first love out from under my nose and I could forgive her in a heartbeat. She could grab everyones attention and I could stand in her shadow without the slightest complaint. She could shine like the stars while I spluttered died and I could forgive her for it. She just owned a part of me..."
Pieter purses his lips, choking back so many delightfully clever and inappropriate comments.
"I mean... I feel like everyone I've met since her has been just a lousy replacement for the first girl I ever really wanted." She says in a soft voice.
Pieter smirks, and Claudia pointedly ignores him.
"And it's not like with boyfriends. I can love them because they love me back in the same exact way. It's almost as if we're obligated to one another. It's different, though, with a friend. When you fall in love with someone you don't really have much of a choice in the matter, but you choose your friends. I chose her, and I sat back, hoping she'd choose me too..."
Pieter seems to shrink a little.
Why isn't he drunk? Where is that drink I made for him? Claudia wonders. Oh yeah, I drank it...
"It's such a risk, loving someone you've chosen to be your friend, but it can be so wonderfully right sometimes. A good friend will stick by you because they truly enjoy your company, not because they're depending on you to return what is most often, in relationships, seriously misplaced affection. They stick by you because you are the sister, or brother, that they always wanted. Because you are someone they can look up to or lean on no matter what madness is going on in the world or in their lives. They love you unconditionally."
"You're wasted." Pieter states.
"And you're as deep as a puddle. A muddy, stinking puddle with little gray pebbles in it. Muddy and cold and stinky is what you are." Claudia blubbers, gloriously proving his point. She sinks into her blanket nest, gurgling and burping in a most unattractive way.
Pieter gets it now, of course, but he doesn't want to express how sad it makes him feel. He doesn't like this drunken Claudia who drags up the past and all the crazy emotions connected with it. He misses the drunken Claudia of an hour ago who wrote silly poetry and wore his socks on her hands. The Pungent Puppet Show of Doom, she called it...
"Slobbering drunk." He murmurs.
"Mrow!" Says Bitchface.
"Mrgh..." Claudia mumbles.