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Wednesday, May 5, 2010
people in need
my name isn't haiti people in need: children of tomorrow, by the way
that is a result of many twists and turns of my life
including a limited knowledge of web servers, fullbright scholarships,
heart surgery complications, obsessive love (2 cases of this causing 2 people to do crazy things)
i'll stop there to examine this
i had a boss, we'll just call her j. johnson to protect her identity,
and she was a very sweet lady but also a little insane
she loved a man and obsessed about him constantly
every time the phone rang she said "it's jeff" and it wasn't
she thought he was listening to us or watching us with surveillance gizmos in our office
she hated every woman he ever talked to, especially those he was close with
and even suspected him of secretly siring a baby that we all knew
which was all odd paranoid bullshit
jeff went to haiti a day or two after the earthquake
and she went after him, even tried to convince me to stay at the hotel for an extra two weeks
so that she could go right away, but i just couldn't do it
my mind was made up to leave, i was ready to leave and as miserable as i've ever been in that hotel
so she went because she wanted to be a part of his experience there
though she wanted to help people she wouldn't have gone if he hadn't first
because she was struggling hard to be a part of his life
and i think he might have loved her too, but he wouldn't have shared that with me,
he was more reserved, more like me, he also wore tunics unlike me or anyone else since the 1800's
and i was also, or at least at times it would occur to me that i might be, in love with my friend megan
and i told no one about this except when i half-revealed it to my sister over the phone, probably crying
and i congratulated myself about keeping my obsessive thoughts to myself
i wasn't like jay, i didn't say things like "it's megan" when my phone rang but i always thought it
i always worried that she was closer with other guys than me
went in circles in my mind over and over about what i meant to her, what she meant to me
<"i was made to love her" by stevie wonder is playing on pandora. i like that song.>
i told my therapist that i was sort of proud of keeping my dignity during this whole situation, never exposing my craziness
and he said he thought that was pretty sad
what a fucking bitch!
i also did something kind of crazy to stay a part of megan's life, probably just about as crazy as flying to haiti during the worst disaster of our age
and people congratulate me for it still and it makes me feel like a piece of shit
"don't" she said once in a completely different context
and i said, "no, i mean because i'm hung over"
she had a girlfriend who had a husband and it made her very sad
she'd say: i know i can't ask for all of her love but i need it
and i'd say: needing someone's love and not being able to ask for it sucks
but i was just writing my life like a hemingway novel anyway
there's nothing dramatic about facing your emotions at their real value or being content
i'm either pretending that everyone reads this blog or that i'm talking to the sky when i say
that i love you all and miss you all very much: denise, doree, jimbo, dave, sandy, darla, sam, megan, scott, sam, scott, jordan, shelly, jennifer, chino, mark, martha, ted, stacy, traci, richard, doug, diane, curt
i don't believe that wherever i go next will treat me as well