Act 1/ Day 2: The thing with the, gooey fish
I am not the mystery girl, never have been and never want to be. Here is why…
We all know it, this girl. Probably Scorpio in the Moon sign and Sagittarius in the Sun. Unicorn in Mars and Lada Gaga in Saturn. We all know this girl who is extroverted and flamboyant enough to stand out and introverted enough not to reveal too much of herself. We know the mysterious smile that she copied from the Mona Lisa and her upright gait that was probably forced on her in ballet as a toddler. We know her cynical, quick humor and her sense of justice, but we know nothing about who she really is.
We know this girl because we grew up with her. Like Belle (Beauty and the Beast), for example, who sneaks around the village with her book and is somehow the only person who doesn’t get nauseous while she reads AND moves.
She’s so non-conformist, independent.
So different. So beautiful.
So unnecessary
Probably the nicest compliment a man once gave me…
… was when I was trying to break up with him and he said I was like a gooey fish you couldn’t get a hold of. I thought it was inappropriate that while I was struggling to leave him without hurting him, he gave me such a great compliment, but I was flattered. A slippery fish. The prize you can’t have.
Was I about to be the mystery girl? I’m a Gemini in the Moon, so I’m afraid I’m very talkative. But my Aquarius in the Sun sign, provides the breeze of misanthropy that Belle also had. The thought that I could be this mystery girl filled me with pride, because after all, that would also mean that I must be independent and downright smart.
Alas, no.
I certainly didn’t fall on my head,
yet I always found it very difficult to view and understand independence in the context of love.
I would rather be a slippery fish that glides through the sea alone when necessary than a princess who trades her independence for Stockholm syndrome and then calls it love.
I would rather never be caught and never be understood than be hurt just once. Especially as a gooey fish, after all, you always have to be prepared for love to jab a barb into your jaw and hinder you from speaking up, for yourself and your needs.
That was love for me:
Something that catches me and holds me captive.
Barbed its way into my voice
Making me mute…
And ultimately leaves me lonelier than I was then
Alone in the sea.
I’ve learned something recently.
It’s not a compliment to be called a slippery fish.
It’s an expression of concern that your fear of being hurt is digging into your heart like a hook.
It is the message that fear likes to come in the costume of love.
It is a call to stand still and feel, instead of running away and assuming that you can hide from life.
Life and love are synonyms and not opposites.
All these fish in the sea
They believe that love captures you…
When it wants nothing but to free.
