Where are you now? You must, at least, send postcards from wherever you go. I have a collection. But please don’t send me anything that I will get arrested for (drugs, severed limbs, etc.) I’m really not in the mood. You must be terribly lonely there in the nether regions, to be thinking of me. Have you been back to Paris yet? I remember how you took that girl, the one before me. You only knew her for four months and she got a trip to Paris! We dated for a year. Anyway, if you go – apparently the Musee d’Orsay has a picture of me, I’m the spitting image of Madame Rimsky-Korsakov by Winterhalter. Different people at different times. Do you still look like the fat drugged up Elvis?
Honestly, I am very lonely, but that is my own fault. Loneliness is a funny thing. I mourn the loss of people who meant so much to me, even when I know I could pick up the phone and talk to them right this minute. I think it must be my cross to bear that I love unconditionally, forever, people that I shouldn’t. I am in a constant battle to forget them, to let them go. Having a dog helps with some of that.
I am ready for the life that I thought I would have: over the top, eccentric, fun and full of cash. Job interview on Monday. As my former boss, any tips? My interviewer is a woman and that never goes well for some reason. I have a new lipstick called Orb. It’s a very high brow, coked up, death mod shimmer gold. I don’t think I’ll wear it.
I’ve seen it raining fire,
I’m in Copenhagen right now. I came by train and will be here for a few days. Then I am off to London to negotiate my position with a new company.
Yet, even with all my grand adventures, I am still frightened and find myself wandering the narrow streets, in the dark, crying my eyes out wishing I was in Fair Oaks, California or better yet, running away to Kosovo to help the refugees, or somewhere in my past, like elementary school. Don’t know if I’ll ever be settled, I think my life is short…blah blah blah
JOCE, I was wrong. I treated you unfairly and poor at best. I think of you fondly, I wish we went to dinner more often, to the movies even. But, I was fucked in the head, I’m sorry you were part of the “collateral damage” of my fucked life at the time. It breaks my heart that we never went to Paris.
I don’t like it when you’re lonely. I remember your eyes and your face when you were sad. You looked like a small child with an adult mind. I’m afraid the very quality that makes you the wonderfully unique person you are is the same that exiles you from others. YOU MUST MOVE.
Even now, I wish I hadn’t thrown your love away. You are still my magical fairie princess/Puck of my fantasies. And in case I never get to tell you, in person, ever again…I love you, Joce. I really do.
Get over yourself already! I am not still mourning the loss of our warped relationship, and my loneliness is not related to us not being together…maybe you forget my caustic sense of humor. It doesn’t break my heart we never went to Paris; I’m just jealous you took someone else to Paris. I’m also jealous that other people are thinner than me and that someone besides me invented underwater walkie-talkies! Our relationship was so dumb, blah, blah, blah.
Seriously, you think your life is short, and you’re crying your eyes out? Just two weeks ago you were “so happy.” Maybe you should see your physician. Do what you long for, what you dream about, you have no reason to do otherwise. I think you should meditate, do yoga and read something that isn’t volatile, something to calm your brain. I think you have a pretty big support system, rely on them. Be thankful you don’t have strep throat and it’s finals week and you still have to work 40 hrs. and then have a garage sale this weekend to raise money because you are pathetically poor. Yeah, I didn’t get the new job. Oh, petty me.
E Pluribus Unum,