Dita Parker

Saturday, February 25, 2012

What's eating Dita Parker

Dear Diary, 

She's still ignoring me. My maker. She's been ignoring me all week. I never asked her to spend a winter break with me, did I? Oh. I did. Repeatedly. Okay. What-ev-er. I know I serve at her pleasure. Still, I feel left out. I know she didn't have a family so she could escape them every chance she got. Still, I envy them right now and wonder why she created me. I knew there would be days like this. She said there would be. Still, it pisses me off she'll never exist for me and me alone.

I try to understand, I really do. I do understand. Still, when she sneaks into the den late at night, it feels like a secret rendezvous. And when she leaves, all too soon, I feel jilted. I tempt her with WIPs, remind her of the fun we have, of the satisfaction only I can bring. And how does she repay me? She takes notes and then she denies me. "Not now. One thing at a time. All in good time." "When?" I want to scream after her. But I sense her frustration. At the pace things are moving, in what lifetime will I have time for that, she's thinking.

Maybe I'm being punished. Maybe this is a punishment. Because I remind her. I remind of her of that back office stuff. I know she expected all sorts of things to happen. I know she never expected this. I know she wants this, but not at any price. And it frightens me, what she's thinking. It's a matter of principle. A matter of trust. I know she won't forget. I feel her helplessness and I almost, almost feel sorry for her.

Wait. What? She thinks she can make me forget about everything just by making me feel for her? Does she expect me to welcome her with open arms on Monday just because she's feeling bad? What am I? Miss Understanding? Hah. I'm a person, not her plaything. I'm not going to be like the rest of the writers in her. I'm not going to kiss up to her just because she's feeling sad. Do they make her laugh like I do? Okay, so they don't make her mad. What-ev-er. She needs me. She needs me and she'd better not forget it. And if she doesn't start treating me better, I'm leaving her. For good.

Yeah. That's what I'm telling her first thing Monday morning. That I'm on vacation. Winter break. Pff. Without me...she still exists. Without her, I...  Better sleep on it first. See how I feel about it tomorrow. It's not as if she has given up on me. I know she hasn't. Because just when I start to feel I've lost her to the world, she turns those lion eyes on me, and I freeze. "Don't give up on me," she mouths. And she blows me a kiss and skates away and I forgive and try to forget and I try to remember that if I don't believe in her as she believes in me then there's no hope for us.

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