The lesson of the hands

For some time San had been telling me that my first lover did not love me, that he abused me. I merely said he was not there, so he did not know.

But now I see the possibility that San was telling me that he, San did not love me as he thought he did. That I am not one who may be loved. As he came to know me, so he ceased. Enough to leave me like a dog one tires of.

Once my first lover fucked me over a dead dog. It is the only time I recall there was nothing beautiful in it, and it hurt, and the dog smelled and there were maggots. And he told me that is what happens to people who are no longer useful. They are left on the side of the road like stray dogs, to die, to become maggoty. There was a maggot in my hair afterwards.

But I digress. Perhaps I digress. This question of usefulness comes up, for in not coming to San in the flesh, I am not useful. But even that is a digression.

I had thought our children would not grow without love, but Asher grows now. I had thought the bond was true, but when my hands ache now they are mine alone.

It is a large thought. A soul-crushing thought, so it is good I gave mine up long ago.

Once, I would have slaughtered his children over this growing realization. It is an irony that he always opposed the killing of the other little ones, telling me I should allow them to scream even if their screams disturbed me, and now Sassy has her peace perhaps in the same manner.

But then I think well, it is just another excuse, to say San is dead or locked away. It is just one more way to put off this thought: That in the end, I could not be loved. The look in my eyes could never be matched in his, and he only loved the fantasy – not who I was, truly.

Was that not the meaning of the song?

Lexi says anyone who can convince me to post this song gains points. I think she means because it is soft. But this song is not soft; it is only soft for those who mistake it. This song is as hard and unflinching as steel and I will be glad to include it. I once met Joni Mitchell, only for a moment, but we looked at each other’s eyes. She was quite old and to sing she had to smoke, and her skin was that sort of aged skin that seems thicker. But she was strong. She had been singing this song for longer than this body was alive. I think it would make one thus, for all that she smiles hopefully in this video, in pink.

The truth is regardless, I do love him. Ah well.



About Jenn

Find me on Twitter @JennGruden
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