Dancing with the devil again…. As though I could ever lead that dance or win at that game, but here I go anyway. If I were a crayon, I’d have to be the brightest shade of hopelessly hopeful spring green! Although I would be a chameleon crayon that would change into a hopelessly romantic bubble gum pink when I’m dancing with the devil. Turning into despondent depressed blue when he wins again, as he always does because I was never intended as strong enough to dance with the devil. I am putty to his game…a hopeless, spineless formless blob of bleeding heart red up against his dangerous-razor- of-apathy-black.
He is a chameleon crayon too, only his changes come as he senses what color I want him to be at any given moment, steps into it subtly like a form-fitting suit of body armor that deceptively appears to be his true color…and there I go again. Whirling and swirling with his Crayola-color of the moment; his disguise to lure me into feeling safe as he slices me to shreds when his authentic color shows again, as it always eventually will.
I wonder if my God-given vocation is the devil’s free prostitute? It seems I’m intended only as a vehicle of physical desire. Somewhere along the way, all my other gifts have been rendered useless- without a single morsel of value in this world. All the beautiful gifts that people were shocked and bewildered to discover once they got past my exterior appearance…
My friend Lisa tells me this weekend, “Girl, you just WOW me! You have everything – the total package!! And I can’t understand how someone like you could ever be single!?” I just smile and look away because I know that none of that means anything … and hasn’t for so long, I forget it’s even there. The devil doesn’t care what my other qualities are. Only that which feeds his desire and renders his physical satisfaction, which is decidedly not my “other” qualities. Any and all of my exes would have sex with me in a heartbeat, as would most any random male who comes around. No, this is not arrogance or conceit on my part…believe me I do not have that. I’ve just learned from my years of dancing with the devil that my other qualities matter not at all to anyone any more. Except in those brief sad moments when my friend reminds me of them and I just feel sad that anyone can still recognize any of that, since it doesn’t matter anymore – useless qualities which only serve to make me think I might once have been worth more…until I started dancing with the devil…sad to remember even because they seem to only hold me back from accepting my true purpose in life…to serve sexual desires and prompt fantasies.
Why do I even have any other qualities? I know she meant it as a compliment though… It was very kind of her to recognize me. It made me hope for a minute…just enough to get back on the dance floor with him. Geesh!
For such a woe-is-me post here, I’m surprisingly resigned at the moment. I don’t really feel sorry for myself. i know it could always be so much worse! Many don’t have the blessings I have, so how dare I be such a pitiful ingrate? There are ceratainly far worse possibilities in life than having a clset full of precious charcteristics which don’t make a bit of difference and serve no real purpose in the world
So today I’ve been invited to dance in the sun with the devil. And although I’ve not committed myself to it yet…heaven knows I’ll be frolicking about in the sun as his prism, changing colors as he does because I can never remember my real color when I dance with him in spiritual and physical passionate delight. My only constant color being a twist between The Devil’s Concubine Fiery Red and Optimistically Naïve Spring Green…
And although I already know the doom of the future of this dance…..Crayola dance, I will!