all beauty is cruel

here's what it is.

now that ive drugged myself into some numb stupor i'm giving you the benefit of advance warning, as i always do, so that you can come prepared with your explanations. don't know why i do this. i just cant help spilling i suppose. to you. to other people, i manage to keep my mouth relatively shut, examples as follows:

today i was talking to a person, about people in hollywood talking about movies, and said something about "the place next door to my shrink". this person said, "oh you go to a therapist next door?" i said "well yeah i go to therapist but i meant this coffee place there not next door to here" and they said "oh cuz im looking for one close by" i said "oh well its pretty close its down near broad street in ridgeway" and they said "oh, do you see julian darcy?" and i said, "yeah!" and they said "oh i went to him for a while!" and i said oh yeah, he's great, and they said yeah, he's very intelligent and he's beautiful, and i of course agreed, enthusiastically, and i said yeah i'm sort of head over for him-- keeping it really light-- and they said, aw, really? and i said OH yeah. and they said well stop seeing him as a therapist and date him! and i said yeah right he's married with children. again, this was all very light. the person said, he's not married. i said yeah, he is, the person said, no, i asked him, he said he was like single... unless it was in the last, like, couple years...

i said- out of some (perhaps unwarranted) loyalty and respect for you-- oh yeah it was really recently he had a child. and they said oh ok, so he met someone and got married wow.

so that was that. you can imagine julian. how i must feel right now. out of some loyalty and respect for you, and characteristic disrespect for myself, i'm telling myself you told me this, to try to get me to get over you. instead of just telling me whatever the truth is. or maybe you tell other people, you don't tell them about your family, to protect them? but it seems a little extreme. this person is not tony soprano, or a serial killer.

why would you lie to me about this? why would... it's really very insulting if you did that. it's really, really insulting. it's condescending. you really think it was something to protect my feelings or help me some how? that you would have to lie to me? how can i trust you now? what are you doing, what are you thinking, what's going on in that head of yours. i don't know you at all. i don't know who you are.

even before this totally random (and yet formally perfect, as in the PERFECT FUCKING SHAPE) i started thinking, i really can't be your patient anymore. i can't do it. i love you, and i want you, and i don't want you to pretend to be this objective witness/soundingboard/hotline anymore, and i dont, deep down, believe that it's completely one-sided, it just does not feel that way, and there are so many innuendos and so much subtext and when i tell you that and you just blatantly look me in the eye and deny that, it is insulting, and it is reckless, and it is hurtful. and i cant see it as excusable unless you have some EMOTION toward me too. if you dont, and you are completely coolly and carelessly toying with my head because you find it amusing, unaware of the hurt you will ultimately cause, you are a selfish and thoughtless person and everything i thought about you is wrong.

but i realized, a litte ways into this little vacation of yours, that i cannot see you as a therapist. it reduces my life to two hours a week. that i'm paying money for. and not getting anything in return. it feels like i am, but i'm not. you have helped me with things, you really did for a while, and for a while it's just been me wanting to see you, because i dont want to lose you. because im so afraid of losing you. but i cant go on like this.

if you really as you say just have no interest in knowing me, outside of that room, then i guess i will have to swallow that fucking bullet, better now than later. better now than later. my life is on standstill.

you know. you've probably known for a while, how hard and far i have FALLEN for you. maybe you dont. maybe you think i'm also just playing around like you are. for some distraction.

I DONT KNOW.

I DONT KNOW WHAT YOUR FUCKING STORY IS JULIAN

but you better explain it to me. if you have any shred of decency, or respect for me, or compassion, you better explain it to me, and you better not lie to my face-- if you were lying about your marriage, or your family, just tell me flat out, give me your reasons, i will accept them, you know, i think so highly of you, i adore you, and at least i thought i understood you, so i really will understand-- and if you just thought it would hurt my feelings to say you aren't attracted to me or interested in me then SAY IT.

god, i am not stupid. i am not stupid. i notice the caution you've used with your words. i know there are certain things you cannot say. i know when you're being ambiguous. i know there are certain things you HAVENT said. and there are certain 6th sense sort of visions " " (yeah i'm a fucking crazy moron, shoot me, and fuck yourself) i have about you- your personal life- your family situation. and at the risk of sounding HAUGHTY to use your word, or narcissistic, i mean WHAT A FUCKING FOOL, how i PUT MYSELF on the fucking LEDGE for you??? how much i have been a FOOL over you, for you, risked every shred of dignity for you??? and this is how, rather, this is how you DONT reciprocate?

so i am NOT a narcissist. i know i have HUMILITY. and i used to have GRACE. and now i don't know WHERE that's gone. but at the risk of sounding narcissistic, i KNOW you are attracted to me, i know you LET me know that, i know at one point you didnt, and then you did, and then you didnt, and there are unsaid understandings between us, and normally when i mention them in the emails, the next time i see you you act like a complete cold, distant asshole, as if to rid me of any confidence i have that there's ANYTHING mutual, and i'm SICK of it. i've had just about enough. i KNOW that i play these games with you, and i KNOW that you play them with me. and i know that youve never done or said anything- because youre very clever- that could ever definitely, without a doubt, make me sure. and fuck, i'll be honest, it's hot, i admire, and am extremely turned on, by how clever you are. and the fact that every time i go out on a limb like this, i have to think, god, if i'm wrong, i am SUCH an asshole, and god, of course i'm wrong, and god, i am SUCH an asshole, and then I START BEATING MYSELF TO A BLOODY PULP over it, how delusional, and stupid, and unattractive, and ridiculous i am.

IS THAT WHAT YOU FUCKING WANT

you're not stupid either. you play dumb sometimes dont you. you cant tell me, that you do not know, the effect you have on me, the provocative things you say, all the teases, all the teases, my god, even as im furious crying typing this tome, writing that-- "teases", thinking about your TEASING, makes me fucking just (@)*#$ need to take a break with a curling iron and a cold shower-- i really-- i need to stop writing right now.

you know

ok

so the only thing i cant figure out. the only thing i really dont know. is your motivation.

are you just, going along for kicks. teasing me to spice things up for yourself and keep me hanging all over you. careless and thoughtless as to how it will end? just not thinking that far ahead?

if i leave, will you care, if i leave, which i will, if i leave you as a patient will you leave me as a person. if i stop paying you. is it over. this great connection. is it all just fucking over. fucking over. will you never %$*@ me into sanity. i need it. but whatever. you dont like that, you dont like that kind of talk, i dont either, but by god, at this point. by fucking god.

and theres only a certain amount of ignorance you can plausibly plead. because you do know me, even if i know nothing of you. you know my obsessive brain. you know that i've thought this through. you know that i've considered that maybe, i just need the confidence to walk out your fucking door, in order to be in your life. and that im also terribly afraid that walking out your door is walking out of your life. because that is the implication, isnt it. "but this IS therapy, that's what this IS" you said once. yeah. but ive thought that. and i want it. whatever it means. whether it means, once, or twice, or just meeting you for a coffee at some dumpy dingy place where no one will see us or walking down Central Park South with my arm around your waist, whether it means hanging around waiting for you the way i am right now, with the same strict, minimal schedule, or not, i want it, i want it, i want YOU, i dont want to be sitting at a distance and FUCKING PAYING YOU like the idiots at the CLUB pay ME to talk to to me for 20 minutes. and that despite everything you said, oh forget it. forget it.

and you? haven't thought this out at all? or do you think you know me so well by now that you know i can take all your careless playing and still be fine, take another huge disappointment, take being carved in half and walk upright. and no, dear, no. you are NOT, you are NOT helping me find a future relationship. you are NOT, showing me what it CAN be like for next time. because there will never be this again. there is no other you, there is no other now, there is no next time, there is no fucking tuesday.

and furthermore, after experiencing, YOU, experiencing, our conversations, our connection, and haven't end in the worst fucking pain, the blinding fucking pain of right now, I don't think I will want anything like it. i think after being built up and torn down by you, being made to believe for CERTAIN that i'm delusional, seeing the angel become the devil before my eyes, seeing that,
all beauty is cruel
all beauty is cruel
all beauty is cruel

that's what i will KNOW in my body to be true, if i walk out your door as you nod and say nothing, and nothing, and nothing to me ever again

and MAYBE you told me your story------- now maybe you told me your story to prepare me for being so hurt that i will call down the quarters and the guardians of the watchtowers and invoke the spirit and wish upon the universe to bring you harm.

maybe you wanted me to know thats how this will end.

but it wont julian. i dont think it will end right now at all. i really dont in my heart of hearts believe it.

and if it does, i will walkaround jawdropped at your cruelty, but i will understand, because i'm sure i have been unintentionally cruel. i know i have. and i know im forgiven because to them i am beautiful, and that seems to be enough. and to me you are beautiful, and that seems to be enough. and i will never wish you harm. every moment of every day i wish nothing but good for you and you should KNOW that and you should FEEL that and you should be THANKFUL for that. because i also know how to destroy. but i do not destroy people, everyone whom i have hurt somehow has come out stronger, and the only person i destroy is myself. and you saw that very early on. and it's sad to me and i want to be kind to myself like you told me to. and you told me to be kind to myself. and i will always love you. and you have taught me a lot. and i know that my love for you is beautiful, and that its mine, and you cant take it away from me. but perhaps all this teaching has caused the soul to learn away a lot of its joy.


maybe when i see you on friday you will stonewall me, mock me, lie to me, slap me in the face. and maybe i will lock eyes with you and melt, melt in your radiance, but i will solidify I HAVE HAD JUST ABOUT ENOUGH and Julian, WE WILL TALK ABOUT THIS. and i am not asking you for anything. you say, whatever the fuck you want to say. you always do anyway.

so now are you starting to see the shapes? are you starting to see the shape of things to come? the way they always fit so perfectly right? you were away and i was alone and i was sad and sad and sad and i was excited for you to come back and you would have come back and WHAT. i would have sat there, blushing and giggling and crying as you teased me or ignored me or shared just enough of yourself to wake my sleeping heart? no. no, no, that would be shapeless. that would be utterly lacking in form. to walk, two days before your return, into a relative stranger and find out that maybe-- to be jolted awake by that instead?

that's formal.

that's shapely.

whatever you do you know that you are the only person i've ever been able to share this with, and that without that, without you, without you, without you now, here, out here, out here after having that and after, right after, right after the last time i saw you i thought i have shared it all with someone now---and he glows gold onto every corner of my mind and i...

do you see colors julian

tell me

tell me when you see me please

if im still red and white and violet

if i still glow at all

blablablablabla

ok
this stupid see-saw is almost totally broken and i'm about to fall off for real

fall off the couch

i'm done with this

done with this delusion

i hate him

i scraped my knee on the splintery wood

i'm getting nauseous

i'll probably keep swinging for a while but i really shouldnt

Hot, Hot Summer

It's so hot. Really it's not even hot, it's just the sun through my windows of my clean, clean apartment. In the horizon of the clear blue. Like a sneaky keyhole to hell.

It's so clean. The cleaning ladies came yesterday and they did a fantastic job. Word from the wise, to the wise, or others: Get a cleaning lady. A filthy apartment is a depressive agent, and one's own apartment is inscrutably difficult to clean... I personally find myself repeatedly and frequently distracted by every object with which I come in contact. Oh-- this old thing! Oh-- I should alphabetize these! Oh-- I haven't read this in months! Do I need this? And cetera. I wouldn't even know where to begin. And so easily remedied this problem. One of the best investments one could make. So. It's sparkling clean. It makes me feel better.

And I didn't even have to store Madeline anywhere... The women that came yesterday were cool and pretty and they did awesome. The ones I got the last time sucked. I'D done better. But yeah.

Sigh. I'm reading my favorite book again. Of course I forgot how good it was... It's over a grand pp long... I'm tired and...

School's almost over... I'm probably gonna do pretty well... It's COMMUNITY COLLEGE and I only took two classes so it's kinda like I better do well... But still, it was hard to manage, caused all this stress and... It's still an accomplishment... Just to get it done with... I kinda doubted I could, and they were valid concerns because it's quite possible I won't finish even these two classes and if I do it'll be by the skin of my teeth, so I'll be satisfied.

I have a cool gig. It's a movie. I'll be playing a stripper. Heh. Small thing, but... still... I know a lot of people wanna do this kind of stuff so it's hard to get these gigs.

I always think of the years starting and ending in June, because that's when school was over... So I'm looking back on this year like, What?

I don't know what to make of it.

I have nothing to say for myself. My coffee in the heat. Not steaming or cooling.

Warning: Freeway ends in 15 miles.

Don't worry. Game over. If you can't end it, I can end it. The screen really is broken. I'm fucked up, my heart is broken, it really is your fault, it's not your fault, who cares. Who cares. I don't need you, I don't need anyone, I don't have anyone, I have my books and something to type on and pills to take and a plot to fill somewhere in Pennsyltucky.

I was a nice diversion for you-- you helped me, I'm not saying you didn't, I don't want to be hurtful, though I'm your patient and I can't possibly hurt you because I'm just this little rusted wind-up toy that you can fix or fail to fix, or very easily break if you're careless.

You have all the things you want or need to make a full, perfect life, and sometimes that gets boring doesn't it, and isn't it kinda cool to have the weird girl like you and doesn't it kinda remind you how special you are? And you've taken all the necessary precautions to excuse yourself from any liability. You've said very clearly that you don't want her. Kind of anyway. You're not liable. So you can, enjoy each others company, enjoy her adoration, and the stubborn wishes hiding behind recollections of the preceding days.

Now you're saying you have no feeling, except intellectual connection, and it's a blatant contradiction, but you've been very careful with your words, so you ask me to give you specifics, and I'm at a loss.

And today you brought up my expectation, that if there's an attraction, even if it's mutual-- "which it- which... which I don't think is the case here," it must be acted upon, said it's something that we should look at, thus implying that said expectation is, stems from something unhealthy, could be damaging, is unrealistic. And I understand that you are married, and have a family, and have probably felt attracted and connected with other people (though I know, not in this case) before and it has been mutual and though you would never act on it you could both appreciate it for what it was, and see the value and the beauty in just that. You have about twelve personalities after all, I'm sure some of them relate to different people.

But, I am not. And for me, to be, as you say, infatuated, with someone for, what is it now, October November December January February March April and, get in line, May, the better part of a year, is different than a little diversion is for you. And I am not calling our relationship a little diversion, and I know it's not just that to you, and I know that you genuinely care, but on some level, that's what it is. Right?

Though I can appreciate it as that. I can see the value and the beauty in it. I can. It's just that right now, it ISN'T that. To me. Right now. And you know it.

And then you compare my feelings for you, to your feelings for this woman, that you were going to MARRY, that left you for the wrong reasons... Right? It's just a strange comparison to make, in light of the situation. It's just not the comparison, not the comparison that would paint my position into the corner it's in. It's not the comparison about being infatuated, not in love, but infatuated, with someone who never had any interest in you, with whom you ultimately fostered a healthy, platonic, mutually beneficial and beautiful non-physical relationship. THAT would be the appropriate comparison. Wouldn't it. Not the love of your life. That you never spoke to again. Which makes me think that maybe you just wanted to talk about it with someone who would understand. And I'm honored to be that person to you. And maybe I'm just reading way too much into it, but you're casting yourself as the person who left for the wrong reasons. Telling someone about a broken heart is one very good way to secure your place in theirs.

So it makes me think, you want to be here, you want to be here for me, you want to help me, you know I have to get over you, you don't really know how to facilitate that beyond what you've said already, so though you're aware on some level that you're just drawing me in, you can't stop it, and you are just waiting for me to reach my breaking point and leave, and maybe come back, and maybe not, and I'm drawing you in too, but you like it, and you're sick of it, but you like seeing me, and you're just not really doing anything and you are busy and busier and the more stressed you are the more your mind wanders to a ranch in Arizona or a spaceship cruising through the stratosphere, or being a priest like you thought about when you were a little kid. Or all the fantasies and follies you could have fostered (by the way I'm sure your writing would have been really good, if you tried it, somewhere other than your psychology papers) and all the doors you've had to shut as you merged into different lanes, down different highways, speeding here, gridlocked there, too pressed for time and concerned over the squabbling in the backseat to pause and listen to the radio and look out the window and see that the clouds are casting giant glorious shadows over the yellow yellow grass stretched before you heading North, into the mountains, that road stretches endlessly you know, it stretches up latitudes into farms, slopes, Bay area freaks, the Yakima valley, Washington wineries, places where it always rains, places where there's always sun, 22 hours a day in the summer, places made of snow, places so beautiful they'll make you cry before you die freezing, jawdropped forever, marveling at the world God made for us to live in. You can't just take off and head up there now can you.

I can though. And I will. And I'll be on that road alone one of these days, radio on, no one squabbling in the backseat. I'll tell you how it is.

I'll write you all about it.

Love

S

The Tipping Point

Okay folks. Here it is. We're at the peak. We're coming to climax. Aboard the Scarlet-on-the-Couch Ride here at Magic Motors Theme Spark. It's been a bumpy ride. And it's not over. No, ladies and gentleman, it ain't over til' it's over, and even then it ain't ever over. It's a path not a point. But we have come to a point. Where it's time to get a little serious now.

Time to get a little serious.

TO: Julian
FROM: Scarlet

its so hard to tell you things when.. ive spent so much time trying to convince myself of these other things do you know what i mean?? because of things you've said and because of... just, not wanting to be rejected... but, its crazy. hah. THATS whats crazy. trying to tell myself im crazy. is crazy. i need to talk to you like asap. ok. im done being vague and scared and i DONT know whats going on but im done not-asking you, and im done not-saying what i think, and what i feel, and what i want, in person instead of just in these emails... its just like you know i have no other way to reach you... so yeah call me when you can... ok... thank you julian....

night. unless you're still up. and talk to you tomorrow? ok ok.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ok, no more bullshit Scar, really. Buck up. It's time to get it going.

Going nowhere.

Right now I think I have to just end it. Maybe he doesn't want me to leave and it will really hurt him, and hey, maybe it's just in my head. Nope. Not if it's bad. Bad things are never just in my head.

I don't want to be cruel. But he can't give me anything. Not as a therapist anymore. Not as a man... And it's not going to be the same. I'm not going to be happy to see him. He's going to have his baby and he'll be stressed out and overit. We're not going to have fun conversations and jokes, and flirting now... So he wouldn't want me there either.

Because honestly? There's nothing left to say.

It was like an affair. And one thing's the same about all affairs. They can't go anywhere.

Not undermining how he's helped me, saved me from drowning, given me so much light and inspiration and I guess... I don't want to think about it now.

I'm numb.

Scarlet off the couch.

Well, now's your turn to say "I told you so."

J: You look pensive.

S: Don't I always look pensive?

J: Sometimes. Is that a denial?

S: (laughs) No.

J: What are you pensive about?

S: (long pause) I am pensive about my feelings.

J: (laughs after long pause) Go on...

S: (laughs) Yes. My feelings about you. That's what I'm pensive about.

J: (long pause) What's the thought process about the feelings? Well, not the feelings, I think I know the feelings, you write about them... What's the meta-thought process?

S: I'm conflicted, on the one hand, they feel really good sometimes... And then usually followed by pain and frustration. The conflict between the bliss of loving someone and the hell of wanting something you can't--

J: Something impossible.

S: Right. Impossible.

J: When we first started talking about this--

S: I know. I know what you said. But somehow I deluded myself again. People have convinced themselves of cra3ier shit.

J: When we first started talking about this. I felt kind of panicked. Well, panicked, maybe isn't the right word but... I was anxious to resolve the...

S: Awkwardness?

J: You're not deluded. I've thought about this a lot too... and I... wanted to say that I have very strong feelings for you too. I think I should be open about that with you. It's not like I'm blind to how beautiful you are. I think our brains are a lot alike. I think you're like me, with talent. I mean I was never able to play music, or write creatively... I tried in my psychology papers but it was always very logical, philosophical arguments... I don't have the ability to make these sentences... that are like... creative. Like that one. (laughs) So, you're not deluded, and you're not imagining this connection. And under different circumstances I... And it's really important to me, to be a part of your life, it means a lot to me that I'm important in your life. But it just can't be reciprocated.

S: Uh huh.

J: Do you want to move on?

S: Yes.

J: I think I can tell you something about myself, that will help you move on. Demystify my life a little. Can I?

S: By all means.

J: I know you know that I have kids. You've never asked about them.

S: I haven't felt comfortable.

J: I have two daughters. And I'm expecting a third.

THE MOTHERFUCKER.

I said Congratulations. I asked how old his daughters were. I started crying uncontrollably, making jokes here and there. He was watching me. He said he really hates hurting me this much. I said I hate everything and want to die. And laughed. So did he. I kept making jokes about "go-time." He laughed, "Ha, go-time." I said I have a photoshoot after this for some sunglasses and I can't go. And I don't want to get into my car. Or drive. Or go home. And I said I'm angry. With you. Tell me. He said. I think you should have addressed this sooner. When you know, as you said, palpably felt the intensity of my feelings. That's fair. And you're probably right, I just, felt like I hammered you last time. I wanted to wait until- Well apparently i needed to be hammered some more.

I threw my checkbook at him. Here. I said. What do I owe you. I think we should figure this out on Tuesday... I think we should do it NOW. I... I'll need to figure out what it would be... It's go-time now huh. Yes. Got it. I stormed passed him open the door myself and and didnt close it behind me and walked the fuck out of there.

This really might be the end...

End of the story, end of this wrought-out romance unrequited, end of my therapy, end of my blog maybe...

I really do apologi3e for not blogging and not reading lately... I haven't been by a computer, I've been so stressed out and busy and depressed too and... Feeling really dull too, like I can't and don't have any urging to make any poetry or make anything interesting out of the dulldrom of my life, and like writing about it would only depress me further...

I haven't been up to much, to catch on, hanging with Jo, on those trips, which were nothing exciting, working at the club, trying to do homework and work out, and play a little when I can, disappointing dates...

I did go to a reading by my favorite author, who I've written to, back and forth, a few times, about his books, the only real literature I've read in over a year... His most recent book, the one he was reading from but that I read 6 months ago the day it came out in hardcover, is one of those life imitates informs and synchroni3es with art and back... to me... inspired some of the names I use in my songs and stuff... he remembered me and we talked it, and it's about a singer my age and he wanted to hear my music...

But here's what's up.

I went to see Julian today. And my insurance denied the coverage for twice weekly sessions. I knew they would. I really did.

So. I'm behind on the payment for the sessions they didn't cover... And the ones they will cover, would make it balance out... and he gave me some options to appeal it again... but he was shocked they denied it, and said they never have before because they're changing their policy... so he doesn't know if they'll deny it again... He offered some ways to make up for the payments and get around it and discount and that he thinks I should continue twice a week, and I was just so stunned, but not, in a way... And he asked me to let him know by tomorrow if I want to come in on Friday... and I wrote him again... and I just don't know what to do... I told him I need to talk to him and that I understand that he probably can't before tomorrow so I'll keep it and we'll figure it out on Friday. But. Maybe this is just a sign. I don't know what to do. I really don't. With anything. With anything.

Blue-hoo.

So I got through all the unwarranted stress of this week... I'm just depressed. I feel like a part of me was cut out with a knife, and there's a hole now.

I started writing Julian last night, a long old e-mail. And I just didn't send it.

You're right Kat hot men are just always flirty. And I'm just another person he's just naturally flirty with. And that's it. And it makes me really sad. That's all.

I gotta catch up on reading and writing and a whole buncha stuff... but I'm cold here at the cafe so I'm gonna run home right now. I will soon.

The final flirt.

I'm actually getting upset again thinking about tomorrow, and how I'll feel after tomorrow... Not because I'll feel worse about anything, but just because I won't feel better enough, and I'll have four days to deal with... And I feel kind of horrible, and not-okay morally even-- throwing myself at him like that and telling him I wanted to "tremble and scream in [his] Jag"... Which, omg, IS his car... Tuesday, before he told me he was not interested, that he would never, that I was dreaming, he had to admit I was right about the uncanny things I end up being right about, that I don't even give a second thought.... (and that are NEVER of any consequence either.)...

"God... I'm.. Sorry about that letter... That's totally not even your--"

"It's my car."

"Oh!" I laughed. "Obviously... It's so obvious."

"Right. ...I hate having a spot in front of the building; everyone in this neighborhood needs like, a Prius..."

"Its a hot car; I've been admiring it for ages, I knew it was yours..."

He shifted in his seat.

"So was I right about the birthday too?" I asked, half-joking.

"Oh, well, what did you give yourself there, a 5-month, 4-month range?"

"Well yeah, I said I'd wanna tack on August, but I really only-"

"-ANYWAY!" he said, actually cutting me OFF to change the subject. Wow. Obviously I nailed it.

June or July...

But what does it matter. My beautiful Julian. No more flirting. I was so wrong about so much for so long. And I still.

Love.

Him.

And THIS is what I let Julian know:

Short one here!

Just, about tomorrow- I know you were in an awkward spot trying to be sensitive to my feelings and yet needing to say what you have to say and I just want you to know that it's understood. I understand why those feelings are, different, in therapy, and need to be dealt with, and I'm dealing. I'm overit. Heh. I understand why it is a fantasy, not because it's distorted or anything transferred or any of that, but just because it can never happen. So it's a fantasy... all those dreams and all that stuff, fantasy, my narrative about you in my head, that has nothing to do with you, or your life, there are 99 ways in which I know nothing about you. And I understand why you feel that might be beneficial or even essential to therapy, and I respect that and trust it. I don't need to know, I realize it's a fantasy, fantasies are nice, in fantasies people don't hog the bed, or forget to call, or call too much, or need you too much, or put you on a pedestal, or put you down, or pick arguments about nothing that are all about one thing that can never be fixed, or try to sound casual when they ask who just called, or yell at you for talking to someone or for never being there or because it costs too much, or ignore you all night, or hurt you, or hurt themselves, or leave.

But. I don't let them consume me.. or interfere with my life. I don't live in a fantasy. So. I'm present, in reality. K.

Til Tuesday, 12 hours, gonna burn rubber from that school and get there no later than 12 04. 12 07. Yeah, 12 07.