They call me Betty Boop

They used not to call me anything.
I've long been involved into rickety beginnings of bad stories. You know, the kind that actually end up in the usual happiness and wedding and kids, and cute puppy and all that stuff. Except that I was never the bride, nor the mother of the beautiful blond kids. I was the one who brings the futur husband and bride together by mistake, awkwardness or by just being there. And the one who ends up holding the rings, the eyes full of tears. Not tears of emotion. Acid tears of rage and anger against myself because I should be the one wearing the ridiculousy cheesy white dress and the huge victory smile over her face. The one who keeps the puppy during the honey moon. That was me.

I wonder how...
I wonder why they never picked me. I ain't the kinda girl that is gonna look for trouble. I ain't the jealous kind either. I'm the peaceful kind. The kinda person who's gonna let you live it your own way. No intrusion. No pressure. No bad feelings.
You know what ? I never wanted to get into that kinda considerations. But if I let myself slip onto the slope of too quick interpretation, I would conclude that peope like the other kind. The picky. The intrusive. The jealous. The directive. The tiresome.
But let's not put it that way. Let's just dare imagine this is an odd result from a sum of unfortunate circumstances. Let's not blame them all. Let's not call them cowards. Let's not call myself naive. Let me play fair and accept the defeats.

Anyway, I forgot myself. I let the perspective of a happy destiny aside. No expectations bringing no deception.
I started throwing away my old discreet clothes. I cut my hair, getting rid of my unprovocative profile. I started using make up. And through this slow but determined process, I learnt how to swap my ideals for tiny contentments. My wedding for a hug. A blond kid for a smile. A puppy for an orgasm. My love for some desire.

I ain't broken. I ain't bitter. I ain't hopeless.
My designs are frozen. My great expectations are lying down in a deep coma. Waiting for a dawn.

They call me Betty Boop.
I don't like it.
But at least they call me something now.

Comments

[mathea7]

superbe!
j'aurais voulu savoir ecrire aussi dans cette autre langue alors merci a toi!

[Ash]

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