I’ve been in a publishing slump, which I shouldn’t complain about because I normally get at least one acceptance letter a month from a journal. So why am I bitching when I don’t for two months? Because I can and January and February was kind of shitty anyways.
But this Monday I found out one of my poems got accepted into a badass anthology about women’s issue. An Anthology I was really hoping to get into. I mean I had busted my ass with the poem they accepted too. Rewrite, after rewrite and I had even gotten to the point of sending it to my old professor (a week before I found out) and he was like, “I don’t find anything to cut or pinch or snip. It’s funny and partly scandalous and damn good.”
The poem that was accepted is about my old ex/hook-up/whatever you want to label “Virgin BlowJob.” The poem carries images touching on memory, my emotions and the sense of place. But especially the emotions, the idea that “I wasn’t the one.” Because he that said to my face, “It’s not like we’re gonna get married or anything.” This was right before the blowjob I gave him.
This was the image that stuck the most with me from the hook-up. It wasn’t like I was hoping I end up with this guy at all during the hook-up, but we had gotten close, we had stayed up late talking a lot. I didn’t think marriage, but I thought I was more than a blowjob.
He made me realize two things:
- Just because you’re a virgin doesn’t mean you’re not a chauvinistic pig.
- Men really do think like that don’t they? They really think “well this is just a fuck.”
And you know the worst part is I think I was just a girl to fuck around with because I wasn’t a virgin and he couldn’t be in a real relationship with someone who slept around. (He was religious to a fault).
It’s funny though because last night an old friend was asking about him. Gosh, I hadn’t really thought about him since I posted about him on this blog and it’s been a year and a half since the corn field thing happened and a just about a year since I’ve spoken to him.
So, since it was getting close to 3AM and my mind needed a break from submissions I decided to take a peek at his Facebook profile.
He just recently (like last week) proposed to his girlfriend.
I never really have mentioned this before, but the moment he said to me, “not like we’re gonna get married” his Ex girlfriend popped in his head because I knew and felt that was who he wanted to marry.
I’m not sad or hurt.
It’s more of just a “huh. Well, look at that.
My poem was pretty much on target, huh?”