I’ve missed you.
January 5, 2011 § 2 Comments
I can only imagine that most women don’t come to appreciate this life long friend until it is too late to say a proper good bye and certainly not while there’s still time to restore the relationship while it’s still alive and kicking with some well deserved and proper respect.
For better or worse, I have been fortunate enough to learn this life lesson early and would like to share with all of you some of my most personal, deepest insights into what it’s like to have missed her so much…
When I was at the ripe old age of 10, I waited for her every day.
I had an older friend who had already made her acquaintance earlier that year and this only fueled my curiosity to meet her. I dreamt of our secret relationship, our monthly meetings, the meaning behind it all… I wanted so much to be accepted into that world, that looking back on it feels slightly bazaar at the very least. The mind of a child really is pure weirdness, isn’t it.
But alas, no matter how much I waited and wanted, she never came.
Eventually I got caught up in the rest of life and made peace with her absence. Until some idle tuesday that is, a few years later, when she finally arrived.
By then I was a little over the whole thing and the audacity of her late, and what’s worse, trivial hello, only made me mad she’d come at all. And this is how we started our journey together – thirteen year old me and her, a slight pain in the ass.
And then, after a bit of a clumsy fall during a bad-ass trip to an amazing place half way across the world which I could still never bring myself to ever regret, she was gone.
I’ve missed her like I can’t explain… it’s not just a matter of getting off the monthly train of routine or parting with your favorite underwear far too soon. Her absence was felt in the depth of my soul and what’s worse, was only felt as an absence of feeling… and on some days, no soul at all.
I can’t even count the number of times when I would force myself to watch some sad pathetic movie just to awaken any sort of sense of pain… sense of anything, really, that would feel normal. I wish I had a better way to explain what it’s like to feel like less of a woman… In a way, the thing that is most frustrating about her tendency to stop by for a visit, is that she doesn’t always give a shit about what’s going on in your life … where you are, what you’re doing and whether or not this is a good time… it’s a good time for her and she’s back.
…bringing with her some less than desirable consequences … sometimes like clockwork and sometimes not, the bottom line of which is that you have no control. Every time she’s back, without giving it much thought a person is reminded of their inexplicable tie to our physical nature, our biology. You as a human being are just a tool of nature and as much as you may think you’re living through your own determination of destiny and reality, you own control of your needs, ambitions and desires, you’re really just reacting to the mammal inside you, until that is you awaken one day, like me, and you’re not.
And it’s in that moment, when all of a sudden biology is no longer a part of your daily struggles, and no time is a bad time for your best underwear, and there isn’t really a week you feel more manic than another, or a cramp you despise like someone actually did punch you in the gut, and when you’re bloated you can’t blame anyone but yourself.
You’re not really waiting for her to show up or leave… and when friends ask to spot you, you’ve got nothing to offer them – you haven’t bought one of those in god knows how long. And still, even after 15 months of having lost her, a part of me was never able to give up… for if I gave up on her, I might have had to give up on myself too.
So when she finally barged in yesterday, a little lost and battered perhaps, I couldn’t believe my eyes. I threw myself at her like you would at a long lost friend… together we screamed and laughed and cried and jumped for joy. For old time sake I got on her case about the lack of warning and as usual, terrible timing. I was already running late for my date and was now going to have to make a stop at the store.
I twirled the box of tampax in my hand while standing in line like it was a box of chocolates, surely it was the most thrilling 6 euros I’ve spent in Belgium so far. I begged for a worker to open the already closed bathroom door at the mall…’it’s an emergency’ I said… he must have been confused by my excitement and glowing smile, …but I could have kissed him!
I’m so glad she’s back.
…and I hope she stays a while …and I hope she comes again.