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Monday, May. 13, 2002 / 6:52 p.m. ~All In Good Time~ I eat the "heels" of the loaf of bread. I try not to waste. I recycle. I reuse. When I can. I missed the rain, or I wasn't out in it. I took my umbrella in the morning, it rained in the afternoon and I saw it from inside. Now the sun shines, the clouds are blowing over us with great swiftness ("swiftness"????), as if they're in a hurry to get to the next town. Wind. Lots of it. I think I've been writing to him. I can be so slow, so daft, so dimwitted. Why is that? I only just realized the name of the person I was to write to is his name backwards, and he is playing a game with me. I wrote to two people, or who I thought were two people, and one response I never read fully until now. I had to scroll, there was more. The other address never responded and I finally realized it's because we've already written. I think. I'm not sure. I've written three email letters to someone I don't know, someone so mysterious he doesn't sign his name. But he writes so well, and it's all in code, in riddles, I'm so intrigued, and pleased. Nothing is happening fast in this. I don't know where it's going, if anywhere. But Skipper wrote back, said he knows he's too old for me (yes) and fine, we can be friends (you knew this, I told you this before our first outing, you knew!), but he is disappointed. And he gave the same email address I've been writing to, one he believes is for James. I believe it too. I honestly think I've been writing to him today. I'm finally playing along. He says he'll explain... "in time". Right now I want to wait. I want to jump in and wait at the same time. Last night I lay in bed listening to Jeff Buckley, thinking that all the lyrics on "Grace", all the songs, all the melodies, could relate to his drowning. To his death, his demise, the ending of him, as if he chose each song because he knew. I listened to it twice, I replayed it when it was over, but I fell asleep. And before, I'd imagined hands touching me were his, James'. Lulu was my best friend today. She heard everything, she listened, she offered advice, she was excited at all the right moments, she shared it with me, she was happy for me, she refused to let me be negative, to think maybe he has a girlfriend, maybe he's not attracted to me, no "maybe not"s at all. Just yes. Just soon. Just sigh, grin. I want to say, "But I know how this goes, I've been here, I've seen this, I know where it leads and when it leads nowhere, fast, how much it can hurt." Amplify what Skipper feels, it can be that. It's not easy, none of it. But this writing thing, this email thing, I can't even describe it - I guess it's like a riddle I have to figure out. Coding I must decode. A game I must play until I win, and I don't know the prize, it's all enigmatic and crazy and feels wild, fun. It's art and language and artifice, secret identities and alter egos. Theory and postulating, and may the best person win. "In time", this person writes to me. And yes, can you hear me emit an "Unnnnnnhhhhhh"? I've just eaten for the first time today. Me of the upset stomach. Pesto/Parmesan ham, Provolone, mayo on whole wheat, yes, the ends. Juice, vitamins. Laundry. I have to have clothes to wear this week. It's the last thing I want to do. I want to sit and write in my paper journal, or here. I want to go on and on and on about how I feel, I want a reaction, I want answers, I want soon to be now, I can wait, but it's hard to wait. I have to quote some of it, some of what he's written: "The entirety of my persona is to illuminate the machinery and purpose of what we are amid, and show that they are gauze-like overlay to what we cannot know." Hmmmmm... kind of nice, eh? "Unnnnhhhhhh". It's a groan. Do you know it? It means, "Omigod, I can't stand it! I want this person! I can't stand waiting." It can also mean, "This is exciting, and exciting is good, and I hope to hell there is sex involved because all of a sudden it's what I want!". I'd better get started on my laundry. Clearly, anything which happens will happen because he wants it to happen. I've done all I can do, for now. Ahhhh... but I know where he lives, don't I? No, I wouldn't do that. Not yet. This is good for now. "In time". Cost of the War in Iraq
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