"And *POOF* She was gone!"
Nothing magical happened here...just something necessary.
As my beau left me on the bed, nude except for the sheet demurely covering my bum, he reminded me once more of the checkout time. I waved behind me and continued flipping through the last issue of W Magazine. My relaxed state was quite the ruse...I sprung from the bed as soon as I heard his footsteps hollow and began dressing in the outfit I'd placed on the top of my baggage. This outfit is a bit different from what my body is used to being covered in: it is misshapen and baggy, as it was formerly someone else's...I got it at a thrift store in Florida before I left. The colors I wear are drab and have nothing to do with fashion consciousness. The woman that is pulling her thick, luxe locks into an unstructured ponytail does not resemble the Palm Beach Princess-poser that entered this room just yesterday.
I begin to sort my clothing according to the 'new' and 'old' me. I will ship the jewelry to my younger sister (quite slowly) to avoid anyone claiming I was kidnapped or wandered off in some mania. I am quite sane and going willingly. 'Do people donate makeup?' I wonder aloud, then throw it away for sanitary reasons. As everything is sorted and I fill the curious duffle bag (that I acquired from the thrift store also) with clothes for the 'new' me, I in turn zip into garment bags all the lovely items that will be donated, in the name of the girl at the front desk, that I have gained a rapport with over the past few days. At these last moments I realized my beau could not know of my plans; if I were truly to be a Phoenix, one could not be re-born with a foot out the fire.
The packing and re-packing done, I squared my shoulders back and released all concern about who will think what about where I am or may be, and what I have done or am planning to do. I escaped once to New York but I foolishly returned. I was still ME just in a different location. This incarnation has filed change of name documentation; secured employment; and had a friend at a government office seal up records so that I will prove at least difficult to trace for approximately a year. That will be all it takes for peace of mind! My family will find the tower they built empty...I stare at my ponytail's length and wonder if Rapunzel ever missed her locks. I take the garment bags down with many 'thank you's and 'you're so kind's exchanged. I return to the room, sling my duffel over my shoulder and make my way to the train station/greyhound station, bidding my 'old' Self adieu. There are no movie references, yet, in this incarnation. As I find parallels I will surely use them. Just wait...I've been told women like me are all inherent mystery, and we bring excitement wherever we roam. We will see, dear reader, we will see.
I am not Waldo: my new locations will not be given, or deciphered, so don't trouble yourself about the where. Kisses, M.~
As my beau left me on the bed, nude except for the sheet demurely covering my bum, he reminded me once more of the checkout time. I waved behind me and continued flipping through the last issue of W Magazine. My relaxed state was quite the ruse...I sprung from the bed as soon as I heard his footsteps hollow and began dressing in the outfit I'd placed on the top of my baggage. This outfit is a bit different from what my body is used to being covered in: it is misshapen and baggy, as it was formerly someone else's...I got it at a thrift store in Florida before I left. The colors I wear are drab and have nothing to do with fashion consciousness. The woman that is pulling her thick, luxe locks into an unstructured ponytail does not resemble the Palm Beach Princess-poser that entered this room just yesterday.
I begin to sort my clothing according to the 'new' and 'old' me. I will ship the jewelry to my younger sister (quite slowly) to avoid anyone claiming I was kidnapped or wandered off in some mania. I am quite sane and going willingly. 'Do people donate makeup?' I wonder aloud, then throw it away for sanitary reasons. As everything is sorted and I fill the curious duffle bag (that I acquired from the thrift store also) with clothes for the 'new' me, I in turn zip into garment bags all the lovely items that will be donated, in the name of the girl at the front desk, that I have gained a rapport with over the past few days. At these last moments I realized my beau could not know of my plans; if I were truly to be a Phoenix, one could not be re-born with a foot out the fire.
The packing and re-packing done, I squared my shoulders back and released all concern about who will think what about where I am or may be, and what I have done or am planning to do. I escaped once to New York but I foolishly returned. I was still ME just in a different location. This incarnation has filed change of name documentation; secured employment; and had a friend at a government office seal up records so that I will prove at least difficult to trace for approximately a year. That will be all it takes for peace of mind! My family will find the tower they built empty...I stare at my ponytail's length and wonder if Rapunzel ever missed her locks. I take the garment bags down with many 'thank you's and 'you're so kind's exchanged. I return to the room, sling my duffel over my shoulder and make my way to the train station/greyhound station, bidding my 'old' Self adieu. There are no movie references, yet, in this incarnation. As I find parallels I will surely use them. Just wait...I've been told women like me are all inherent mystery, and we bring excitement wherever we roam. We will see, dear reader, we will see.
I am not Waldo: my new locations will not be given, or deciphered, so don't trouble yourself about the where. Kisses, M.~
Labels: Through the Aether into Empyrean
posted by ScreenGoddessComplex at 2:07 PM
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