Category: Through the Looking Glass

Had you been in the car with us Sunday morning on the way home from gaming, you would have heard the following discussion, regarding Ryan’s prince albert piercing and hot tubs:

The Swede: I wonder what that would be like, in a hot tub. Would you bobble still?
Me: No, I think it would act like a weight.
The Swede: Oh! An anchor! He has a -4 water-wobble device!

Then you would have seen me nearly kill us as I laughed so hard I forgot to drive.

… it isn’t what she talks about it’s just the way she is…

I’m a solitary beast, and I’ve been feeling it lately. It’s not The Swede, or anyone elses fault. Just sometimes, I feel the need to run freely and without consequence, to do what I want when and without feeling weighed or tied. And for this very reason, I only seem to be able to tolerate being around other humans for short periods of time. I think the person with the longest tolerance time is Mars, at somewhere around three weeks. The Swede did well, he came in around 10 days or so. Jenna is a good solid 3 days, and most everyone else is just a few hours.

… happiness is never how you think it should be so…

I have, however, been feeling those 10 days. And this is of course to say absolutely nothing bad about The Swede. I know I’ve been short in what I say about him; mostly because I don’t really know what to say. He’s wonderful, and has been wonderful from the moment he got here. I’ve been laughing more than ever, and generally having a good time. Is it instant bliss, together forever and ever? Of course not – only movies are like that, and there have been rough spots simply because there will always be rough spots. But, for the most part, he’s warm and cuddly and kind, and I certainly don’t want him to leave.

Unless I’m in one of these moods, where an H-Bomb sounds like a good solution to all my anti-people feelings. It’s just needing Kellytime/creative time, and less around-people-every-second time.

… she saw the symptoms right away and spoke to me in poetry…

One thing I noticed this week was the intense need to create, both physical objects and poetry. (I need a studio, where I can get messy and not worry about it being in the way come morning.) I’m working on something new, something I would actually like to turn into lyrics, but it’s still In Progress. The most annoying thing was to have it come to mind right before the Duncan Sheik concert started, and having no pen to write on myself with. Still, the thought has managed to stay with me relatively well. I’ll post it when I’m done, and link to it.

I’ve been wanting to get more into three dimensional artwork, as well. I had the urge to buy a window (of all things) at Home Depot the other day, and distress/paint it. Why? No clue, but I figured it was probably something I could sell. I think I might try it (when I have a bit more in the finances department), and either see if I can sell it around here or (more likely) on eBay. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to support myself solely thru writing or artwork, but I might as well see what I can do, right? I’ll never find out if I don’t attempt…

… and she becomes so serious what she chose to offer you was all that you could have…

I’ve been thinking about polyamory a lot lately, partly because it’s been (sort of) in the news, and partly because I find myself in love with two men. It’s sort of funny, isn’t it, how things work themselves around in circles like that.

… (and she says) ooh darlin don’t you know…

This was originally posted on Squishy, in an area for letters unsent and things unsaid. As you can see, at this point people are all telling me the same thing.

I’m posting this here for posterity – someone suggested I keep all my “powerful” (his words, not mine) writing in one easily found area. I don’t know how I feel about being laid so raw to friends, although I apparently felt fine with strangers.

Dear NotYetEx,
It hurts, and I can’t deny it. It hurts knowing she’s in your bed. And I’m confused; why the hell haven’t you filed those papers? You’ve had them, signed, for over a month. I know you were gone, you went to see her (side trip of your new job, I know) and then were in Calif – but you live downtown, isn’t the courthouse nearby?

I miss you. Are you so sure about this? I’m not. I was hurt at you, but I really don’t think I am anymore. I miss you. I want to click with you again. I want to rest my head in its spot – we always fell together so easily, arms and legs and everything else. Your shoulder was my pillow, and perfectly so.

I miss your smell. I miss your wild foods and bad dinner ideas and crazy impromptu painting sessions.

I wish I could tell you all this, instead of being afraid of being rebuked.

Still your wife,
-K

… they say you can’t step in the same river twice well I’ve been stepping in this river seems like most of my life…

Woke up this morning tired, sore, and utterly happy. The Duncan Sheik show was incredible, absolutely amazing and much more than I could have ever hoped for. He was so much better in concert than on CD, which is a real treat (and oddity) in the era of studio bands.

And then I checked my eMail.

… they say even the weariest river in the end will find the sea but here among the cat tails all we discuss is breaking free…

From: Jenna *
Fwd: Hey

From: David G*
To: Jenna *
Sent: 5/16/01 9:11 PM
Subject: Hey

Since I don’t have her email address, would you let Kelly know I said “Happy Birthday.. no thank you necessary”.. I’d appreciate it.. I’m sure I’ll talk to her again some day.. it’s inevitable..
And by the way, I understand why you wouldn’t, but you didn’t mention Mars had left her.. I’m genuinely sorry to hear it.. that’s a hard pain..
-Dave

… so sharpen up those dragging hooks tie that sheep shank tight, cast into the water boys we’re dragging for lost souls tonight…

I don’t know if I can really express my reaction. I don’t know that I can accurately describe the fear, terror and other emotions that flooded through me. I’m going to try. I owe it to everyone who had to deal with me today.

I generally know better than to answer eMail when I’m angry/tired/hurt/etc; unfortunately, I forgot that lesson this morning, and Jenna received a good amount of the galewind explosion of emotion. For this, Jenna, once again I sincerely apologize. And perhaps I didn’t tell you, but thank you. It made me aware of … well, I’ll finish that thought in a moment.

My first response is “jesus christ, I’ve not spoken to this guy in four years and he still thinks about me?” Get over it does not even begin to express the depth of that emotion. Sure, I certainly still think about people I knew from back when, but I don’t make an effort to contact them, let alone have their best friend tell them I said happy birthday, and it’s inevitable I’ll talk to them again.

As for that whole inevitable thing. My response here was interesting. Besides the obvious “hell no”, of course, there was the response of sheer terror. I didn’t fully, consciously realize that this person is the one person who makes me fear for my life. He’s still convinced he will see me after I’ve said nothing to him in so long? I don’t want him to find me, contact me, or anything else. I have no good thoughts, no good memories, and I’m afraid that should he appear on my doorstep, he would not take no for an answer. I don’t think he would. And I feel like it would be my death.

I’ve never felt like this before. I don’t like it. ‘Back when’ dying didn’t bother me too much. I gave it a go once or twice, and the thought of being murdered scared me in the short term but actually seemed like it would be a relief in the long term. But nowdays, nowdays I like my life. I like where things are going, and am enjoying the wandering path I am on.

I don’t want him back in my life.

Unfortunately, what I’ve taken as a simply stated threat is not enough to get a restraining order or anything else up against him. I’ll just have to hope, for now, that he stays in California, and watch my back a little more. Be more careful at night. I know it sounds paranoid, but it’s how I feel. Like I am in danger. I’ve even gone so far as to set up a safe house with friends. I don’t think it will be necessary right now (hopefully never), but I still wanted a place I could run to if I needed to. If he did show up.

As well, now you all bear witness to my fear. As to the rest of his letter, I don’t know how he found out and I don’t really care. I’m not going to dignify it with a response.

* Edited on May 22. I’m a huge privacy advocate, and here I go posting peoples last names on my site. Yeeesh.

I woke this morning to The Swede, bouncing up the stairs and singing in Swedish. I’m going to assume it was “Happy Birthday” but it had the exact same rythem as/sounded just like:

Oh my darlin, oh my darlin, oh my daaaaaaarlin Clementine
You were lost and gone forever
Dreadful sorry, Clementine

Disconcerting, to say the least.