Sunday, December 30, 2007
A foreign object has taken up residence in my bathroom. It's not actually foreign, it's more like a new addition to the family. I mean, it speaks the language and everything. It's rather small but it's prickly presence packs a wallop. It's red and cavorts with mine like they have always known eachother. They mingle and sometimes lie down together. Sometimes their bristles even touch. One is mine and one is hers. In case you are slow and hadn't figured it out, it's a toothbrush. Unassuming, it just sits there and mocks me anytime I brush my own teeth or wash my face or pop a zit. Sometimes when I look at it I wonder, how did I get here? Who is this woman that gets out of my bed in the morning and brushes her teeth in my sink. the panic is insignificant, but it's there, bubbling and then I see her and I remember. She is the stranger that I think about when I fall asleep alone, the stranger I think about when I wake up in the morning. The one person that makes time slip away that I actually want to sleep with. The person who makes me smile, makes me laugh uncontrollably. I hardly know her. I've only just met her but with this toothbrush I am tied to her and, strangely, that's okay. At first it scared me because I could almost see the U-Haul truck it was towing up the street behind it but then I realized, hey, it's just a fucking toothbrush. And like any new relationship you can chuck it in the bin right away or use it for two weeks six months or... well, you probably wouldn't want to use it for the rest of your life, but give me a break, it's a metaphor. The funny thing is, it slipped in just how she did, by accident. This quiet little woman just appeared in my life one day, an unexpected remedy for something I was quietly ignoring.