In the Ashes of
the Phoenix
According
to mythology, the phoenix is a bird which perishes in flame, then is born again
from his ashes. Of course, those same
myths also state that he lives five hundred years in-between, and has magical
powers. While I’m writing an analogy,
the parallels can only stretch so far.
As a
consequence of living, or, more accurately, things I did while living, I, too,
have burned my life to ashes. And not
for the first time, either. I’ve pulled
through to live again and hope there’s the chance to do so one more time. Like the phoenix, I hope the ashes provide a
place of rebirth.
Little is
known of what takes place within the ashes, between one life and the next. That is my purpose for this journal. Whether things go well for me, or they turn
ugly, I want to record that journey between my last earthly life in the real
world and the next. It is part catharsis
and part confessional. I seek better resolution
of myself, and a more complete picture may be revealed to others, beyond just
the facts.
Introduction
“What makes a man who he is?
Is it the worst thing he’s ever done, or the best things he ever wanted
to be?” spoken by narrator Dakota Fanning, in sci-fi series Taken
When I
began this journal, the purpose I had in mind was to explore these questions as
they relate to myself. So far, I feel a
good effort has been made to examine both my light and dark sides, my hope and
despair, my thoughts and my feelings. As
I continue to write, it is my hope to reveal the totality of what makes me who
I am, and in the process, to make changes for good in my life. I write this so the curious or concerned may
know of me, and because I believe I may become a better person by revealing
everything I can to someone, not leaving room for hypocrisy or lies. The only exception I make is that all people
and places mentioned remain anonymous, in order to protect them from any
negative impacts which might result from mention or association with this journal.
“When I was a young man, I did something which was not just,
and from it has sprung the misery of my life.
Do you think you can stop the consequences of a bad action, by doing
good ones afterward? I don’t. I have been trying to stopper it down with
good actions, ever since, but it goes on in widening circles. It will not be stoppered.” Book 4, Chapter 8 The Once and Future King, by T.H. White.
I don’t
consider myself as too selfish a person.
I like to help others out and try to do good when I can. However, I lament my actions which affected
others so and cost me so much. I used to
view good works as somehow cleansing me of the wrong and the consequences of
the bad. I followed that philosophy in
the beginning to get involved in church activities before my arrest, and in all
the effort I threw into my education. I
expected the good I was doing and had done before, both for others and for
making improvements in my own life, would weigh in my favor against those
consequences. It didn’t. It simply presented a dichotomy within
myself, which Left me vulnerable to attack from all sides, and to charges of
hypocrisy. To try to stop the
consequences was like trying to bail water out of a boat with a teaspoon. In spite of my efforts at good actions, I
eventually went under.
To do
something as a young man and then fixate on it for years also has its
consequences. It forms a template in the
mind and in the habits, and the longer that template remains in place, the
harder it is to move outside it or see beyond it. Even after becoming a Christian, rather than
submitting to the new template, I simply tried to overlay it on the existing
one, being more comfortable with the familiar than with what I knew to be
better. I’ve had to learn in many a hard
way, that just as the Bible tells us that the blood of bulls and sheep hasn’t
the power to cleanse us from sin, only to cover it, so my own efforts to do
good could, at best, only obscure the bad.
The misery has continued in widening circles because I was trying to do
it all myself. Only by yielding to God
and the blood of Christ can I be cleansed from my sin and properly directed,
and only by turning it all over to Him can I be pulled from my morass of
misery. Consequences remain and must be
dealt with for past actions, because a man sows what he reaps, but at least the
cycle may finally be put to an end.
“You know nothing but the truth and have no tenderness, thus
you judge unjustly.” – Aglaya Yepanchin
to Prince Myshkin – The Idiot by
Dostoyevsky
Some
reading this may choose to pass judgment immediately, with only a few facts to
support that reasoning, and no further examination. That is up to you and I have no resentment if
that is your decision. But in doing so, you
miss much, ignoring all the facets but the face you see. Through that lens, I now answer the first
questions.
What is the
worst thing I’ve ever done? In my youth,
for a span of nearly ten years, when opportunity arose, I would follow young
girls around and rub against them/grab them on the bottom and/or make lewd, masturbatory
gestures in their presence. It was sick,
it was disgusting, it was perverted. Why
I did that is likely to be rooted in poor social skills, immaturity, and/or
some sort of psycho-social disorder.
This, however, doesn’t excuse it.
I still had an impact on those girls, possibly affecting their
confidence or their trust, at least for a time.
I thank God that I can honestly say my behavior never exceeded these
bounds, never to include penetration or even any form of intimate skin to skin
contact. Regardless, though it was
through weakness on my part, and a form of sexual addiction, my behavior was
predatory and disgustingly wrong. This
behavior led me to a charge of sexual abuse, which cost me more than six years
in prison.
More
recently is related behavior that landed me in my current predicament, the
consequences of which were exacerbated by my previous trouble. I spent long hours at my computer viewing
pornographic and sexually provocative images and videos, and though much of it
involved adults, some involved underage material. This got traced to me, evidence of it was
found on my computer, and I received multiple counts to be served
consecutively. I hate that I hadn’t fully
outgrown my youthful perverted lusts and that in my own way I contributed to
the exploitation of those girls. I will
likely be stuck doing my time till about the end of the decade.
The best
things I ever wanted to be include being a man with a college degree, a decent
and fairly secure career, a house, and someone to share it with, as a husband
and perhaps a father. So far, I’ve only
managed the degree, but I got off track on the rest. Maybe some of those won’t be achieved due to
the route I’ve taken. But more than just
achieving or accumulating things, the best things I hope to be are those which
are according to God’s will for my life at this time. What that may be, I don’t know, but I
acknowledge that I am where I am because this is where God wants me to be at
this time, and He’s shaping me for something better. And I really don’t care if that sounds like
pious claptrap to some people; it is the truth as I know it.
“America is the land of the second chance, and when the
doors of the prison open, the path ahead should lead to a better life” – George
W. Bush
In the natural
course of things, I should still have many years ahead of me. Of course, I still have to deal with all the
turmoils of this setting, as well as my own depression which encourages me to
end things, but I still have the potential to be a productive and contributing
member of society. Though my writing may
not always reflect it, I am striving to better myself and place myself into a
position where I can lead that better life, and take that second chance to be a
good man, who does good naturally because of what is being developed
within. I know that technically it’s
more than a second chance, but consider Jesus’ answer to Peter when asked how
often he should forgive his brother for sin done to him, Jesus said, “Until
seventy times seven” (Mt. 18:22). I repent
of this sinful behavior, I seek all the help I can in remaining turned from it,
and I ask forgiveness of everyone I’ve hurt.
I will use every chance given to move to that better life for myself and
others.
One thing I
have going for me is that while I might rightly hate and be ashamed of those
things which got me here, and even the person I was when I did them I know who
I am today, and the better things I strive for.
I like that person. I hope as
many people as possible get to know this man and who I’m becoming.
4/30/12
12/20/11
This is
getting ridiculous. It’s now over a week
since we’ve been locked down and no end in sight, except for one word it might
go through the New Year. For the post
part, I don’t object too bad, although my library books may be done by the
weekend. A bit more reading is available
to me, plus TV, cards, and writing, so I won’t necessarily suffer. But it would be nice to do chess and make
right use of the microwave.
The thing
that’s got me stressed is hearing that about 27 people will soon be shipped
out. I’m programming, have a class,
etc., but I also feel like that since things are going well and I’m about as
comfortable as I can be in this situation, then I can only expect things to
turn ugly. Oh Lord, I fear what may come
– the abuse, the fear, the posturing, the newness, the BS. Right now, while I would welcome death, I’m
not looking to take an active hand in it.
Should I be forced to move, I see the lure of the rope growing
stronger. Everyone dies and I know where
I’m going, so why not if things get too bad.
Not that I’m looking to it right now, but it’s never off the table. I just know I ask to maintain this stability
at least through this program, so maybe I can be better armed in spirit,
emotions, and purpose against what may come next.
Tomorrow, I
plan to do more Bible reading than I have in about a couple weeks. I’ve finished books that were getting in the
way of that, so I know there’s time on that front. I will watch a movie at 10:00, but following
that my first priority will be to pick up my OT reading. No excuses.
I know I need to strengthen myself in the spirit, because I know that
even if things stay well for awhile, my own strength is still not
sufficient. Surely I will need to call
on greater strength should things go to shit.
The other
thing I need to begin is writing – other than this. It may be that the stories I have in mind are
too large to let me begin. I know about
where I want to go and how to do it, but I think the scope of it daunts
me. So, let me set up three small
projects to begin. 1) Letter to nieces
and nephews; 2) Character and setting development, establishing SE intro in
larger planned work of the Plague; 3) Recall and redo Bigfoot short story. Get these done over the next couple weeks
working daily on them, at least a few minutes.
No need to carve out 5 hour blocks, because that sets up for
failure. Let me just write a few words
at a time, and keep going if I’m inspired and driven for it. Let the first draft flow, then only focus on
thinking when it comes time to rewrite and fix it. Don’t stress perfection.
Dear Lord,
I know what I plan and hope for. I pray
I might have the opportunity and direction to work on it. I fear that I may be removed from this environment
where I am just getting my feet set toward beginning to accomplish
something. Not only fear of being
diverted from a purpose, but also for my and peace of mind. I know you are with me in all things and you
won’t give me more than I can bear. But
please wait to test me on that and give me the chance to center my focus on
you. Let me do the Bible studies and
grow in fellowship accomplishing those things where I am. I love you Lord and seek reasons to hope
rather than despair. Please don’t let me
be led to despair.
12/21/11
OK, so I
didn’t get any writing done today. I did
get some apparently much needed sleep, so I’ll be more up for things
tomorrow. Still got the stress riding me
and I should probably make a stronger effort to talk to psyche. And I will probably feel better once I
accomplish toward my goals.
As of
today, we have one year until the end of the Mayan calendar. I’m more than ready if it’s the end and
wouldn’t complain, though I know well enough that God’s plan is likely different
and we won’t know the day. Still, it
wouldn’t hurt my feelings.
12/25/11
So, this is
Christmas. We remain locked down and
waiting for people to get shipped out, if that’s what we’re waiting on. I’m still concerned about how the PTB intend
things for me, although I’m working on my trust in God, that He won’t put me in
a bad situation. After all, I can view
my current situation as an answer to prayer.
I finally
got a bit of writing started, but there’s still a lot yet to go. It’s been a couple days and again, I think
the big culprit may be the TV, coupled with fatigue. I may plan to watch some tomorrow, but I do
need to make sure I write and read my Bible.
I’ve even
failed to update this as things occur or come to mind. I don’t exactly intend this as a daily log,
but I should write when the occasion warrants it.
We had
actual snowfall a couple days ago and while there’s little remnants yet on the
ground, we missed a little bit the white Christmas.
I’m on my
last library book. I happily get to
re-read “Down to a Sunless
Sea.” I always liked this book and some of its
images and even with older eyes, it’s still good so far. It was written in 1981, like “The Talisman,”
so the flavor’s a bit different from today.
I really noticed that with King’s book when I reread and was taken with
little things that probably would seem odd to write today. The 12-year-old hitchhiked across the
country, highly unusual to consider then, unthinkable and probably criminal
today. Of course, what strikes me is probably
only due to my own unique perspective, but I suppose it’s realistic to detect
changes in mores during my lifetime.
I hope
things get back to normal soon. This was
old a week ago.
12/27/11
The news
has been heavy with the story out of Stamford,
CT, about the house fire that
killed 5 people, including 3 little girls.
Very much a tragedy and sad when it happens. But, I also find myself wondering what makes
this a national news story? Death,
accidents, and tragedy happen every day, and each one impacts those around
them. Is it wrong to think every story
should deserve such coverage? What
brings attention to this story? Is it
the people involved? The income? Proximity to New York?
I would never want to strip such an event down to a mere clinical
assessment, but I do wonder what it is that brings certain local happenings to
the national stage. I might even try to
analyze it if I had the current ability to work with it. But never to forget the souls of those
involved and hope to see a full life for everyone.
12/30/11
I got to
read again “Down to a Sunless
Sea.” I’d forgot some of the things that made the
book special, as well as some of its flaws.
Some of the numbers and science was noticeably off, such that a
semi-knowledgeable proof-reader should’ve caught it. But the writing of survival, sacrifice, and
heroism is such that it’s remained memorable and even brought some tears. I was actually surprised to see some parts
were as short as they were, since I remembered them so large.
Also, they
did their big move of people and I remain here, so my stress level is back down
to normal. I’m thankful I get to
continue with the Crossings and hopefully get other things done. Maybe people leaving means there’s jobs
available.
We’re off
lockdown now, so hopefully a trip to the library will happen pretty quick.
1/2/12
We’re at
the start of a new year, but the concerns of the old year still remain. The latest rumor I’ve heard is that the moves
which recently occurred was only the start of churning things about, rather
than just clearing a building for work.
This is a concern to me, since I know my mental health is improved with
stability. Although I know God will have
me where He thinks is best according to His plan, I hope to remain here where I
so far feel secure and blessed in how things are. While it may be better for my ability to bear
the burden to increase, rather than to simply have the burden decrease, I am in
a place where I believe I can live, learn, and grow. I feel my walk as a Christian and a writer
improving and through Crossings, etc. I hope to improve as a man.
I remain
scared of what a move could mean. Where
I live, I don’t have to worry about my safety or having my possessions
stolen. I get along well enough with
those in the pod, even if it’s my own company I prefer best. Right now I’m not too worried about violence
against me in this refuge and pray it can remain this way. But I know that when conditions turn toward
the hopeless is when I seek any way out.
My desire for an end to this has not waned. I should even welcome death as a way
out. That, at least, holds no fear for
me. I know where I’m going and it
happens to everyone as a natural part of life.
The inclination toward actively taking that step never completely goes
away, though right now it’s at low ebb.
But to turn things for the worse would definitely have me seeking death
as a viable option.
1/3/12
It seems
that I can get no peace in my spirit. At
the risk of sounding like a broken record, the talk about transport of another
bunch of people away is causing me stress.
When I heard mention of it this morning, a flash of fear went through
me, with pulse and blood pressure racing for higher numbers. I know I don’t tend to respond well to
change, especially when that change is imposed on me from without. But, I seem to be in as good a situation as I
can hope for, especially if I can get to work.
I know that God is in control of the current circumstances and He will
be of whatever may come. Yet I have no
peace about it and I hear the call of the noose as a means to finding that
peace. Not that I’m not looking at
everything else going on, or things I’ve set out to do (writing, etc.). But change for me is only representing crisis
or danger, rather than hope.
I’ve been
reading a book about a Christian in China who endured much for his
faith. He’s been persecuted, imprisoned,
and horribly beaten. Yet, he’s been
instrumental in the house church movement.
He is a criminal in his homeland only because of Christ. But although he’s had high and low points,
even asking God for release from this life, he has managed to keep his faith,
commitment, and honor to his purpose.
Never did he deny the Lord or compromise his principles. Is it my character, comfort, or Western
upbringing that makes me feel so much weaker?
Of course, to be reviled and persecuted for faith is a blessing, but
there is no glory or honor in suffering because of wrongdoing. I’d let myself wander so far from God’s plan
for me and from fellowship with Him, that He considered such corrective
procedures necessary for me. Was it for
the saving of my soul? No, His grace has
covered me since I called on Him and accepted Him as my savior. I know salvation doesn’t depend on
works. But I violated God’s principles
and His discipline comes to put me back on the right path.
What
purpose does He still have for me? I
wish I knew. I think I would find it
easier to endure if I knew where all this was leading. He wants me to become a better man and a better
reflection of Him. But other than that,
I would like to know where I fit in His plan, or to simply be taken home to
Him. I know the thought is there to take
that action myself. No matter what I do,
I know that I won’t succeed in it unless it is God’s will. So, if I were to be the agent of the end of
my life, would that not be because God had allowed it?
I seem to
be more morbid than usual today. Part of
that I know is related to my stress and fear.
Part also is that I get called for blood work today, nothing critical in
itself, but last time it occurred, I was shipped out right after the
results. And so the circle closes.
Enough of
that for now. I hope to speak with
[redacted] at some point and I hope to be prepared when that happens. For today, I plan to finish a segment of my
writing and the middle third of the novel I’m reading. Other reading that was a goal to complete
today in books, magazine, and Bible has been completed so that need not
distract me. I may take time to visit
the library and plan to go to the chapel this evening. No writing class this week. I’m also seeing as a weakness in myself that
in setting out to accomplish things, I don’t set sufficient time aside for
prayer and fellowship with God. When the
intent is there, it is too often shifted from due to a program I’ve looked
forward to, or fatigue leading me to sleep.
1/4/12
So far this
day, I’ve only managed to go question about classes. Given available spots, it doesn’t look highly
likely. I meant to go talk to the psych,
but prayer led to relaxation let to sleep.
I need to try after lunch and will update if anything happens. I also have writing to accomplish this
afternoon.
Talk is
still all about people getting shipped out and I don’t feel prepared if it’s me. My chronic desire for death and going home to
the Lord had been low enough to preclude my taking an active hand. Fear and danger ramp that up and both seem to
be increasing lately.
I have
writing to do this afternoon and have specific manageable projects figured for
the next few days, so hopefully I’ll accomplish something.
There are
some things I thought to write on which led me to begin this journal. Those things have lost the sharpness of the
moment, but I still think I’ll write on them here so they’re recorded in some
fashion, beginning with this one:
In a
collection of short stories by Ray Bradbury was one entitled “The Blue
Bottle.” The setting was a Mars that we
now know could never be. The blue bottle
being searched for functioned something like a genie’s lamp, in that when you
opened it, you would receive the thing you truly most desire, even if that
desire is something you’re not consciously aware of. One man getting hold of it simply felt the
bottle sloshing around, so he could pour out some damn fine bourbon. But there was a danger in finding this
bottle, too, because a good many of those who found it ended up dead. But the story goes on to express that given
the nature of man, these folks may have received that which they most desired. It postulated that within a majority of
people lies a secret desire, a subliminal urge, that through some private guilt
they seek to find death. Perhaps it’s
not just death they seek, but really an end to the troubles of life. An end to doubt, fear, loneliness,
helplessness, frustration, shame, despair, torture, monotony, want, toil,
shortcomings. Everything.
So often, I
wish I could find that blue bottle.
No way to
talk to psych today. She’s booked. Not that talking to her is any substitute for
prayer. That is ongoing and I continue
to seek an outcome I can live with.
1/6/12
Yesterday I
did no writing. I absolutely was not up
for it. I’m quite tired today, but hope
to get that important letter finished.
I’m still
here, but my stress level was jacked way up.
In spite of that, although I’d written a note to speak with the psych, I
didn’t deliver it. I had been thinking
of times I’d spoken, but should have kept my mouth shut. I don’t actually know if this is one of those
times, but I felt greater inclination toward prayer than talk. Don’t know yet if this day is different.
I had
included sunflower seeds on my canteen sheet because I wanted the option they
provide available. They were out. I have to think about what this may mean.
1/8/12
It turns
out I had no need to request a psych meeting.
I received an appointment slip Friday, apparently as a matter of
course. This does little to allay my
stress levels, since I feel precedent for meeting, then transport. Perhaps I can learn something tomorrow and
hopefully I’ll feel better.
It’s been a
few days since I got any writing done.
This was largely due to the book
I was reading taking longer than anticipated. Reading
is not actually the higher priority, but finishing in a timely manner is. There’s still time today, but two movies are
to be shown, plus the football. Tomorrow
for sure, writing is my highest priority, though I still need to make that
appointment.
I may have
something to say here tomorrow. I hope
the word will be that I remain here, adding to my foundation and growth. I have the Crossings program, writing class,
chapel and Bible study activities. When
people leave, jobs should open up. God
help me to get through this time and walk well in His way, with a will for me I’m
able to accept.
Undated
According
to the best data interpreted by physicists, astronomers, and other scientists,
the universe is 13.7 billion years old.
The best that can be expected for a human lifetime is around 100 years. Taking each to their nearest order of
magnitude (102 and 1010), the universe is over 100
million times older than I will ever be.
So, it’s
taken me a lifetime to get my head around the immense age of the universe (let
alone the age of Earth and geologic ages).
The sun, being around half its life spent had another 5 billion years to
go (5 x 109). Now, the best
evidence indicates the universe is expanding, but rather than reaching a
maximum size before reversing direction for a collapse, it will continue to
expand at an increasing rate, due to dark energy. This means that entropy will increasingly dominate
as the universe continues to cool – stars die, evaporation happens, and the
vacuum of space becomes more perfect.
The slowest
burning and longest lived stars are the red dwarfs, but the last of them is
expected to burn out in 100 trillion years (1014). This is 10,000 times longer than the current
age of the universe. My mind slips away
from being able to grasp such a timeframe.
But then the black holes will still exist, although through quantum
effects, they will slowly dissolve away.
A black hole with the mass of the sun would evaporate in 1066
years, while one massing a galactic cluster evaporates in 10117
years. At this point, the universe will
once again be void of energy and light.
The universe will be a trillion trillion trillion trillion trillion
trillion trillion trillion trillion times older than it is now. To consider the very concept taxes my brain,
leaves me in awe, mingled with despair.
My mind slips off the edges of such scale and I feel that if I did fully
grasp it, it would be too much for me, causing me to shut down, perhaps become
catatonic.
Yet the
scale grows bigger. Even so vast a time
as 10117 years becomes less than a drop in the bucket of eternity. This is the time that we are to spend with
God (or the other place for those who haven’t accepted His gift of
salvation). I look at that with my eyes
of flesh and even knowing the glory and perfection we will enjoy, in ourselves
and our environment, I cannot conceive of remaining there forever, or even
desiring to. My life in the spirit may
remove such doubts and negative considerations, though I lack the power to
imagine how.
Such time
scales, especially when taken with the infinitude of space, causes me to view
my own existence as utterly insignificant in the grand scheme. Actually, even the echoes of the greatest
figures in history also have zero significance.
Yet God still thought enough of each one of us to send His son to pay
the penalty for our sins, so we might spend that eternity with him. I cannot understand, although I want to. My despair lies in contemplating the scale of it all, vast beyond imagining. Maybe when I do understand, I will learn that
time is not what I perceive it to be.
Could it be something that is not so unbearable to consider? Perhaps it’s only an artifact of this
universe we live in. Will that make it
less difficult to bear? Will living
daily in the presence of God ever get old?
Will there be opportunities for adventure that I feel are lacking? Will I be able to serve productively
eternally and be satisfied with it? When
I lay this body of flesh aside and go in the spirit to my Lord and Savior, will
such questions or concerns remain valid?
What questions will be valid then?
1/11/12
So, I
haven’t written for a few days, not really for lack of anything to say. I did talk to the psych on Monday and had a
decent dialogue. Though I was unable to
get anything definitive out of her (and I don’t believe she knew more than she
was telling on this), it seems my being in the Crossings program may help
provide a measure of security for me.
This is not for sure, but it has helped some to settle my mind.
The rest of
that day had some disappointment with a food order not being filled, but that
turned out to be a good thing. The
Crossings graduation was that night, which included a bunch of junk to munch
on. I was also glad to get that event out
of the way, since now it won’t interrupt the last episodes of “Chuck.”
Yesterday
had it’s own yippie-ki-yay start. I’d
planned to stay sleeping and skipped medline, only to be got up and called to
medical. The checking of the vitals went
quick, but then I had to wait two more hours to see the doctor for the routine
stuff they do. I later went to my
writing class (decent), but never got back to sleep or my Bible reading for the
day done. Knowing I was tired and how I
get when I’m like that, I decided to rest instead of going to chapel last
night. Of course, while I can claim that
not wanting to be a cranky SOB to people was my reason, it did get backed up by
my desire to see a movie. Perhaps poor
rationale, but I did enjoy the movie.
This
morning, I mostly rested and I’m feeling a bit better. Most of my productive activity has been in
chess and reading. I should finish my
current book and tomorrow I hope get going on a new writing idea which I’d like
to flesh out on paper.
1/20/12
I sure
didn’t mean to go so long without writing anything. Writing for class, reading, sleep, chess,
television, and other distractions kept me away from this. Actually, some of what I got done was in a
productive vein, so I don’t feel too apologetic about it.
Around here
it’s been mostly the same old stuff. I
got a good story written for my class, but I’ve got a couple more to write that
I’ve been too occupied to get to. So, I
may have to cut this short today, even though I’ve got something significant to
talk about.
I was
actually going to write a couple days ago, since it was the birthday of S. and
she was on my mind as a result.
Actually, there hasn’t been a day without her on my mind. If the day would come that I realized I
hadn’t thought about her, that would be a sad day indeed. I would likely shed some tears if that were
to happen. She was one of my best
friends ever, and probably my greatest companion. I came to love her through the slow
development of our relationship. I can’t
say courtship because things never actually went that direction, but it seems
we both know it could have. We were each
other’s regular companion for dinner, movies, trips to the coast, or just
hanging out. She became a regular
fixture in my life and I could relate well with her. She is very attractive and capable. Our sense of humor and sensibilities meshed
well. She could appreciate a well timed
fart, or smile and roll her eyes at my bad jokes, often double-entendre. Our quirks kept each other entertained, too. I’d laugh at her Ugli dolls and she became
accustomed to my sneezes, so would laugh when she saw other people react. I don’t know where things would’ve
developed. I chose not to press for more
than the good friendship we had, because we both knew I was leaving, school was
enough to worry about without complicating things further, and she’d mentioned
before that a 15 year age gap seemed a bit much on the face. That last bit became less of a concern though
and if I’d made it back that summer, I would have taken a chance. I think I could’ve at least brought it up
without ruining a perfectly good friendship.
Since it’s
been over a year since I’d last heard from her, I thought she was out of my
life for good. But on her birthday, a
Christmas card from her finally caught up with me. I was stunned and her note inside mentions
resuming contact. I’ve been preoccupied
with what to say back. It won’t be a
lot, because if I let myself ramble, I could make her uncomfortable. But I will let her know how glad I am to hear
from her. I love her on many levels and
am thankful I may still have a place in her life.
1/23/12
The last
several days just haven’t been as productive as I would’ve liked. It’s not all fatigue, laziness, or
whatever. I can blame movies in part and
the football games for yesterday. They
were both good games, except for the outcome.
Now I have no one to root for in the Super Bowl.
I did get
my letter to S written, which I kept short.
I knew that if I said a lot, especially after so long, I’d just ramble
and say something stupid, embarrassing, or uncomfortable. There’s this tenuous tie to her being back in
touch with me and the last thing I’d want to do is drive her off. So, I hope she’s doing well and I hear news
of her life soon.
Since I was
preoccupied by correspondence, I didn’t get a couple short stories fleshed out
on paper. The best I managed was what
might be termed a couple short essays.
Well, class is tomorrow and I’ll carry on from there.
I believe
Crossings starts back up again tonight.
There’s only two left in my group, so we’ll see how that goes and what
happens next, now that my evening routine starts again.
