This is one of my favorite poems of all time. I recall first reading it in high school.
Ha, I was head over heels in love with a fellow named Seth (henceforth called Mr. Perfect) and he had no clue I was alive. He was a jock, I was a show choir/theater nerd. :) We used to 'happen' to pass by each other in the hall (only because I tried to follow him and find out his schedule so I could 'happen' to pass by) and we would lock eyes in the hall (because I have never been able to resist a staredown) and he would smile and if he did not have the most perfect teeth I have ever seen in my life!!!!!!!
Whew, I need a moment...
Anyhow, it was at that point in my life, I learned that we all want what we can't have. It has become a mantra of mine, although, here recently, I find myself questioning it. Not questioning the validity of the statement, but more of a "Why?" "Why can't I have it if I want it?"
I have not come up with an answer yet. Honestly, I sound like a whiny child arguing with a parent about going to bed..."but I don't WANNA go to bed...WHYYYYYYYYY????"
Its JUST the way it is, I laugh at this because one of the fellows I work with uses this phrase in training others when they ask questions and he doesnt know the answer or has a hard time explaining the answer. "Its just the way it is...it is funny, we make fun of him. digression, sorry
So Mr. Perfect is no longer, as I have realized there is no such thing, and as depressing as that is, that is one thing I do find a small bit of comfort in. Because that means I can stop wasting my fucking time looking, not that I spent a great deal of time at it anyways. Most men who want to take me out have heard my "the only man in my life for the next 10 years has blond hair and sleeps with a teddy bear", speech.
But you still want it. You want that person you can't have, the relationship you can't have, that 5th glass of wine you can't have, to where it becomes an obsession.
So thank you, Maggie Estep, for your insight, your wisdom, and your stupid fucking jerk, because we all have one...
The Stupid Jerk I'm Obsessed With by Maggie Estep
The stupid jerk I'm obsessed withstands so close to me
I can feel his breath
on my neck
and smell
the way he would smell
if we slept together
because he is the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with
and that is his primary function in life
to be a stupid jerk I can obsess over
and to talk to that dingy bimbette blonde as if he really wanted to hear about her
manicures and
pedicures and
New Age ritualistic enema cures and
truth be known, he probably does wanna hear about it
because he is the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with
and he's obsessed with doing anything he can
to lend fuel to my fire
he makes a point of standing
looking over my shoulder when I'm talking to the guy who adores me
and would bark like a dog
and wave to strangers
if I asked him to bark like a dog
and wave to strangers
but I can't ask him to bark like a dog
or impersonate any kind of animal at all
cause I'm too busy
looking at the way the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with
has pants on that perfectly define his well-shaped ass
to the point where I'm thoroughly frantic
I'm just gonna go home and stick my head in the oven
overdose on nutmeg and aspirin
and sit in the bathtub reading The Executioner's Song
and being completely confounded by the fact
that I can seethe stupid jerk I'm obsessed with's face
defining itself in the peeling plaster of the wall
grinning and winking
and I start to yell,
Get the hell out of there
You're just a figment of my imagination
Just get a life and get out of my plaster
and pass me the next painful situation please
but he just keeps on
grinning and winking
he's the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with
and he's mine
in my plaster
And frankly, I couldn't be happier. - Maggie Estep
~Lisa Marie
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