Wanna Dance?

At an Elvis impersonation concert last week, Nellie went around the room asking random men to dance.  Some agreed and did and her face lit up and she danced so well and happy.  Others refused and she shrugged and moved to the next man.  Ha to those of you who refused (yea I am giving you the finger right now) too bad you were not that special anyway.  She doesn’t give a shit actually!  Me?  Oh I was in the back watching, marking the cards of those refusers….. ‘I will get you later’.

I spend my life watching people interact with Nellie and, as I like to say, MARK THEIR CARD.  That just means “yep buddy I got you I will never forget you and when you need something, even just a smile, I will just walk away and watch you shrivel up and die… oh yea I got you pegged”.  That’s what it means to me and I have a lot of cards in my pocket….. hundreds, all ages of people, all races, all abilities, and all sexes.  But when things happen to Nellie, Peter will remind me to really look at Nellie.  Does she care?  Well she must right?  Who would like to be refused all the time, ignored a lot of the time?  Not me, I have rejection issues, surely Nellie does too? 

But I think I should rip them up, burn them.  Because Nellie doesn’t have any cards.  She doesn’t collect cards like a collection, like me, and holds them tight til her knuckles go white.  She just moves on, shrugs, yea shrugs. I got to try that, I am shrugging now…… well I may have to practice….. but these ‘cards’ they are not healthy, they are burning a hole in my pocket….. in my heart……   How can I be learning from Nellie when I carry these around, she doesn’t and it’s her life?  Yea I birthed her and breastfed her for 3 years but its her life not mine and she seems to be doing just fine.  I need to butt out.