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Unchained melody
2005-11-01 - 10:51 p.m. Hey again, y'all. Maybe I'm catching up for lost time. I wish I could have recorded so much more electronically before. My memories are written in so many media on so many scraps . . . Hurricane Rita didn't do as much damage to my area of LA as Katrina of course, but the winds were still high, and again we lost power. I stayed with my parents and made trips over here to make sure my dogs and house were safe and secure. By now, I knew the drill. I won't get started about beaurocracy and bad decisions and power plays and inefficient strategies and the inequalities of poverty that led to the poorest of the poor's mass genocide in New Orleans because I have nothing new to add to the mix and personally witnessed none of it firsthand. And that's all I want to say about that. Re the Indian and I: He came to my house as I knew that he would. I learned that I cannot turn back the time, erase the pain. I learned that I no longer feel as I felt about him. There is feeling, yes. I imagine I will die loving him in a way that no one will ever understand. I am no longer in love with him. Inside his arms is familiarity, but not comfort. Not strength. I cannot look him in the eye with respect. He is so stripped down, so bare. He needs nothing to survive. He is either the most foolish man I know, or the bravest. He has absolutely no fear. I made him leave because he let loose my b@sset hound. The second BH he did that to. Not intentionally, but he did. He didn't understand why this was a big deal for me. That dog is my baby. She sleeps on the foot of my bed, sometimes on the other pillow. If you are so stupid that you leave the living room door wide-ass open in Looziana in July when the air conditioner is laboring at 50 degrees to get to 70 degrees and my beautiful BH slips out, then I'm mad with you. And you can no longer live here, because my BH is precious to me. (We finally found her). I let him come back after he got out of the hospital for chest pains and had nowhere to go. But he later left and fucked up smoking rock, so again he had to hit the road. Before I kicked him out, we took a camping trip to Gr@nd Isle. Boosey and her husband joined us after 2 days for a total of 4 night, 3 days. We had a good time, made love on the beach in a tent with rain and lightning and thunder crashing all around us wildly. Afterwords, we sat up and stared out at the Gulf, talking about what we meant to each other and what we have been through together. He knew then, as did I, we were going to part for the last time. He told me, "I don't care what this one or that one says or thinks about you and me. They'll never know what we have together, but we do, and you know it's been real, girl. If you need more, I understand, and I won't stand in your way." We both cried that night and didn't sleep a wink. We stayed up till sunrise, talking and making love till we both were gritty with sand. We swam in the morning till we saw sharks and got out of the water. I am over him and no longer in his spell, for the first time in over 20 years. I will probably die loving him, and I'm ok with that now. �
still here - 2009-12-18
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