June 30, 2004
Intolerable Cruelity... Just a movie, right?I flopped around like a fish in a frying pan - not just out of my element, but in the most extreme circumstances, tortured for someone else's pleasure. I should not have allowed the situation to make me so damn angry, but I just couldn't shake it from my mind. How bewildering can one person be??! I can't even put this into words - how do I put THIS feeling into words? I'll have to direct them directly to the source...
Ya know what, Shane, I COULD have driven directly past LuLu's. I COULD have had another destination in mind that just HAPPENED to bring me past LuLu's - the place which I still cannot find without written directions. I suppose I COULD have been stupid enough to embark on such an escipade. I COULD have driven by and the mere sight of your car MIGHT have propelled my stomach to turn and so perhaps (especially after our horrible conversation Monday night) I was just trying to avoid you. It COULD have even crossed my mind that you WOULD be at LuLu's in the first place instead of at home in bed or at your scheduled MSF course. And all day today, I COULD have just let it go, knowing the truth and chalking it up to your paronia, pain, jealousy and day by day rage...
But that's not how things work. I don't have anyone else to run to, to seek out or to feel complete with. There is no one else that has such an entire hold over me or who grips my heart so wholly. I won't let anyone else in that far, Shane, and you still don't see it! That's the sad thing! I COULD have been doing just that! Getting over you, moving on, passing you by right before your very eyes and not looking back. I could have been so busy being LOVED by someone else that I just didn't have the TIME to answer your phone calls. I could have been trying to pretend that someone else glows so brightly in my eyes as your gorgeous face always does. I could have been allowing another's hands to mend the wounds that could never be healed by an external touch. I could have just gone back to work as though none of it mattered so very much.
DAMN YOU - I feel like such a fool. Spending all of my fucking time sitting right here in front of this very screen spilling my guts all about you because I cannot talk to you and the ONE day, since I can remember, that you really want to spend a night out with me, I'm too fucking tired to keep my eyes open. No one knows more about you than all of the people who spend ten minutes alone with me, for I cannot keep your name off my lips. I feel like such a fool because I have been here, night after night, hour after way past my bedtime hour, disclosing all sorts of tears, joy, anger, pride, frustration, love and confusion -- ALL FOR YOU -- and you've never attempted to trouble yourself with the act of knowing. You tell me you want to know and never give me the chance. You let me ramble on and on without hearing a word.
This is the ONLY way that I can take you home with me every night. This is the only way I can say how I feel and make all I have inside me seem meaningful. This is the only way that I can communicate everything I have and not get in the way of your real life. How could it be just a diary, of everyday things, of events retold, of feelings proclaimed without every other sentence referring to you??? You ARE my fucking life! Excuse the fact that I needed a break from this stupid life last night. I apolgized to you all day and I never knew what I was apologizing for! For sleeping??! For being unable to hear your phone calls? For hurting you... I somehow managed to hurt you when all you had to do was leave the fucking bar and cure your jealous notions by driving to my apartment. Sure, it's out of the way, it's a ways to go, it may have even seemed a little petty, but it would have been a hell of a lot fucking better than me going through all of this alone tonight without the slightest clue in the world as to why you don't believe me. Nothing seems quite so petty in wake of love, no distance seems too great in the eyes of relief and there is not an extra effort too strenuous for the sake of the woman you would do anything for...
Extra effort. Here I sit, still hurting, still bleeding, still the stream of tears drop hurriedly to my lap in an attempt to purge a moment of todays pain. But what of that? I smiled despite you, all day long, on the outside, while trudging along, dragging myself over the jagged rocks on the inside. Extra effort - in understanding, trusting, believing, hoping, smiling, caring, letting go and looking beyond yourself? Where the FUCK did all of that go? ALL GOD DAMN DAY you let me run back to fhe fucking warehouse to apologize, to make YOU feel better, to make YOU understand, to grasp your heart instead of your rage which is always at firm attention, to interupt MY work and print out a fragment of the words that I hold so dear that you have always passed by. Shake your head, Shane; shake your head in utter complacency, in total misunderstanding, in complete frustration, in absolute disregard and without patience. HEAR ME SCREAMING INSIDE and shake your head at me.
I realize that in the past all of this anger would amount to a broken picture, to a busted windshield, to a handful of sleeping pills, to a punched wall, to a screaming voice, to a drunk venture as I searched for your face, to a raging message (or twenty) left on your phone... But I'm starting, very, very slowly, to realize that all of those masochistic reactions were only to punish my inability to fully please you. To make you utterly happy, without question or doubt, without wonder or worry, without anger and without ever giving up. I'm starting to realize, very, very slowly, that it's not my fault if you don't believe me, if you give up, if you cannot look beyond your own desires, if you cannot be happy. Could anyone have tried so hard as me, Shane? Really? Could anyone have always been so completely there for you, ready for you and willing? I don't see how they could have in our situation and lasted a full year, seeking three years beyond. I have always told you that YOU are the one I want, that you are my heartbeat and the shivers that run up and down my spine. You are my Gorgeous lover, my whole life spread out before you, my hopes, my dreams - the person that I want to have hear my accomplishments, my glories, my questions, my fears, my trials and tribulations, my pain, my notions, my stupid little quirks or my most embarassing health issues. YOU ARE IT. I have not looked beyond you in four years. Yes, I admit that I got caught up in the lies of others who said they cared when I became so desperate to get over you - I admit I fucked up in my pursuit of letting you go to be with your wife and kids and I tried so hard to let you go when all you wanted to do was push me away and I hated every moment of it! It wasn't real, natural or inviting. It was just a niave and yearning heart reaching out desperately for the affection that you could not provide. For every time you've turned your head or looked away or moved out and moved on.
I know you could never read this without feeling the utmost anger, but it all came out just the same and I doubt, very much, that you'll read it anyhow.
So, congratulations. You have manged to engulf two and a half hours of my evening, not my understanding. But then again, how would you know? I COULD have just been with somebody else all night...