So I let Crazy pull me in
Then I let Crazy take his spin
Kicked off my shoes
Shut reason out
He said
“first let’s just unzip your religion down
Heard that you were once Temptation’s girl”
November 2005
The ghosts of my dead lovers haunt me. The boys who loved a girl, long since placed in a grave, wander through the laundry basket of my mind, sorting through memories and sifting them out, checking their worth.
My bedroom has become a void. I can’t bear to be in that room. And the only thing I keep coming back to is, night I saw you after a 9 month absence. I want to tell you how much I miss you and how deeply I love you, but something is stopping me. Just like something is stopping me from unpacking my bedroom.–> –> –> –>
Significantly, this is the first time we’ve been together and I haven’t been a basket case for 2 weeks after you return home. And then I realize that I haven’t slept in 2 days and haven’t gotten into my car in 5 days. Let’s face it, you make me full on crazy. And my patient little Ims and voice mails drive you crazy. The difference is you are better at it than I am. You are better at closing the Vault door and stashing the key in an old faded pair of jeans that you toss nonchalantly on the bedroom floor.
I guess in the long run, my getting on that plane was the best thing that ever happened to you. Imagine what might not have been had I gotten into your car instead. The fact that we are still here is probably a testament to something. I’d like to think it’s something about true love. The sad reality is that it’s probably something about a testament to Insanity.
I’ve been thinking about this for the past day now and I really need to say this.
I just can not fathom how you can focus on something that happened so long ago, between two children, when you have such a charmed life. The fact is, you’ve seen things and done things other people only dream of. You have a wonderful career and a potential opportunities project, you’ve flown in Air Force One and met an American President, you’ve traveled the world, and at the end of the day you are bemoaning the loss of a love 20 years ago.
And despite it all, you refuse to see that had I not gotten on that plane, had I instead stayed with you and married you, none of the fabulous experiences you’ve had would be a part of your reality.
You sound like a spoiled child. I hate to say such a harsh thing, but maybe you need a stern reminding of how great your life really is.
I think the sad truth here is that you simply aren’t interested in knowing who I am as a grown woman. Even now, you are still in love with a girl who died 5 years ago. Who I am now is nothing like the girl I was, and while I think she was spirited, head strong and wild, I also think she was brave, I am no longer that girl.
It makes me sad to realize this truth. I wish you did have an interest in knowing the woman I am today.
******************************
“Trouble is her only Friend, and he’s back again”
November 2007
Instead, you disappear for 16 months at a time without a word, and expect me to take you in like a lost and bedraggled animal… or is that Animaul? Either way, it is the sort of behavior that makes me Crazy.
And as soon as you have rearranged
the mess in your head
He will show up looking sane
perfectly sane
If I know Crazy
I thought I had gotten over Crazy.
I truly believed thatTHIS TIME, yes this last time, I had finally conquered the Crazy Demon from my past. But, alas, no.
After being told how wretched I am, and how much you want me away from you and out of your life –DING!– another email from your sorry ass, and here I am, fighting off the Crazy Demon with a flimsy pipe cleaner and a used coffee filter.
Full on Crazy.
Angry. Hurt. Sad. Depressed. Furious. Insane.
All the wonderful emotions that run rampant when you come back around.
You look so Sane.
You sound so Well Adjusted.
But we all know how deeply disturbed you really are and how your particular brand of Crazy is as contagious as the Black Plague in Paris.
I loved you once. And I was willing to make room for you in my life under the conditions I gave you in October 2005. So far, you can’t seem to leave the drama behind and are unable to act like a mature, 42 year old man. Getting drunk and playing the “You broke my heart you bitch” soundtrack is really not something I want to hear again and again. Your stories are so weak and pitiful, I am embarrassed for you when I hear them. For someone with so much talent, I would expect you to put a little more effort into your lies.
I can only imagine what story you have this time. I bet it’s going to be a whopper!
I loved you… but I’m not sure that I love you anymore. You always forgot that I have always loved you. I wonder if this time, you forgot for the both of us.
The Jamaica Inn 