The Emotional Whore

Do you realize that you just grasped at me when I was about to fall over the cliff?? I had a horrible feeling last night, I was so incredibly depressed. Death would have been painless to me. I pretty much just closed the book on us. All I could do was ride it out and then later attempt to fall asleep.

Anyways, I did wake up the next day.

And you emailed me back from that horrible message.

Please understand that drinking won't fix it for him... It won't 'loosen him up". Well, it may 'loosen his inhibitions'... but you may be really scared of what comes up from that particular binge. Also, It won't fix it for you, either. Drinking fixes absolutely nothing at all, believe me, I know. Maybe ask your Dad about that. There has to be something there within someone to begin with. You need something to work with. You cannot squeeze water from a rock. Sorry to say, I'm not sure quite what the hell you are actually looking for. You may have an idea in your mind when you look at J... that perfect idea really does not exist all in one person. You have to make compromises with people. You are not looking at the feeling, you are looking at your sense of safety and security. So let's say you have that perfect sense of safety and security.... What happens when you don't have the love???? What happens when you just feel horrible because that person just isn't really there? I'm so sorry.

Do you understand the blankness empty I was talking about? The fact that you would go to great lengths to change yourself and him into that great idea and that you would give up all of those great things... You would compromise love for the idea that you are scared and cannot live by yourself? OMG you kill me again and again. And again. And again.

Honestly your reflections in that brief message about Elijah really scare me. Of course J has been taking a part in Elijah's upbringing, but for you to say that you don't like the direction that is taking is really scaring me pretty badly... "My kid is fine with out you. He will be mine, he is slipping away from me--into sports and not the art of life. How was I stupid enough to let you steal him away from me along with my SELF. You sickafant." Sycophant. Psychophant. (my own alliteration)

Damn you... You think like me. You have always thought like me. I feel the same way about life and experiences... but that's a side discussion... what we have here is.....

Well. Let's draw things out a bit. You obviously let J take care of E fairly frequently during the day... What exactly did you expect? Did you expect E to look at famous artwork and think about awesome sociological theories all day? Did you really think that it would be any different? Did you? Choose.

Landmark Forum
This should have been a HUGE problem for you. You don't even understand how disappointed I am in this turn of events. But you wanted the easy way out to your life's problems. Who can tell you how to live your life? To me this is tantamount to just giving the fuck up. AM I WRONG??? I mean, if they call all the shots and make all of the decisions, who is running your life? WHO is really? You say you're the creative and he is not.... Well, this Landmark shit is the antithesis of creativity, isn't it? It does not give you any choice in the matter. It feels like a choice but in the end it's not really anything but someone telling you how to live. That's pretty fucking lame and gives you no free will in the decision making process of your life! Sure it may be easier, but who do you really end up as later? Who cares!! They've got their fucking money, what the fuck do you matter? You fucking don't matter at all... Please pay at the window!!!! Damn you are so trusting.

WTF Angela. Why are you telling me about any of this if you are 'finished' with me and our 'relationship has run it's course'. Tell me why. Why tell me why? Tell me why you cried on the phone so badly on March 13, WHY?? You never looked too far, did you? Do you really know? I did... I certainly did. I do. I do right now. This has certainly not run it's course and I'm still around. Where are you?

Don't fucking tell me you have changed your mind and it's all better. Gee, where have I heard that before?? Fuck. It's going to happen to me again, isn't it? I don't even trust this situation, it changes on a dime with you. Who can I trust if I can't trust you? You know what?? I can't trust you. If you are not here for me, what are you here for? Using me again and again for my profound wisdom that cannot actually be taught. You faker, you. Good luck in living. :(

There's no doubt that we all have some learning to do, but where's the love that makes it all worthwhile?? Where is it? It's certainly fleeting... flying this way and that. At this point it's just a tiny wisp of nothing.

I still remember the last time we saw each other... You could not stop hugging me. What was that? You were drunk. You said it felt like home again. Explain this please. Explain not for me, but for you. You need to understand. Me? I certainly know how I feel. I've known for years. I am here. I never left even though I wanted to so badly. I was so close Damn it. Denied.

Denied the freedom.

But then again I look at you and your persona.. what you have done... and I have huge doubts. I just know I will be crushed again. Goodbye forever is most likely the safer choice, isn't it?

I wonder why you fight so hard.

I want to see Elijah.
I still have your presents.

5:15am ZzZzZz.

Email 9.19.08

You are the only one that understands what I'm going through, no reply is needed, but input is appriciated. I just want someone to know. I'm also pretty drunk after 2 beers.

Here you go.

Why the marriage? What is the point? It's so absolute and life is not.
It's not so absolute.

How appropriate that you would call during "Ampersand." I really don't want to live my live on one side of an ampersand. I want to be me. I'm slipping away in your June Cleaver world. Fuck that. I'm so unhappy. You fuck like a robot. Where is your passion in life. What is your art? The art of football and paramedicine? That's not art. That's robotics. We need to drink. You fucking need a DRINK. Maybe your robot ass would calm down, maybe, just maybe, you might feel the passion life has to offer. But beer is the passion of the devil. I'm not going to slip away into your purist world. Go back to your 17 year-old whore. I have MEN to fuck. Many passionate and complicated men.

Our wedding will be a funeral procession. I should show up in my black dress escorted by a herst with my bouquet of black roses. This is not me. I want to break free I'm bigger than you. I'm bigger than my small body will allow. Fuck the system. I'm me. Let me be me! I'm dark, drunk, powerful, passionate, anachronistic, artistic in eating and feeding. My kid is fine with out you. He will be mine, he is slipping away from me--into sports and not the art of life. How was I stupid enough to let you steal him away from me along with my SELF. You sickafant. Never mind
you are too robotic for any sort of fandom, except for your football.

I am me. Set me free.




Yeah, I don't want any told you so. Thanks for listening. I know no matter how much you tell me to fuck off, you still love me.

Goodbyes are hard

My Dad passed away early friday morning, July 11 2008, just past midnight.

I walked outside on the porch and looked at the red moon deep on the horizon, setting.
He had been unconscious for about a week before he passed away, we tried to give him the comfort he deserved.

For a few days it seemed like he knew I was there. I had been staying up to watch him if he woke up, I was listening and watching. Finally I became too exhausted and I had to sleep. It was like he was waiting for me to leave the room so he could finally pass away. Sad that thought.

It does seem like I never got to say goodbye.

Goodbye, Dad.