Plastic Folding Chairs

Summary

The content reflects on the author's personal journey with transient living, symbolized by their use of plastic folding chairs, and their emotional struggles with commitment and the desire for stability and love.

Abstract

The author describes their life with minimal possessions, such as two plastic folding chairs and a matching table, which they've adorned with a floral tablecloth to beautify their space. This sparse furnishing represents their readiness to start over and the fear of settling down, as they've had to move frequently. The chairs serve as a metaphor for the author's reluctance to commit, not just in their living situation but also in relationships. Despite a longing for love and protection, there's an underlying fear of vulnerability and a history of hardships that make the author hesitant to fully engage in a relationship. The author grapples with the desire for safety and stability against a backdrop of constant movement, questioning whether running away is a protective measure or a response to fear.

Opinions

The author associates the plastic folding chairs with the impermanence of their living situation and a life of starting over.
There's a sense of resistance to unpacking and fully settling down, stemming from a history of frequent moves.
The author feels that their transient lifestyle may be hindering their readiness for a committed relationship and the stability that comes with it.
Despite desiring love, there's a deep-seated fear of getting hurt again, leading to a preference for safety over the potential pain of love.
The author reflects on their pattern of running away and whether it's a strategy for self-preservation or an expression of fear.
There's a yearning for a sense of security and the feeling of being loved and protected, which seems elusive in their current lifestyle.
The author is introspective about their attraction to "poison" in relationships, suggesting a pattern of attracting harmful partners.
They express a hope to be proven wrong in their belief that "nothing good can stay," indicating a desire for positive change in their life.

Plastic Folding Chairs

Two plastic folding chairs from Walmart, not much because nobody needs much when they’re in the business of starting over. Both black with a plastic folding table to match, not that it’s a match that you could catch: a floral tablecloth because I could teach a master class on how to make cheap things look good.

Two chairs because a pair is all I need. One for my home office and the other in the kitchen to eat, or if I have energy remaining after the day has run its course, to read. It’s genuinely rare that I have company. Occasionally a friend stops by to see me.

Part of me wonders if it’s that I’m afraid to unpack: it’s not that I don’t want to and it’s not that I can’t. But every time I think that I’m about to settle down, I have to run, and you can only run so many times before you’re run down. I am run down. Scared of opening that plastic tote and taking everything out. There’s so much that I don’t wanna see. There is so much that I don’t wanna think about.

I say I want to be loved, but how can I be ready when I won’t even buy chairs that hold steady? I climb on my counters when I have to. It makes people laugh, it’s just something that you get used to. How can I say I’m ready for commitment when I can’t even think of my apartment as permanent? As I’m moving, I’m already thinking of the next place and the next, next place where I’ll be a resident.

I want things that I don’t understand. To feel loved and protected by a real man.

But now I don’t know how to feel all the way, it would be fun to fall in love but all of me’s too afraid. I am loving but I wanna be safe. I’m so tired of learning things the hard way.

And how am I supposed to feel about hearing the sound of my name when it seems like I attract poison like moths to a flame? I just wanna be wrong when I say nothing good can stay. It seems that I am on point, so much is still the same. How could I go to court, only to come out struggling the same way?

Do I run for my life because I’m scared? Or is running the only way I know how to be safe? Everybody tells me that it’s gonna be okay. My future is secure, I got it: what about today?