Well. I was hoping that the last entry would be the last entry, leaving things on an amusing and vaguely positive note. For me, at least. But alas, here we are again.
Hydroelectric has become my filtration system. Pyretta, Sternenfall, hell, even Almarina, they're all too good for this. And so am I. But there is still this residual plaque sticking to my arteries, clogging my heart with its bullshit. There's still residual pain. And every now and then a clot, an aneurysm, something breaks loose and I can flush it out. No easy task but a necessary one.
And so I again turn to you. You in the hydroelectric sense. I hope one day your good name is cleared of all the negative connotations you've come to represent. I almost don't even like the song anymore. But I have faith in you.
This weekend/past couple days have thrown a million balls of yarn at me and while I would love to spend aeons unraveling all of the carefully and learning how to knit beautiful things, I just don't have time. I had a glorious red moment Saturday night, but like most of them lately it was cut drastically short and was less than I had hoped for. Still, I'm thankful for the tear.
I am trying to figure out what is wrong, and there are so many possibilities I don't know where to end or begin, what's ridiculous and what is genuinely plausible. I can't remember much anymore and most of the details have faded out. This is reassuring in the sense that this amnesia will most likely come in handy again, but horrible in the sense that I can't learn from anything, really. I feel like the guy in Memento, only I don't have time to travel around snapping Polaroids and writing notes.
One of the only lessons I remember having learned from Brian, besides the obvious money/living with someone issue is: Don't ever allow yourself to feel too special, as much as you want to. Don't ever think that you are important enough to anyone to be exempt from their bullshit. Look at the way they treat most people, think about what and who they care about. Watch what they do. For awhile it's great knowing you've been elevated above that. Everybody likes being on a pedestal. But sooner or later they're going to treat you just like everybody else. They're going to feel for you just like everybody else.
Which is bothering me right now. Really bad. For a couple reasons. One, I dread its inevitability. Two, it means I would be better off with someone who loves everyone, is good to everyone. And this bothers me. This bores me. A man with no enemies is a man with no convictions. And besides, I want to feel special. I just want it to be genuine. And I want it to be lasting. But nothing really lasts. Or something. I don't fucking know, and I'm afraid to find out.
I remember Thanksgiving:
Me: So, what do you think of Jesper?
Dad: I don't know, this is the first time you've brought anyone over with a personality.
Let's start there. There is this awful, monstrous part of me (I think) that would rather have someone who looks 'the part' rather than is 'the part.' Brian was so perfect because he was utterly malleable, because he couldn't make decisions, because all he ever wanted was someone to stick around. And since he did what I told him, I had no reason to leave.
I don't know if any of this is true. This is just one of the tangles. And, if it is true, that means I'm a lot more horrible than I thought I was. I think. Maybe it's just the way I am. I don't know.
This would give him an excuse to leave, knowing this. But I doubt he did. I doubt he could, because not even I knew. If I hold fast to the irrefutable fact that there was no excuse for his laziness, then I will be all right. Everything else is irrelevant. If I was a monster for molding him, he was an idiot for giving his life to someone, anyone, for molding. It doesn't change what he did.
"You would not make it if you were on your own, and this is why I'll never leave you alone." --Oomph! "Supernova"
That was his song, had been for a long time. I would take care of everything as long as he did these simple things, which he couldn't do.
Still, there's these tangles to deal with. It makes things difficult because now I am dealing with someone who doesn't need programming or developing. I'm hard-pressed to know what to do about it. Maybe I never knew you could just be with someone, you had to be constantly fucking with each other's wiring. Doc and I still are, but not in the same way. I went from knowing everything (even the possibility of what happened) about a person to, duh na na, knowing ZERO again. And it's such a pain in the ass. Most of it isn't like an adventure. Otherwise it'd be okay. It's not a glorious flood of chaos. It's confusing and unsettling and often hurtful. He stares at me and thinks why is she crying, and I look at him and wonder if he's telling the truth.
I need more good chaos, that's the trouble. There aren't enough good surprises. Just the I'm Sorries and Not Tonights and Give Me Times, from both of us.
But then again, would it really ever be enough.
Then there's the John tangle. There's always the fucking John tangle. Thinking more and more about it, about similarities, about things I didn't necessarily miss but nonetheless regarded it as irrelevant information...because, well, I didn't anticipate it happening again. With James it wasn't the issue because the distance kept me safe. But with every stone crumbled and every foundation worn away I need to pull it all out again.
That's enough for now, the headaches are coming.