Eccentric Flower:199901/consolation
From Eccentric Flower
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six january consolation I just discarded an old paper journal, the closest I ever came to keeping an actual diary. I kept it for some years, but never made more than one or two entries a year in it. (It took the web to make the process interesting and spontaneous enough.) The diary is a fascinating mess, since it only has the day and month in the corner of each page - no year. And I didn't put years on the entries. So if there's something written on the 16 January page, I know what day of the year I wrote it, but may not know when. The book is mostly empty and very few of the entries are worth keeping. I copied a couple of road trip entries, during the crucial period in my life when I was leaving Louisiana and seeing New England for the first time. I want to remember those. You can read them if you like, but they're really only of interest to me and maybe a few people very close to me. Caveat emptor. There's only one other entry in the entire book I'm attached to, and I'm appending it here, exactly as I wrote it (save the omitted name), roughly ten years ago.
22 November. IT is just barely the 22nd. It's 3 am and I'm cold and I can't sleep. I spent the evening with ___ - she asked me the 2nd time, a little more strongly, if I wanted to go to bed with her. "It would be good for you" is the way she put it more or less. Well, certainly I can think of worse people than ___ for the first, but even so - I've been lying awake, trying to imagine myself kissing her. You know, kissing is the hardest part for me to picture? I can't imagine having sex with someone without kissing them - and I can't imagine kissing someone (in a non-platonic fashion) that I'm not in love with. Can it be that simple? Is that one source of the problems? AS usual, being paranoid, I feel like I made a fool of myself tonight, in the usual and accepted manner, by turns being a) pedantic b) whiny c) stupid. "Naive" equates to "stupid" here. Why, why, why do I alternate between rigid silence and spilling my guts on the floor every time I open my mouth? I know ___ is sick of it all by now. I'M probably going to do it. Every time I come up with another good reason not to, it turns out to be another defense mechanism designed to keep me from being vulnerable. I've stopped telling myself "you can't hide for the rest of your life." I've learned that I can. The fact that I am occasionally in a state of mind to consider just retreating inside this "I fear and hate the world" shell should be scary enough to jolt me into a less sociopathic mode of thought all by itself. I can hide from everything, but I shouldn't want to. IT all comes down to that morbid fear of looking foolish, of being the nerd, the geek. I try so hard to avoid being the geek that I end up being - more of a geek. I have to break out of the loop somehow.
CONSOLATION When I kissed you on the ear last night © columbine |
