We’ve all met the Man with the Beard.
I met mine in Marfa, Texas. We crashed a wedding and we kissed. I went back to Brooklyn. He stayed in Marfa. He called me baby. I fell in “love.” Then things fizzled. Now, I reflect inwards with a list of questions of all the things I think I’ve done wrong as a way to explain why this person has not asked me to move to West Texas and be his girlfriend.
Is it because I didn’t know the name of the DP for the film Larry Clark made after Tulsa? Or was it because I liked Clueless better than Kids?
Is it because the inside of my apartment has never been photographed for “The Selby”? Is it because the inside of my apartment will never be photographed for “The Selby”? It is because your apartment was photographed for “The Selby”?
Is it that I said I don’t like beer, and that wine gives me cystic acne? Is it because a lifestyle without beer doesn’t appeal to your sensibilities? And, because, in a way, that lets you know I’m not a chill girl and you’re looking for a chill girl? (I drink bourbon on the rocks, exclusively, which I think is kind of chill. But maybe it’s tacky. Idk. Is that what you think? That I’m tacky?)
Or was it the wine bit about the cystic acne? It’s true. Was it because you thought it wasn’t true? Or did you just envision me with cystic acne and become permanently repulsed by the idea of my infected pores?
Is it because I am tall? Was it about my body in any way? Would you tell me the truth if it were? Do you think I’m fat? Are you lying?
It is because of my need to tell everyone I meet and fall in love with everything about me at the slightest provocation (because of this quote from Tender Is the Night that speaks to me)?
Is it because I am emotionally unavailable, yet needy? That I don’t really care, but I care too much? It is because I hate you, but I love you, but I’m over it because you aren’t paying attention to me?
Is it because I paid for our drinks at the cash-only bar because I had cash and that emasculated you? Was it because you think I fancy myself a sugar mama? Even though I am five years younger than you and v. poor, because I don’t fancy myself a sugar mama. I have anxiety about money and gender roles and a subconscious proclivity toward emasculation, that’s all!
Was it because I asked if I could Uber to the airport even though I had a rental car? Do you not like Uber? Did you not want me to stay? You wanted me to go?
Was it because I called you out for writing “your” when it should have been “you’re”? Mainly because I wanted to let you know that “your crazy” has entirely different implications that “you’re crazy.” Did you not know that?
Is it because I don’t have a photo blog or give good social media? Or is it because I never LOL’ed, only hahaha’ed?
Is it because I let you sleep over and only let you kiss me and you thought the first part was slutty and the second part a tease? (Because I had been warned about that.)
Did I sweat on you while we were asleep? (It was very hot in the safari tent where we slept.) Are you just v. busy? Are you just not that into me? Are you dead?
IDK. But, that is all I want to know.