A gesture of dismissal July 23, 2012

 


I have to stop reacting to what she posts on her site.

I keep re reading the Forgiveness poem and get enraged over the assumptions she made and the attitude she’s adopted, the presumption that all the blame is on my side, when it is not.

Mary Ann calls it “passive aggressive,” in that she apparently gets to play victim while is actually the orchestrator.

I’m not sure I’d go that far, even though at times over the last six months some of her actions seemed calculated. Yet just as often, she seemed to be a different person at different times, almost scripted for the occasion.

I can’t tell if this is intentional or merely how she copes with the world.

She spends a lot of time self-promoting, perhaps – as my old Freudian Professor Thomas might have claimed – in desperate need of love.

The salesman at the office sees her as some kind of magnet. Men are drawn to her, and she seems to accept that as natural, the right and proper way of her world. She gets upset when someone eventually upsets the routine – which always eventually happens as men get too consumed with her and want to own her.

Not all men do, only men of a certain kind. Many appear perfectly content to love her at afar, to have had their brief moment on the stage to later fall into supporting roles – friends or angels as she might call them.

But like any good casting director, she selects those who get their chance to perform with her, and later to reject them.

Those who get too addicted to her eventually become her stalkers.

But she has said more than once, when she moves on, she never looks back, and there is a certain attractive arrogance in that, making it worse for those addicted to her.

I guess that’s what’s most disturbing about the tone in her poem, the royal arrogance, a sense of superiority, a queen ushering the undeserving from her presence.

She’s too good a word smith for this to be accidental, imperial gesture dismissing the unworthy from her company. Powerful poetry and equally powerful revenge, she knowing perfectly well how indignant I will become by it, and how profound an insult.

 

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