I get a note saying “thanks anyway”.
Who gets a note saying that?
People who don’t try hard enough
to get what they want out of life,
those are the people who receive
notes on their nightstand—
thanks anyway,
and thanks
for nothing.

I grew up with a skewed perception
of the kind of woman I would be,
thinking maybe I’d have darker hair,
or that it would curl easier;
but also thinking I would be strong
and independent like they always say
we should be—as if vulnerability were
a bad thing in this day and age (it is,
incase you didn’t get the memo).

But nobody wants to see a woman
so stable in her life that she doesn’t need
a man to come and save her—
this is the image we most often portray,
but honestly, baby, we need you.
You just have to wait and see;
it’s not an “ask and you’ll know”
kind of thing.

I think my ideas of modern day women
were all tainted by popular television.
But I never wanted to be the lawyer
or the doctor with the boy
chasing after her like she’s the only thing
he’s ever understood—she’s not,
he still doesn’t understand her,
even when he tries
(this is the way of men).

As much as I’ve fancied fantasies
like this one, I’ve always held deep-seeded
understanding that I’m not that kind of person.
And I came to a deal with
the sound of my heart beating
that no one would run after me
in the rain.
Not because I’m independent,
like the woman I imagined,
but because along with that
I added contempt to the picture.

And so I don’t get boys,
frustrated with my behavior,
sacrificing their clothing
to stop me on my leave.
I get notes that say “thanks anyway,
but I never needed you dear.
I just wanted something
to make me feel loved,
and now that I do, I think I’m done.

“But thank you for the concern.
I appreciate your friendship.
I’ll call you when I want you.
Don’t bother calling me.”

04/06/2008

Author's Note: Self-portraits are my children.

Posted on 04/06/2008
Copyright © 2010 Rachel C Johnson