Of bone soup and her unpredictability index

Painting by Olga Beaton.

Sometimes being unpredictable isn’t an asset. She’s sweet now, she’s a bitch later. Mood swings, ticks, fits, and helluva lot of surprises. Multiple personalities in one dinner with your favorite bone soup. You won’t eat that bone soup anymore. She will ruin it with her unsolicited sudden pessimism about life. She will ask, “What the hell are we doing?” while you try to recuperate your bone soup disappointment with milk tea. Your mouth will be stuck in that straw. “What the hell are we doing?”

Damn the woman, you don’t know yourself! You are in love with a lot of persons in one body. What the hell are you doing? She’s unpredictable. You tried and tried and tried. You tried to understand. But you lost that drive anymore. Her ticks and fits and helluva lot of surprises numb you. You don’t know her anymore. A million versions of her in one dinner date. She likes pudding now, she loathes it later. She likes her dress now, she wants to get naked later. She loves you now, then she will ask “What the hell are we doing?” later. You don’t know what the hell is going on. You try to get out but you can’t. Why? You still hope of seeing her in one piece–that version of her that you loved. Damnable love. Damnable feelings.

Being unpredictable is a shitload that doesn’t make sense at all. Why do you have to be this mean? Why do you shock me with your ticks and fits and helluva lot of surprises? I don’t need to be shocked. I want clarity. I want to see one version of you while we sit and warm our asses on a fine dinner date with bone soup and milk tea and pudding and buttered chicken and turkey. Why can’t you be one at a time? Why do you ask “What the hell are we doing?” Don’t you know? We are screwing ourselves waiting for each other to get lost. I don’t want that bone soup anymore. Damn that bone soup. I want to get the hell out and cuddle up my pillow–doesn’t matter if you’ll come along with your multiple personalities.

You’re too unpredictable. It’s too much. It’s too painful. But I love you and that’s where I lose despite my whines. I love you. Damn I love you. Please be kind and come back in one piece, baby. Come back in one piece.

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