Oh-oh, yes I'm the great pretender.
Pretending that I'm doing well...
My need is such I pretend too much,
I'm lonely but no one can tell...
She turned the key and as she opened the door she felt the relief wash over her. She stepped inside, took off her heels and immediately found some comfy sleep pants to slip on. It had been one of those weeks and she was so thankful for the coming weekend where she could close herself off from the world and forget her worries.
She poured a glass of wine and settled on the couch. Romeo came out from somewhere and rubbed around her legs. She reached for him but he didn’t choose to be touched so she let it go. Romeo was her rescue cat. He was big, gray, with deep green eyes and no tail. He was a Manx cat. She called him Romeo because he was forever hiding from her. She’d call, “O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?” and he’d appear from wherever it was he had concealed himself. Especially if there was something to eat! He was a typical cat.
She switched on the television and found an old movie. She preferred old movies or chick flicks over the action, blood, guts and gore movies that were so popular nowadays. She liked old detective and who done its but didn’t watch horror movies. All of the jumping out and scaring wasn’t a good thing when living alone.
She picked up her latest project. It was another shawl. She didn’t need another shawl, but they were easy, fun and she enjoyed making them. She wore them occasionally and saw through the fake compliments she received. But she didn’t care. She liked them and she would wear them when she pleased. It was a choice she had control over.
She appreciated the texture of the yarn as it slipped through her fingers. The colors were soothing. As she completed each stitch she pondered the events of the previous week. She wasn’t sure when it hit but she finally got it. It wasn’t that she was a hard study. Not at all. In fact, she had a brain. She used it and she had opinions. That’s what the problem was. The expectation was to conform, to complete without questioning. Obey orders, don’t think. Just say yes. It was a Stepford like experience. She finally realized that’s what it would take.
She sighed as she reached the end of the row. Why couldn’t she have been born independently wealthy? Why wasn’t she smart enough to have made her own fortune? Why did she have to depend on other people’s decisions and choices, just to pay her bills? It wasn’t fair. But at least she had a couple of days to be herself. To think her thoughts, agree, disagree and even have an idea. It wouldn’t last, but she’d savor the time while she had it.
Too soon it would be Monday. She’d swallow the bottle of yes sir yes ma’ams before she went to bed. She’d have to get the mask out of the closet when she got dressed and place it on her face as she headed out the door. She’d pretend all was great and nobody would be the wiser. It was stressful, but if that’s what it took, she’d do it. She’d go on pretending until she didn’t have to pretend any more.
Oh-oh, yes I'm the great pretender.
Adrift in a world of my own.
I've played the game but to my real shame,
You've left me to grieve all alone...
Supposedly there are two kinds of knitting; knitting to finish or knitting as a process. I’ve come to realize I’m a process knitter. I just like the knitting part. I do actually finish things. I give them away or wear them myself.
|A Rollercoaster...scarf, shawl thing.|
|Kind of asymmetrical. Completely finished!|
Yes I'm the great pretender.
Just laughin' and gay like a clown.
I seem to be what I'm not, you see…