A sense of presence

Yesterday I put John's picture away from my bed and made my bed normally. (I've been sleeping in a sort of nest, with all these pillows on one side and my comforter on the other.)

So this morning, I was lying in bed, on my left side, with a small pillow between my arms. Lying on my side is a very lonely position in bed--I so ache to have someone come and spoon around me. I think spooning may be my most favorite thing in the world. Anyway, it sounds cheesy, but I felt a sense of John. It was quite simple, almost a whisper. But we had a conversation that boiled down to:

There is some sense of an afterlife.

He loved me.

He will keep an eye on me and help me find someone I will love.

I need to do my part by honouring my inner-Connie (make my two halves friends) and by believing in myself.

I musn't 'compromise.' I will meet someone I will truly love. No dating men that I think I ought to be happy with.

We will connect again at some point. Not in any recognizable form. But as spiritual entities.

He should go, and I asked if he had to, and he said not right now. Whenever I'm ready.

I asked him if this was entirely a figment of my imagination and he said not entirely. My sense, and I was sort of mostly asleep but not entirely, was that either he was in a form that I couldn't comprehend or that I was making this up, but it was based on who John really was.

It was a nice whisper of his love.

Here's to the ladies who lunch...

So I'm a little worried I'm drinking too much. I've had 18 drinks in the last 9 days, including 5 tonight. John always thought I should drink more, but there's no need for me to turn into Elaine Stritch all of a sudden.

I was on a date tonight, and the guy just spent so much money! It was fun, but also it felt hedonistic. I am sure dinner was over $300. With tip, probably $400. I always felt taken care of when John ordered the $19 meal for me, instead of letting me pick the $11 meal. (And sometimes we went to places that got into the low twenties for an entrée, but usually not.) But this felt odd. My salad was $12. Our entrees were $39. Each! I had 2 whiskey sours, 1 glass of wine, a glass of port and a glass of champagne. (That said, I didn't finish my 2nd whiskey sour, or the wine. But the staff kept bring out booze without me even ordering something.) I said I'd have a glass of port after the dinner and intended to order the $9 glass of port, but he ordered me that $34 port. $34! For a glass!!! Oy. I'd rather have the $9 and a $25 check to Pakistan relief. Then, I said that I had loved having a glass of port and a bit of cheese in Portugal and so he ordered a cheese platter. 14 kinds of cheese (about 3 huge pieces each). I think we ate maybe a total of 1 of the 14 pieces. (We had lots of little bites.) It was fun, but felt like a level of conspicuous consumption that made me feel odd. Ah, well.

The guy tonight was charming and funny. He drove me home and we sang Tom Lehrer songs in his car. But I'm not particularly attracted to him. However, he dropped 3 references to kink, so I'm happy to go out with him and see what develops. (I told him I want to go to a cheap hole in the wall next time, though.)

Meanwhile, I feel like I'm loosening a little around John. I can still burst into tears at a moment, if I think about him, but I put his picture in a slightly less conspicuous place.

I realized that there are several ways I wish John had been or acted differently. John really wanted me to agree to be his friend, and I did, and then he dropped me as a friend. That hurt! Also, it seems to me that John couldn't handle the fact I wasn't perfect. When I did something that annoyed him (and sometimes I totally see why he was annoyed, but sometimes I think it was unfair), he wouldn't bring it up kindly. He'd avoid me for a while or attack me quite harshly. I think he knew it. I think he wanted to change. But it was hard.

I pray for John. I don't really believe in God, but I'm hedging my bets here. I pray that he finds total, unconditional love. The love his parents never had for him. And peace and light. I try to visualize light for him. I hope there's an afterlife, and he has found a great equivalent of a bar and he and I can sit down and have a drink in 50 or 70 years, and finally have that loving kindness for each other. I'm sure he wanted it for me, even if we didn't ever express it.

Meanwhile, I'm going to watch how much I'm drinking. I'm not drinking by myself or at home. But whereas I used to nurse one drink and then switch to seltzer, I now seem to be happy to have quite a few. I'm not gaining weight from the booze (just the opposite it seems), but it feels wrong. This, at least, is not the time to radically increase my alcohol consumption.

Crawling out from under a rock

I seem to be doing a little better. Only one flash flood today, and I was able to control it enough to get into a restroom, and then be presentable 5 minutes later.

So this is what I currently think about the whole situation.

A) I am taking John at his word that he really did care about me. There were times I felt like I was just a distraction, but I think that was my own insecurities. There is enough evidence (borrowing my ring, calling me his soul mate to a friend, 564 pages of e-mails) that I do really believe he cared about me. I'm even willing to believe that his reluctance to have sex was his wanting to protect me. He told he he'd done a lot of casual sex, and it didn't work. He could have had me anytime, and he knew it. That was a sacrifice he made.

B) John did, I think, know his body wasn't working well. He told me he had serious memory issues, and I didn't take that as seriously as I should have. He also had been tested for MS, Lou Gehrig's disease and several other issues. There was no way that I can think that this could have been prevented (aside from not smoking, and John loved his cigarettes too much to give them up; plus, he believed he had Parkinson's, and cigarettes actually help prevent the onset of that.)

C) John knew he could be unkind when he was upset. I think that's what he meant when he said he was a bit of a rough ride. I didn't deal with it well. Mostly, I'd get defensive and then he'd disappear. I really hate that we had unresolved arguments. Like everyone, I'm not perfect. Like everyone, John would get upset with me sometimes (and I even got upset with him sometimes.) Like everyone, we'd clash over the stupidest things sometimes. John wanted me to be more rugged. I think there is where. I think he wanted to be able to get angry with me and not have it damage my sense of self. But I loved him, so it did. I seem to protect myself by how close I allow someone to me. I have very few defenses against someone who is very close to me.

D) John said "I don't deserve you. You deserve the man I aspire to become." I wanted to take that journey with him, but he didn't want to 'dishonour' me and believed he would at that point in his life. And it is possible that he was right. I actually think his desire for bdsm was linked to wanting someone to embrace the part of him that he saw as causing other people pain.

E) I expect John would be touched by my love for him. But I know he would also want me to live a full and beautiful life. I think he thought it would be a better life without him (he was wrong, but there it is.) I think if he had any one wish for me it was to believe in myself. To be a little less fragile and a little more rugged.

F) I regret that John and I didn't have that year and a half together. I would give anything to have that year and a half together. But it would have been a hell of a hard year and a half. Between him losing his job, his mother dying, my dad's cancer, and the fact that we didn't do a good job of resolving conflicts. I honestly don't know how I would have been able to manage last summer with taking care of my dad if he'd been in the picture. But I'd still give anything for that time with him.

G) He said once that he was always so happy when he was with me, but he didn't know if I made him happy, or whenever he was happy he wanted to be with me. I hope he was happy when he contacted me in June. I hope he was happy when he died. (I consider his "dying" to be when he had his heart attack, not when they turned off the machine.) But ultimately, I want a partner who can be with me when he's sad too.

H) I regret telling him how badly he hurt me. I don't think I did anything wrong. I tried to behave with integrity and love. But I think it probably caused him remorse. He believed (foolishly in my opinion) that if we didn't have sex, he wouldn't hurt me. If there is an afterlife, and if in that afterlife people have any connection with the people of this world, I truly hope and pray that he knows that I'm so very glad that I met him. I have regrets, but mostly about not resolving stuff. I would not have given up any of the time we had--I just wish we'd had more. (If there is an afterlife, I also hope and pray that John finds true, unconditional love. The love his mother never had for him. Wouldn't it be lovely if there was a deity, whether or not it is personified, that could provide him with warmth and love and light?)

I) I'm trying to figure out why his death hit me so hard, when he had already absented himself from my life. (Ignoring whether or not his reaching out to me the week before he died meant anything, although that certainly meant something to me.) Part of it was realizing that I didn't believe the narrative that I had told myself (that he wasn't that into me--that I didn't mean anything to him). Realizing that he did care about me, that made it a lot harder that we didn't work. John put most of the onus on my, but I really think it wasn't either of us--it was the particular chemistry between the two of us.

It also means that this is truly it. I had a feeling that John was going to come back in my life in some way or other. I went through the motions of moving on. But I didn't do it completely. Even though part of me thinks that this is a joke, or an elaborate ruse on his part to force me to get over him and move on, I know it can't be. No one can fake an obit on the NY Times web site. This is it. There will be no coda.

I wear my ring now and it is no longer just my ring. It is the ring that John had with him for a year and a half. It has his energy. He said in one of his last e-mails that it was like I was waiting for cosmic permission to trust myself, to trust him. I'm trying to think of this ring as his blessing to trust us both.

Two Flawed Beautiful Humans in Their Flawed Beauty

Well, I got through all the e-mails. They come to 564 pages, 12 point, Times New Roman, Single Spaced. Probably about 10 pages of that are photos.

Wow.

So, here's what I noticed.

His final e-mails to me, some of the bigger complaints he had about me, maybe they were fair. But mostly, I don't think so. I know that John had memory problems (he told me so), and I really think that that contributed to our misunderstandings. For example, he said: What I recall is my attempting to reach out to YOU. I remember trying to engage you on the subject of my mother's death and getting something back like 'good thoughts!'"

What the e-mails say is I asked him if he wanted to get together and he said:

Can't, sorry. I just got laid off from my job and to top it all off, my mother died yesterday."

I'm so sorry. So sorry.

Then I wrote the next week: "I hope you're doing ok. If you need anything let me know. It's a standing offer. I'm so sorry you got clobbered so badly all at once." And he didn't reply.

(I should mention his mom had been sick for about a month, and I wrote every single week, asking how he was and if he needed anything. I did send an e-mail where I asked "How you holding up? Do you need anything?" and wrote "good thoughts" about 100 times below it and he wrote: "I'm okay." I didn't respond right away, but asked how he was the next week. I assume that is what he was talking about, but he didn't reach out to me. "I'm okay" is not exactly a reaching out.")

Now maybe I didn't fully communicate, but I don't think that this was a case of him actually reaching out to me. I don't know if there is an unsent e-mail in his drafts folder that he thought he sent, but I don't think he reached out to me in any way I could have known.

He also was frustrated with me about my 'arrogance:' But the day any highly educated expert speaking on the subject of her own field refuses to explain her position and falls back to simple appeal to authority, actually expecting me to suspend my inquiry without an explanation simply because She Has Spoken, well, there's only so much I can put up with.

I found the conversation, and I can't reprint all of it because it makes me too easily identifiable. But I mentioned a link to something I found interesting and he said: "Sorry Connie but you know that's pretty much a grocery list of everything I find reprehensible in the universe. That sort of thing makes me cranky - it's just so... *pointless*" I attempted to explain when I cared (in 2 pages) and he replied: "look at what you're calling serious Connie I mean, *look at what you're calling serious*. Sinking to the occasion isn't part of the solution, it's part of the problem. Turning the conversation into sound bites and snark is a complete waste of time. Taking sides in an argument between Dumb and Dumber is not looking into the pit, it's the pit looking into you." Then we get to my 'appeal to my own authority' that infuriated him.

You know I did my (really big professional accomplishment on that topic). That was the topic I cared enough about to be one of the largest undertakings I've ever done. (This other thing also linked, which is almost my e-mail handle and is the thing he is putting down) is one of my proudest accomplishments.

In the last five years, I've kind of lost my passion for (this other part of my work). But my respect for and engagement in (the first part) is what I still identify with out of that project. It has been a huge part of my professional work and remains part of my engagement with the intellectual side of my professional life. As I've lost interest in (the second part), I've shifted my research over more and more to (the first part).

I know you don't care for it--fine. But you don't have to put down my interest in it.

I look at that, and maybe it is a girl/guy thing, but I really don't think I was out of line. I hardly think this is a matter of me saying "I'm smarter than you." I only mentioned the accomplishments because the topic represents a huge amount of my work, and I wanted him to be maybe a little kinder about the parts of me he didn't respect.

He said that I lacked courage when he and I were together. "Honestly though Connie- it's not a revelation that you had feelings on the line - but the scale!? The scope!? You kept that from me.? I got a hell of a lot of composed small talk and not much of the steam beneath the surface.? I introduce the topic one more time:? candor!? Why now?? What was the problem?? I was open to you.? Why didn't you talk to me?"

Here's excerpts of what we wrote one evening in January of 2009:

I want to brainstorm about how I don't get badly hurt. I know you don't want to hurt me. I know you said "patience isn't rejection" but it feels like it. And I feel like this is feeding my worst insecurities.

As we both know, I like clarity and you like ambiguity. I know that you aren't certain, but it will drive me insane, so I'm wondering if there is a way we can find to way to fake it.

Would it be possible to just leave it as "we're not involved romantically" and you stop mentioning that you feel ambiguity? Treat me like a platonic friend. I don't mean to censor you--and I'm sorry to ask, but we need to find a way so it is good for both of us.

I got home from a date Saturday night and your e-mail (which was great, don't get me wrong), but you mentioned that you wouldn't need to alter your tone much if we were involved, and it just did a number on me and it makes it almost impossible for me to connect with another man because it is impossible that I'd have the intimacy with anyone else after a day or a week or a month that we have after over a year. And I can't just put my life on hold in hopes that a wind changes.

If the wind changes, then by all means, let me know and we'll see where I am at that point in my life. And if you ever care, if you want that pot to boil, and can think of ways to make it boil or test the temperature, go for it. But don't tell me your uncertainty.

Would that be something that would work for you OK? If not, what would work for you? I really do value you as a friend. I care about you a lot, and I don't want to be like arbitrary "this is the way it is." ...

You have been... less than forthcoming

Really? I absolutely thought in Sevilla I had been as straight forward with you as I've been with anyone ever.

a) I did not, did not, know that badly hurt was on the table - I cringe - you are the one person, with the possible exception of my sweet angelface baby sister, I would least like to hurt, and would never wish to put at risk of that

b) I definitely considered platonic friend the status quo and felt there was no harm done if we lingered there - I will positively electrocute myself if I've lead you on

c) I truly didn't realize it had become a concern that you might not develop with another what you and I had developed over time - though now I kick myself for not thinking of it

A) It's OK. If I get hurt, that's life. I'm a big girl. I know what I'm in for. I believe that you have to be willing to be hurt to live. The fact we're having this conversation is proof that I can take care of myself in that realm.

B) You just say things that make your ambiguity known. To me, if you say things that imply what you'd do if we were romantically involved, to me it sends a message that may not be what you meant.

C) That was why I told you over a year ago I couldn't be friends. I am inclined to believe that we have the ability to work through that, but I want to address it head on. With Edward, years and years ago, that is exactly what happened. I'm wiser than I was, but that was always the reason when I said I couldn't be your friend.

I am acutely aware of the honor you do me, Connie. I think of it every single day without fail. I know when I'm lucky.

I'm lucky to have someone to share with that I trust. But I don't want you to feel like if I bring stuff up it is a negative. It is actually something my father would love for me to do with him more than anything else on the planet!

"I'm lucky to have someone to share with that I trust."

Xeroxed my brain.

And who said anything you bring or have brought up is a negative?

I started to write: "I hope, believe and observe we are *better* than fine. Much if not all of our complaints fall into the category of "good problems to have". I persist in my unhurried approach. I acknowledge that you may respond to this as if it were a lack of zeal. I wish, without much expectation, that you could see it as a..." and then I paused and thought that oh, Connie, I do see what you want, I do see your unsatisfied craving, and I know you want a partner and I know my wait and see approach is not for you. I swear I never intended to leave you on the hook or disappoint you. And yet I cannot say "move on," because that is not my choice to make.

You know, this weekend, I very nearly, *very nearly* sent you a naughty email - knowing for a fact that you would like it - but I held back, as I always do, because I do not wish to start the sentence I can't finish.

I honestly had no idea you felt you were kept from something - I thought, perhaps, you felt you should... *pause*

I can't say still. I can't pause. I'll die inside. It will feed every single fear and insecurity I have. I remain open to possibilities. If those possibilities ever develop with you, I can't imagine ever wanting more.

But I can't put my life on hold and wait for you--I'd be impatient and frustrated. And frankly, I think I would drive you crazy.

I honestly don't think I'll find what I'm looking for. My biggest fear is I compromise again with someone like me ex, not in the same way, but compromise in a different way, and right when I start to get emotionally involved with him, it would seem like the two of us might have been a possibility and I live the rest of my life wondering what might have been.

All over town there are posters that say "He's Just Not That Into You."

Deep breaths, dear. Days don't matter. Or rather, the ones ahead do not matter as much as the ones behind. I am with you.

Only meant: no urgency, everything is fine, what we have is more valuable than what we risk...

Xoxo

Adore you,

John

And yet, this June:

I told you in the Christmas card that I assume you didn't get--I really did love you, John. So very much. More than I've ever loved anyone not in my family. You are absolutely lovable. And I really, really hope you find someone that you can trust and love and be loved. You deserve that.

Oh Connie, you're so sweet. Who knows how things might have developed had you possessed that kind of candor and bravery back in the window? You know the principal reason I held back was my worry that you were a wuss.

You have a selective memory. I kissed you once. And you turned it into a platonic kiss. And everything was on my blog. [n.b.: John had the URL and regularly read it earlier in our relationship. I asked to tell me either that he was or wasn't reading it, but he didn't and he evidently stopped reading it. I always assumed if he wanted to know how I felt, he would read it again.]

I am guilty of believing my recall is quite comprehensive on at least that and one or two more matters. I'm sorry, I didn't intend to commit some sort of topic necromancy. I was pretty sure we'd talked it to death. I'm not applying the wuss standard purely to the utter absence of courage and will, but to its insufficiency. Hahaha you were able to be open with me, just on your blog? I don't recall dating your blog :)

I'm sorry Connie, and I mean that sincerely, but my restraint was for your protection far more than it was for my own. I'm a bit of a rough ride, and you're a bit of a delicate flower. I often caught myself thinking you might emerge from your chrysalis at some point, which is why I kept (and I suppose in fairness keep) an eye on you. Two when I can spare them.

I knew that I was probably going to be hurt by you, because, for a while, I thought we were soul mates. Cheesy, yes. But true. (And truth be told, part of me is terrified I'll never meet someone I care about as much as you.) And when my friends said "he's going to hurt you" I said 'fine. The only way not to be hurt is to live in a bubble. I need to risk being vulnerable. And I'd rather deal with that, than not go for it." That was one of the bravest things I ever did. I gave so much of myself to you while you rejected me every single time. But whenever you said 'we need more time'--I believed you.

I also have to believe you knew I wanted to be with you. There's no way you didn't. The idea that if I uttered a magic word, when I threw myself at you, multiple times, that's silly. In an ideal world, we'd risk together. So when one person said "I adore you" the other would say "I adore you too." I risked and risked with you. I threw my dignity away and said "take me. I want you." You shouldn't demand that a woman say she loves you, when you aren't willing to return her statement saying "I adore you." It should be together. Not one person jumping off a cliff while the other one watches.

I want to be with someone who wants to be with me too. Not a hypothetical in the future. In actuality. Me. As I am. Flaws and all.

I did tell you I loved you once. I told you I loved you in a conversation where we were both talking about how neither of us believed we were lovable. I told you I loved you and you didn't say anything back.

So don't pin this all on me. It isn't my fault we didn't work out. Don't make me think "oh, if only I hadn't been a wuss." I think we didn't work out because each of us had fears and vulnerabilities that the other one interpreted as rejection at different moments. Either that, or you just weren't physically attracted to me.

John--I wanted some sort of closure with you. Some way to wish each other well. I do wish you well. And really support the other person in their life. To be perfectly honest, I still haven't moved on completely. I'm working on it. But I suppose, until someone touches me as deeply as you did, your impression remains with me. When I broke up with (the guy I dated last year), after nine months, I didn't miss him a bit; I thought of you. I never understood what happened. But I don't think you did either. It was just two flawed, beautiful humans in our flawed beauty. But don't say "if you had been different in this way, it would have worked." I have enough regrets in my life.

Reheated conversation, not unlike chili, sometimes tastes just as good if not better :)

YES, Connie, I have heard you!

- yes I know you spent a whole lot of time thinking that if you looked different things would be better. Yes, I really meant it when I said I liked the way you looked and didn't really care about that 1/1000ths as much as you did.

- Yes I know you thought I didn't trust you to enough to be vulnerable. Yes, I really meant it when I said that I did trust you enough, I just didn't happen to be vulnerable.

- Yes, I know you thought I was keeping you at a slight distance (loose/tight) because I was protecting myself. Yes, I really meant it when I said I was protecting you.

- hahaha YES, it's true that I caught you unready for something when I was rarin' to go. Yes, I really meant it when I said that this established a precedent in our interactions, and felt like I was *always* waiting for you to overcome just one more insecurity, just one more fear, just one more complex, just one more (to my mind) flimsy or imagined obstacle, which were it not for the respect I had (and have) for you, I would have just wrecking-balled through like the tissue paper I perceived each and every one of them to be. But not at your expense.

- I know you say you gave and risked so much, but putting your pinky toe within reach of the water splash is not the same as getting in the pool! Taping a feather to your head does not make you a chicken. Stated willingness to risk is not the same as actually doing it. Blogging your feelings is not the same as sharing them. You often behaved as if you were waiting for some sort of cosmic permission to simply trust me and trust yourself.

- Yes I know you had desire, and I hope you don't think I spent so much time with you because I was bored and needed something to do. I hope, and want very much to believe, that you know I was investing in the possibility of a future. But as above, desire to have something is not the same as capability. You think (yes, yes, a thousand times yes, I HEARD YOU) I was rejecting you, but really (as I said, sincerely, over and over) I was *waiting*.

- the flaws and all thing makes for excellent Lifetime, but in practice there are flaws which impact the viability of the project. If we were to surmount obstacles together, in a partnership, you needed to be able to *cash* those emotional checks you seemed so eager to write.

- and every time you attempted to throw away your dignity, I caught it and gave it back to you gently and with reverence.

*Whew*!

That certainly was exciting!

I love how fresh and alive this all feels (not kidding). You know, you can tell a real friend when you flip the calendar a few times and then pick up the conversation right where it left off :)

Proof we've been thinking of each other :)

Oh and another thing, while we're getting things out of our systems, I thought you were being really arrogant and that is something I have a wee spot of difficulty not going after with a bat. The precise calibration of self-perception is something I prize and respect as a fundamental virtue. Your particular bifurcation differs greatly from mine. In mine, I have come to appreciate that I am the meanest truly nice guy who ever walked the earth. I aspire to virtue, struggle to support the just, believe in anachronisms like honor and restraint and simple altruism. And I'm lucifer's personal hand of vengeance, sent down to strike the unworthy and laugh while he's doing it. I restrain the latter, until the former needs it to do right (or I get the very rare chance to take it out for recreational purposes, only when safe and responsible to do so) and otherwise I leave it in the toolbox.

You're different. Your halves are not *friends*. In some of your modes, you're wishing for the strength of another to gird you and encircle you, for another to lead so that you can be free from presenting an image you don't always feel. In others, you're dealing with the wish that you were stronger and smarter by pretending to be.

I let it go, a bunch of times, often with a mild admonishment quickly moved beyond. I'm sorry, Connie my dear, but what you think you know about the hard sciences you could put in a teacup with honey and hot water. You wouldn't know the first thing about economics if it jumped up and bit you in the face. Years of growing up with a psychologist (a fairly fringe-y one at that) have given you some terrible (and entrenched!) misconceptions about the way human beings think. Your sociology is trapped in a time machine stuck forty years in the past. Your politics are naïve to the point of auto-hate-the-other-guy and ALL of this I can dismiss with a pat on the head.

But the day any highly educated expert speaking on the subject of her own field refuses to explain her position and falls back to simple appeal to authority, actually expecting me to suspend my inquiry without an explanation simply because She Has Spoken, well, there's only so much I can put up with.

I was honestly, truly with you right up to that point. Up to that point I was willing to meander down many a fairly pointless path with you, simply because you were you, and I enjoyed picking daisies with you even though in the main I despised the picking of intellectual daisies as I hate hell and all Montagues. But it was you, and I would rather have been out picking daisies with you.

There were times, and they were many, during which I felt like you didn't entirely respect me. I am secure enough in my self-appraisal not to let that bother me... much. When you tried, for example, to educate me on the deflation spiral and I had to remind you that I read SEC filings for fun, I worried (briefly) that you thought I was much dumber than I am. But attempting a fundamental logic switcheroo on someone for whom logic is a medium of expression? I mean, I *think* in that language. From the base of your worst insecurities, and in defense of your greatest obfuscation of personal weakness, you insulted me. I got the clear impression that when it came time to prop up your fabricated mystique, you'd gladly throw your respect for me under a bus.

Something up with which I will not put. Yes, I understand you're trying to make sure you're respected as an equal. But the lady doth protest too much.

You lost respect for me, I lost respect for you. Fair trade. And it just so happened, life was full enough of its own weighty concerns that I quietly filed the matter under "things to deal with later".

Hmmm. Should I hit send? She's sounding pretty rugged, actually, which pleases me a great deal. I don't want to put cracks in her shell, but then again, I do want to be acknowledged as legitimately entitled to her respect. And I hope, hope, hope she can tell that the part I do *not* respect detracts not one molecule from the part I do. That believing myself to have some insight into her true character means that none of this bullshit is necessary. That if she has one place where she can truly be herself, "flaws and all," as it were, she should *do* so.

Because I will either a) snap down on a persona like a rat trap, or b) attempt, in my way, to deal with it gracefully by not dealing with it at all.

Hmmmm. Thinking thinking...

Oh well, fuck it.

I guess I was waiting for someone indication that you wanted to be in a romantic relationship with me. A kiss, I suppose. You were waiting for me to cash checks as much as I was waiting for you.

I wish you had taken the wrecking ball through the tissue.

Ah, well.

Tears.

Tissues.

Xanax.

Bed.

See, I could never do that, because that would put me at odds with one of your halves.

I could only reach one of them by damaging the other.

Please believe me, I wanted to take a fucking *machete* to the illusions and obstacles. But you worked so hard on them and still felt like you needed them in order to exist. I'm not going to blow your house down. If I did that, how could you know you could trust me?

Only in my restraint could you know that I cared. I would not embrace one half at the cost of the other. I would not embrace the strong, successful, entirely legitimate but incomplete Lady Chatterley, eligible bachelorette, world traveler, talented, glib, heroic... and leave innocent, vulnerable, delicate Connie out in the cold. I would not embrace the girl who longs for a Sir to keep her safe and love her, and show disrespect to the illustrious Lady Chatterley Esq.

Sadly, the only way I could show that I cared for you was by not giving either half what it wanted, because I, perhaps uniquely, perceive and care very much for *both*.

Hahaha and I wish you had been ready, truly ready, for the wrecking ball :)

I'm glad I got through everything. Somehow, or other, it seems to be helping. I realized that John and I could never have worked if I'd just been different. He would have had to have been different too. The things that bothered him, about my 'arrogance'--I really think that if that conversation had happened in person, or if he'd had a better day, it wouldn't have struck him that way. I did mention an accomplishment, but only in a "please don't put down my professional life" kind of way. He didn't reach out to me. He shut me off. There was a big fight we had in March of 2009, where he just refused to speak to me, and I sent him a copy of the e-mail about brainstorming how not to get hurt and said 'don't shut me out--you think I said something and I think I said something different--let's at least, please, talk through this.' And he did. But 2 weeks later, when he put down my professional life, I was pissed and hurt, and this his mother got sick and it all fell apart.

I never understood what happened. But I don't think he did either. It was just two flawed, beautiful humans in our flawed beauty.

I intend to actually reread my blog from the past few years, and I'm sure that will bring up some stuff. Then I want to write 2 more blog posts on this: one for what I'd like to say to John and one for what I'd like John to say to me.

And then, comes the next test. To appreciate John. To learn from John. And to let him go. Really and truly. He wanted me to be spectacular when I integrate, when I come out of my chrysalis. He wanted me to get cosmic permission to believe in myself. And I will do my best to do that.

Weirdest Dream

Sting (the rock singer, who looks just like John in my dream) came to a work meeting to discuss how to use creative writing to improve client participation in the process. (Of course, Sting would come to something like that.) And people were reading something I wrote, but they didn't know it was mine and they were making fun of it. At the party afterwards, Sting started singing and I joined it, not even realizing he was Sting the rock singer, until later. So we sang "If you love somebody, set them free."

If you need somebody, call my name
If you want someone, you can do the same
If you want to keep something precious
You got to lock it up and throw away the key
If you want to hold onto your possession
Don't even think about me

If you love somebody, set them free

Free, free, set them free.

So Sting and I started flirting and I went back to his hotel room and we fucked, which was kind of lousy. And I went in the bathroom to and still had a dildo in me and realized we didn't fuck. I asked him and he said he wasn't up to sex, but he thought it was what I wanted. And I felt the same way. So we fell asleep in each other's arms.

In the morning, he was gone, so I got dressed and started to write a note and he came back in. He was upset I was leaving and I pointed out the note and he pointed out it didn't have a number on it.

Then he and I became really good friends, and we kept sleeping together, sort of platonically and I got to know his daughter and she was like 12 and we all became kind of a family. But a platonic one.

It felt like a healing dream. Of course, I think this is much more about John than Sting.

I did 'set him free' but not in my heart. From the moment we got in-depth, I just loved him and wanted him so badly.

I think there are three things I'm looking at right now:

1. I want to know if John actually cared about me. Did he really not pursue things because he didn't want to hurt me, or did he not pursue things because he didn't want me? I can sort of live with the former. And the fact that he kept my ring, that he contacted me a week before he died, that he told his friend I was his soulmate, all those things point in that direction. But something was missing, it seems. It wasn't soup. And I can't help but feeling like there was something wrong with me that kept it from being soup.
2. I ache for the sharing I had with John. I think that's why I'm back to this blog so much. Of course, no one reads this blog. It gives me complete anonymity, and also enough of a sense of structure to put my thoughts in order, and I think it is overall useful. But it is very lonely that I pour my heart out and no one cares.
3. I don't know how to develop intimacy without sharing introspection. I know that is not the usual way relationships develop in the country. But it is the only way I know. But it leaves me profoundly vulnerable.

I think I'm scared to love again

When I was 17 I had a one night stand. He was 23, and he got me very drunk and we fucked and I was SO ashamed of what I'd done. So very ashamed.

Two days later, my dog died. We buried her in the backyard under a tree we planted over her. And for 2 weeks, I slept on her grave, curled around the trunk, hoping for a sign. Intellectually, I knew that my one night stand didn't lead her to die. I can't believe in a God that would kill an animal to punish a person who loved that animal. But I also knew that I could have spent that night with her. And I loved her so much. I kept hoping to have some sense of her. And there was nothing.

Today, I was taking our equivalent of the 'El' train home, listening to the soundtrack from The Piano, sobbing hysterically, but silently in the corner of the train. A lovely older women brought me a tissue. Wow--look, it's a crazy white lady having a nervous breakdown. In high school, I'd at least make it to the piano practice room and sit under the piano to sob hysterically, but I couldn't make it home today.

After college, there was a man (call him Edwin) that I did love, and we spent all our time together, but he never liked me 'that way.' Of course, he'd run his hands through my hair, or kiss me on the eyes. But no, he wasn't romantically interested. And he would bemoan the fact that no woman was romantically interested in him. To me. Knowing I was romantically interested in him. I guess I didn't qualify as a woman.

And with John. Fuck. I don't know how to find the strength to ever try and love again. I don't have it in me. I'm all used up.

After he got laid off, I would have been happy to support him. I would have given him anything he wanted or needed. If only he'd wanted and needed me. Or maybe he did. Edwin said maybe if I'd had the courage to ask him out. John said if only I'd had the courage to tell him how I felt. But I'm enough a product of this patriarchy to believe that a woman doesn't win a man by caring about him. If I thought it would have helped, hell I would have sky written it. The last night I saw John, we were at the train station, on different tracks and I was crying hysterically and all I wanted to do was run over to his track and tell him I loved him. But would that have made any difference?

I feel like I love more intensely than other people I know. I feel like it is this crazy defect and it hurts me so deeply. I don't know how to face going through this again. I should be more careful in how I give my heart. But it doesn't necessarily listen to me. And so I try to protect myself in ways that may not be all that effective.

"I would rather not touch such a sublime soul, than touch it at the risk of besmirching it."

This set of e-mails, over 2 days, pretty much sums up John's and my relationship. I still don't understand if he cared about me, if he was making up the stuff about how great I was to try and make it seem nicer. But then, 4 months after this, we were together every weekend and he referred to it, on several occasions, as dating. None of it makes sense. I want to at least understand why.

From our e-mails: Jan: 11, 2009

You're just... amazing. You're in Sevilla learning Spanish and taking Flamenco lessons while chatting about poetry and sharing introspect. You're amazing. Nobody else can do that.

(it's part of why I am pretty sure I'm not good enough for you!)

In my entire life, you are the only man with whom I've ever been somewhat kind of, sort of possibly romantically involved that I felt was not a compromise in any way, shape or form. I just feel lucky to know.

I'm lucky to know you as well Connie, truly. I think the world is a better place with you in it. Hell, I'll go a bit more than that and say you've changed my view of the world a little bit. I had more or less given up hope that anyone existed who was as bright, as clever, as versatile, as good-hearted, as useful and as interesting as I think you are. The fact that you're god's gift to conversationalists hasn't gone unnoted.

I do feel I would be doing a disservice were I not to address the "involved" issue. It's hard for me to do so because I know how you interpret anything but a yes, as a rejection. I also know you're uncomfortable in conditions of ambiguity or processes the outcome of which is unknown. These, of course, fate not lacking a sense of humor, are precisely the conditions in which I'm most natural, conditions so ubiquitous in my natural habitat that I'm unlikely even to notice them unless I'm specifically on the lookout. Going all the way back to the frog-and-scorpion analogy of long ago, it's like I don't notice the broad expanse of dry, heated rock where I live. But a frog would notice the hell out of that. I must, and do, constantly remind myself that I place you in conditions you find uncomfortable, and it vexes me, and often makes me worry that I'm doing the wrong thing. *I don't know what is going to happen*. I seldom if ever concern myself with such questions. I honestly have no idea and don't much care. Were you and I both to perish in an asteroid collision, one of my several last thoughts would be "damn, was it ever a lucky break to meet and get to know Connie," and I wouldn't feel like I missed a damned thing.

But I know that's only my perspective, and I know you could indeed feel that something was missing, and though I would never yield to the temptation to *behave* dishonestly with you, I do acknowledge that I am, in my honesty, failing to deliver something you desire.

I remain, vexed and honestly,

Yours, John

John,

Damn--I need some booze to have this conversation, preferably on a fire escape.

I said "Some what kind of sort of possibly." I know that we don't have any set path for what we're doing. I think the only unspoken commitment we've given each other is to be open about wherever we are. And if we happen to have a fight, I hope we'll work it out and not just disappear on the other person. And if you are clear that nothing can work with us, you'd give me a pat on my head and tell me to see other people. And if I came to that realization, I'd do the same.

I don't know what's going to happen either. I do feel that you and I are meant to explore something together. *But I don't know what that something is.* Maybe we'll end up billing each other for therapy sessions and turn into each other's shrinks. (Do you think our medical insurance would cover it? I could quit consulting!) Maybe we will decide to date and after 3 months, it will turn out something else crazy means we just can't do it. I turn into an albino and develop an allergic reaction to testosterone, or we're just on completely different pages. Maybe if we ever kiss, it will be like in Back to the Future and feel like we're kissing our siblings. And we won't have much to do with each other for a year until we're both really involved with other people so that we don't sabotage our chances at romance with others and then we'll be godparents to each other's kids. I think there might be other possibilities too, but I know damn well there isn't a set path. If I'd wanted a set path, I would have gone to Bob Jones University, married at 21 and have 12 kids by now.

I would ask that you let me consider what is good enough for me, however. And know that I will let you know when I'm upset, and that you talk with me when you're upset with me till we've worked things out because I have my little perfection complex.

I think, for some reason, that my insecurities and your insecurities bump up against each other in the dark. I don't know if you realize what an incredible gift the personal intimacy that we have is to me. I never thought I'd find that. I used my blog to try and make up for the fact that I thought it was impossible to have with another human. That, combined with your incredible joy (sometimes devilishy, but nearly always joy) and vitality, is amazing. I never thought someone like you existed.

The fact that we are different (I hated that animated video--it was so violent--you hated the ice-skating--so what?) that's OK! The Ex was on parole for half the time we lived together and I kept saying "No--you can't commit felonies from our apartment." That was a really hard limit for me (for obvious reasons). I always wanted to be someone's "partner in crime" until it was real crime. But what should have been a hard limit was the way I just kind of numbed out inside to stay with him.

John, the fact that I find you incredibly special, the fact that I think you feel the same, that doesn't mean I want to get married tomorrow. I want to explore and see what happens. What is kind of sort of maybe possible.

I couldn't "just date" you, Connie. I don't know why, but I would not be able to do that. I would feel I was dishonoring you. I know the pain I would feel were I to mess things up for you, or bring you less than joy, would be too horrible to contemplate. It would be like finding a magical pool that restores vitality and brings enlightenment, and then accidentally peeing in it. Perhaps I risk analogyphilia, but you are like the curator has offered me a chance to touch a page from Audubon's hand drawings. I have a reasonable expectation that were I to touch that, I would do so with the utmost respect, the ultimate care. But then I know myself to be a careless person, a bit of a menace. You are one thing I would never fuck up, Connie. I would rather not touch such a sublime soul, than touch it at the risk of besmirching it.

Maybe this perfection thing you've been working on has been too successful. You're pretty perfect.

LOL--I literally laughed. I'm SO Not perfect. Would you like a list?

John, don't put me on a pedestal. I'm just as much a freak as you. That's why we clicked. How many other people do you know that don't have a television? We are both refugees from the morass of America culture.

John, my dad is a shrink. You would do me a great disservice if you were to seal me in a hermetic bubble to try to keep me from being hurt. Sooner or later, we will both hurt each other. I think it is inevitable. The only way to avoid being hurt is to not love, numb yourself with television, alcohol, prozac and a few joints. But It is part of living vitally and honestly and with integrity that we risk.

It is how we deal with it afterward that defines us. If I'm over-sensitive about something stupid, do you say "well you shouldn't be over-sensitive" or do you say "Oh, I'll try not to push that button again."

You've taught me to be able to confide in someone. To trust someone, truly and fully. Someone I'm not even paying by the hour!

It seems to me like you have this view of yourself that you mess things up (and I'm sorry if I'm saying that wrong), and I have this view of myself that I'm ultimately unlovable as who I am, and have to pretend to be someone else. But I've never seen evidence of what you do that makes you think you break things you don't mean to break. But you've said something along those lines all the way back to pre-Fernando days.

Even though I'm really insecure in some areas, I'm really strong in a lot of other areas. I really am John. Let me take care of myself, and listen when I tell you what I need.

YOU are not perfect. Hahahaha, pardon me, hahahaha, pardon me for laughing. YOU are not perfect. You're brilliant, you're enlightened, you're intrepid, you're worldly, you're successful, you're humble, you're fun, you're stylish, you're adventurous, you're organized, you're brave, you're honest and you're cute as a god damned button.

Look. I'm intimidated by precisely zero things on this god damned planet. But you? Connie Chatterley? You should be in the fucking Louvre.

You just don't know me well enough. (Thank god--the Louvre would be SO boring!!!!!)

OK: You want the list?

I numb out on video games. I'm not living up to my full potential.
I get too excited by ideas. Obsessively, at the expense of human emotions.
I insist on "facts," sometimes at the expense of human emotions.
I cut corners at work.
I shouldn't be where I'm at. I'm so much smarter than my colleagues, but I don't finish things, so I haven't accomplished as much as I should. (I don't like my job, so that's part of why I think I should be elsewhere.)
Oh, did I mention I'm a snob?
I have way too much stuff.
My house is a mess. I don't like housework.
Fundamentally, I have a lazy streak.
I don't eat as healthily as I should. Lean Cuisine and too many sweets.
I have kidney disease.
I'm not in the socially accepted norm of "beautiful."
I don't actually fit in to almost all the socially accepted norms.
I'm impatient.
I'm too earnest.
I'm too demanding.
I make people uncomfortable.
I've never been in love and no one has ever been in love with me.

And that's the cliff notes version!

You just like the fact that we're both outside the socially accepted norms. But I'm a huge freak.

You only THINK you are, and the thinking you are is part, a large part, of why you are!

All of this, ALL of it, falls into the category of "failing to be even more superior to ordinary people"

John, you and I, I think, are both just outside the social norm. And what you think about me, I think about you.

Part of the reason I told you long ago that I couldn't be platonic friends with you is because I couldn't imagine anyone else living up to you, and I thought being friends with you would always mean I would compare other men to you and no one else could come close.

Sister, I ain't all that :)

You are on the things that matter most to me. Who else could share poetry and introspection and be SO fucking smart? And joyful and vital with light in his eyes?

I couldn't "just date" you, Connie. I don't know why, but I would not be able to do that. I would feel I was dishonoring you. I know the pain I would feel were I to mess things up for you, or bring you less than joy, would be too horrible to contemplate.

John,

I hope you can change this point of view. I hope like hell we can "just date" and see what happens! There's no way I can know what would happen unless we "just date" even if you magically did. And if 'just dating' goes well, maybe we start "not seeing other people" and then consider living together. And then, how knows? But I don't know that I could jump the step of just dating.

John, my ex hurt me in some ways--mostly, by trying to fit me into this ideal submissive he read about on-line who has no needs and lives only to please him and the occasional "good girl" was more than enough. But we were good friends and John, I'm SO glad I knew him!!! Even if I'm more messed up as a "submissive," I'm much more whole as a "woman." I am so much a more vital and whole person having lived with him. I'm terribly glad I didn't marry him. But I don't think I could have been enough together to actually be able to see someone like you if I hadn't met him.

In my opinion, we both feel like there might be a possibility, and I would love to play it out and see where it goes. Honestly, John, I would be much more able to get over you and move on with my life if we "just date" and it doesn't work, because I would understand why, instead of a little interior monologue that goes something liked: "What's wrong with me? I don't understand what is wrong with me, and why didn't he ever want to go out on dates, did I say something wrong? what did I do wrong that he didn't tell me, and it's because I'm not pretty enough, isn't it, yes that must be it, that's the only thing that makes, sense, why oh why, can't I be pretty? Maybe I should get plastic surgery. No, that's stupid" And then reread everything we ever wrote for the one sentence I said that was wrong.

I know we're very different. Maybe I don't know all the vast expanses of hot dry rock, but I do know some of it. I also know what we share is pretty wonderful, and yes, I would continue to have my own life in a wet, sticky pond, and you would continue to have yours on the hot rock, and we'd share something pretty wonderful in the time we're together, and hopeful that would start to be more frequent. And then we build a little house on the beach.

Connie, I’m sorry, and I reiterate that I'm worried about discussing the subject because I know you feel rejected, but it's the simple truth that I couldn't. It would be dishonest of me. It would be my playing along with something I didn't believe in. It would be... rude. I know it sounds like fun, and like it might even be possible for you and I to be less than serious with each other, but seriously can you picture anything light *and* deep happening between you and I? It's a contradiction in terms. To me the logic is both simple and inescapable. Were it to be light and not very serious, *it would not be you and I*. Not really, anyway. It would be a depiction.

It's no fault of any kind, much less a fault of anyone, that you and I have a highly pleasant but also dagger-deep and very highly serious friendship. That it remains fraught with peril has not escaped me. We couldn't play without playing for keeps, and I think, or rather believe, we have both realize that. We would not, as they say, be content merely fucking around. There are people, as Churchill might have put it, around with whom you do not fuck. It's a lucky thing, a very lucky thing, to actually meet one of these. But just as you're not someone I could take lightly, I'm not someone you could take lightly. And if things were heavy, there would be a lot on the line for both of us.

I know this hurts your feelings and I know you feel deprived. I hope you can see the great care and caution that I exercise when it comes to you.

No--I don't feel hurt or deprived. But I feel like you have me on a pedestal, and if it can only ever be "for keeps" it will never be, because that's a leap I don't think anyone can make. Maybe I'm wrong, but that's my gut feeling. I climbed most of a volcano today, and I felt like Frodo at the base of mount doom. I didn't make it to the top, but I made it about 50 meters from the top. One step at a time. It seemed impossible to make it as far as I did (and I feel like it was very risky, and if I'd known what I was in for, I'd never have done it!) But one step at a time.

But hey, whoever needs more time, always gets it--that's the cardinal rule, right?

A couple of afterthoughts--
I'm honored and touch and delighted that you consider me as you do. And I assume you know that I reciprocate in my own way.

I do want you to let go of the "what you think I deserve" issue. The only time I seriously reassessed our friendship in the last few months was after our little e-mail spat about me sending obnoxious links and then you kind of disappeared when you were upset and I felt horrible and a little frantic. But I told you, and you got it. You totally got it. And then, when you were upset with me for interrupting (another one of my faults, btw)--and then you phrased it in a way that I could deal with, and you gave me what I need.

What I have always been scared to want, because it seemed impossible to find, was someone willing to plumb the depths and also willing to do honest, really, engaged conflict resolution when it came up. And someone willing to support my dreams and let me support his. And if he didn't have a TV, that would be a really lovely bonus, although, I always thought, absolutely impossible to find, so I never even considered it as a possibility.

It is true--if I were to have a magic wand--I would make you quit smoking. (OK, I'd fix your bad back too--but only because I know it causes pain. And global warming too. Global warming first--so when global warming is solved--beware of magic wands in your direction!) But that is much more about greediness for the future. And I accept that that is a decision you, as an adult, have made. And I've dated men 15 years older than me, and never thought to wave a magic wand, and hopefully smoking is an issue of less than 15 years. And I'd rather know you for 35 years than anyone else for 50. I don't like the smoking, but I accept it.

But there's nothing else about you I would change John. Nothing at all. OK--if I could, without changing you one iota, I'd give you a happy childhood. And maybe give you a burning desire to see me perform once in a blue moon. But I wouldn't really, because I'd be scared it would change who you are. And who you are is extraordinary.

So, I totally understand that you have no idea what the future brings, and neither of us can say "for keeps" now. So please, unless you have any felony convictions, or future planned felonies, or you're actually in the mob and they will kill anyone you get involved with, don't worry about what you think I deserve. I'm a smart girl. And as I see it, you are far more than I ever hoped to find.

One last thing--when you say you think I'm perfect--it plays into my perfectionism issues. I so know I'm not perfect--I really do. And when you say that, I think if (when) you find out I'm not, you won't care about me anymore.

haha I said *pretty* perfect, not perfect :)

Well, you're pretty perfect too.

January 13, 2009

I want to address what you said in more detail. I'm not interested in the idea of exploratory dating. We have enough exploration behind us, to know enough to know enough. I enjoy spending time with you, and I don't mind keeping a finger in the air to see if the winds change
direction, but this is different from dating.

I'm sorry that sounds so blunt! I was trying to write for simple, direct clarity, but I know it makes me sound like a brute.

No--I appreciate your being straight forward. Just to clarify, right now, you enjoy being friends, but you don't see other possibilities, but if that changes you'll let me know? That's fine--I really do appreciate clarity. [n.b. I was in hysterics as I wrote that paragraph.]

Not entirely accurate - I do see potential (I would be blind not to see it)...

"When the wind changes" to me, that is language of Mary Poppins and magic. Of wanting things that you don't happen unless divine intervention appears and things change drastically.

I can't speak to drastically Connie. Sometimes I think to myself "All of the ingredients are there - why isn't this soup?"

Perspective

So, I just got to John's and my first big fight (in the e-mails). It was, of course, over whether inflation or deflation was a greater threat to the economy at that time (December, 2008--After the TARP and bank bail-outs, before Obama's inauguration).

So we had a huge discussion, starting with the auto-bailouts and the TARP (6 pages, single-spaced) and then inflation vs. deflation (5 pages). Pretty far into it, he said: "I'm enjoying the debate." He was very tough with me, but it was fun: "Silly Connie- inflation doesn't reduce the cost of debt, it *increases* the cost of debt - it's just the means by which a nation with unimpeachable credit obtains service of debt." There are some places where I still think I was right, mostly that we (the U.S.) won't turn into Zimbabwe because when we borrow money, it is accounted for in our currency and we seem to be the investment of last choice. But whatever, I don't actually care about the issue nearly as much as I care about understanding the relationship with John.

Anyway, then we had this exchange:

shit hahaha if you want my opinion you will be *dreaming* of deflation before this is all over :)

But, if we have inflation, it could be over in a year or two. Deflation would mean we were looking at a decade.

oookay where on earth are you getting *that* idea

Well, the Great Depression (not the good one, the GREAT one) is considered to have been started by a deflationary spiral.

Lower prices led to lower production, which led to lower wages which led to lower demand which led to lower prices which led to lower production, which led to lower wages which led to lower demand which led to lower prices which led to lower production, which led to lower wages which led to lower demand which led to lower prices which led to lower production, which led to lower wages which led to lower demand which led to lower prices which led to lower production, which led to lower wages which led to lower demand which led to lower prices which led to....

Inflation sucks, but a deflationary spiral is a lot harder to get out of.

http://www.salon.com/tech/htww/2008/12/16/interest_rates/

John was furious with me. Just furious. At the time he said:

Constance, you made your point, okay? I'm crystal clear, *crystal clear* that you share this opinion. You're belaboring the point. Yes I know what a deflationary spiral is. Honestly.

Gotchya--sorry.

You're frustrating me a little. You're sending me... stuff like this. A blurby one-liner from salon.com? Honestly.... Sometimes I think that you think I'm dumber than I am. This happens to be a subject I know a bit about. I'm not proclaiming myself a leading authority or something, but the basis for my position is a little more bolstered than "I saw it on TV? One time? And like this guy said?" I am not snapping my gum over the shoulder of the engineers saying I heard once that bridges can totally fall down. My understanding of the fundamentals is substantially stronger than needing a cliff note on how a deflationary spiral is defined. I've studied the topic with intensivity and extensivity. I read SEC proceedings recreationally for crying out loud. I understand, and can explain, the role of bond arbitrage in the liquidity shortfall of long term capital management. I read Greenspan's book and if you care to discuss the artificial demand curve in collateralized debt obligations and unforeseen impact on bond insurance, I can do so. Do not, and I'm asking this as your friend and as someone who would like to continue what has thus far been at least an entertaining dialogue, condescend.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to annoy you. I thought you thought I'd made this up out of thin air and had no basis to my opinion. I've never thought you were dumber than me on anything. If anything, I think you're mind is sharper and quicker.

Well, in your zeal to show me that you had some basis, you seemed to suggest that my knowledge was in need of simplified remediation.

I am sorry. I have a friend who calls me after Keith Olbermann to scream at me what Olbermann said (even though she knows I listen to it) and it drives me nuts, so I can see why it annoyed you. I'll try not to do it again.

I follow this stuff. Religiously, at least for the time being. There is unlikely to be anything on salon.com which isn't derived from secondary sources of which I am already wayyyy ahead.

I will do my very best to remember not to forward you anything. And, if you find good stuff you think I should read, please do feel free to forward it to me. I like it.

I told you I fuck stuff up. I don't even know when I'm doing it until it is done. It happens. I hate it when people I love are angry with me."

So no response. The next day, I apologized again, and he said: "not mad - wasn't mad - a little frustrated is all, I got it off my chest, everything is fine." But it wasn't. The week before he died he said: "There were times, and they were many, during which I felt like you didn't entirely respect me. I am secure enough in my self-appraisal not to let that bother me... much. When you tried, for example, to educate me on the deflation spiral and I had to remind you that I read SEC filings for fun, I worried (briefly) that you thought I was much dumber than I am."

Clearly, I really did something very wrong from his point of view. The thing is, I still don't see it. The preceding 11 pages of discussion had a similar playful, 'here's what I think.' He called me 'silly' and I didn't take offense. I felt like he thought I'd made up deflationary concerns the way a child makes up a monster under a bed. I didn't necessarily want him to agree with me, but I wanted him to say something like "well, it is possible, but I don't think probable." I guess we each felt like the other didn't respect our own point of view. (We also had a fundamental difference that I tend to rely on authorities and that annoyed him, but my work is so based in citing precedent, that I do it without thinking about it. When I asked him what I should read, it was because I do rely on authorities. I guess he wanted me to rely on him as an authority.

I still don't know what happened there, but I know that he got really mad at me, and then wouldn't take my apology (I totally stopped after he gave any hint he was mad) and then wasn't willing to really talk it out. I'm OK with the first, but, ideally, I want someone who would be willing to talk about what happened until they weren't mad at me any more. Until they could really let it go.

Anyway, it is useful to see where we went all wrong. I love John very much; but I don't think it does either of us any good if I put him on a pedestal.

On the bright side: I've lost 5 pounds since I found out John died. OOooohh--great diet! (Part of me feels guilty, like I shouldn't benefit from his death in any way. Not in losing weight, or self discovery, or peace. That his death should be total grief, forever. I'm not trying to benefit. God knows, I'd do anything to change it. But if I can find a way to find peace and closure, then I do need to do that. And if I'm so depressed I'm not eating, well, better that than an extended ménage à trois with Ben and Jerry and me.