the moment in which i realized that i am actually an awful girlfriend: also, a poem

3 Apr

listening to the album “the lone bellow” by the lone bellow

today was a big day at work. finally, after many months of anxiously waiting for the status of my top secret paperwork to change to… anything really… i had my interview! i was nervous! i wiped down my desk with eco-friendly wipes and made sure my little framed picture of christopher and i was displayed. i didn’t want my agent to think anything in my office gave off the appearance of someone who would betray the secrets of our country! 

anyway. everything went fine. she interviewed one of my soldiers, my psg, lovely roomie devin, and then it was my turn. everything went well. and then she asked if there was anyone else that knew me well to ask about my life, and i said:

“oh! my boyfriend, christopher!!”
“aw that’s sweet, where is he now?”
“west point, i think his info is later in the questionnaire”
“could i get his phone number?”

..

“um, so i don’t know his phone number”
“really?”

instantly my mind entered a catastrophizing pattern where i’m stranded on an island one day and i must call him, but i have no iphone contact list! it is something i should have committed to memory, and now it is the only thing i think my agent can hold against me. if can’t remember my sweetheart’s number, what will i do with all of the secrets of america?

 

either way, i know a very talented word artist and i’ve decided to post his works from time to time. here is a poem he wrote and sent to me not too long ago:

Is there anything more terrifying than a claustrophobic psyche?
I fear that I am changing, forever, and that frightens me.

Do I want to be who I was? 
Who I am?
Or who I will be?
Or do I not want to be at all?

Dreams fade to reality as the present becomes the past.
I want to be rich, but I think that’s just for the ease of the social class.
I truly want peace, to say peace be with you and really mean it, comfortably kneeling on a church pew where I can rest my soul from all the demons.

How can someone understand me if I don’t understand myself?

I think I’m on the precipice of finding my soul’s mission,
Life is an adventure; I think I’m just wading through the waters of transition.

-Lucius

xoxo,
annie

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2 Responses to “the moment in which i realized that i am actually an awful girlfriend: also, a poem”

  1. Kelley April 3, 2013 at 8:19 pm #

    Cell phones have forever crippled my ability to remember numbers. I ALMOST sort-of-kind-of-not-really-sometimes-I-do-sometimes-I-don’t have Alex’s number memorized, and we’ve been texting for like a year and a half. It’s rather shameful. But you’re not alone!

  2. elockwood April 5, 2013 at 4:58 pm #

    hey lady, a) i only know my mom and my sister’s phones. so no worries there :)
    b) tell your friend that that poem was excellent. like, really. i loved it.

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