Author and Columnist
Much has happened since we last spoke, and yet very little of it real.
And little of which you chronicle below, which is beyond frustrating. What is the point of this if not to set down a record of your life? Reactions with no context are meaningless and annoying to future readers (e.g., me).
I do not think it is an ability I wish to have boosted. It was nearly painful, and an unwelcome coupling with my near frantic, conflicted energy of today.
You don't have superpowers, buddy. You might have had a minor manic episode. Fun, yes, but a symptom rather than an asset.
Speaking of senses, I am increasingly losing my ability to focus my eyes and shall soon need glasses. Promise you'll love me all the more for it?
I am not going to love you for your difficulty in looking into the distance. As a metaphor, it would have saved you a lot of trouble if you could have looked beyond a few feet in front of your face.
You do look good in glasses, though.
I met with a cyber friend, with whom I share mutual acquaintances. It was different than I expected, irrationally like a first date in its level of awkwardness. When I am awkward socially, I blather on until I reach exhaustion or some manner of middle ground. I am not terribly sure where I got this time.
I have absolutely no idea who this might have been. Where did you encounter them? Can you give me even a gender?
Do you comprehend how this is beyond useless and could have made for an entry that is worth my dissection and response?
This entry is not terribly interesting. Well, it would be if I were telling you everything about what is occurring in my life, but I am not.
Take your lumps and be captivating. Over the years, people will be furious with you for what you wrote, and some of them will be right to. It is better having your recollections down, even when they do not accord to what other people experienced, than being this mealy-mouthed about it.
At 8PM, I will see her for the first time since the Rent/ Shakespeare/ hormone/ aesthetic sense inspired kissing/ singing/ holding/ dancing/ smirkingatoneanotheradoringconfusingtogetherinawaythatisnottogether. We are going to a rather lovely little inn for a late, romantic, and quite-a-bit-more-that-friendly dinner.
I don't think this ended up happening. I would hope I would remember such an inn. I recall spending time at a bookstore with Eileen, blushing and flipping through books until she had to excuse herself for home. Is that what substituted?
She seemed to understand, though she wishes she could see the handwritten letter than contains this confession (she extracted it from me when she worried that my feelings for her were weakening and I had to inform her it was quite the opposite).
Yes, Eileen's feelings toward you are conflicted. She doesn't know what she wants from you, even if you think you know what you want of her. This is not news.
So tomorrow, dear journal readers (You all need one name. Submit your suggestions for a name below), you shall have a fuller plate than tonight. Right now you have carrot sticks and ranch dressing. Make do.
You aren't cute enough to be a tease. Give the people as much of the story as you can so that the promise of more means something.
Last night, Kate asked for me to call her (which is actually far more significant than it sounds, but you'll have to take my word for it). She said she needed to speak, though on no particular subject. So I acquiesced, especially as Eileen has already gone to bed and I had grown quite tired of doing work.
Is it wrong that it is a relief that you have gone so long without mentioning direct contact with Kate? Granted, much of what I have responded to has been reconstituted letters, mainly to the young lady you are trying to charm into being your girlfriend; it would hardly benefit you to mention your ex conspicuously.
Miss Katherine told me how she missed talking to me, missed me being around (Have I really been neglecting her that much? I do hope not), and such. I was certainly flattered, I wasn't sure I still meant that much (or much of anything) to her.
You do, and you don't.
There is an echo of your predicament with Eileen in this contact with Kate. When you are least available to them, they are more interested in your company. When you are explicit about how you feel, they retreat. (I am not implying that Kate is trying to woo you back, simply that she prefers you dilute. Too great a concentration, and she is overwhelmed.) I hope you are not implying that, Kate likely having read your few pure entries, she realized that you had wiggled off her hook by wanting in another's boat. I'm not saying that played no part in it -- I can't tell beyond what would be the case in fiction -- but I want you not to have that idea.
So Kate was quite alone and had due time to miss me.
Exactly. Bereft her bad/fun influences, you become more desirable company, at least intellectually.
We spoke with great breadth and depth, perhaps too great. The details of the conversation, of course, are private and shall not be revealed here.
Since when do you respect people's privacy? I suppose this is forgivable, but it makes for poor retrospective storytelling. Surely you could have snuck a topic sentence for your readers.
I should say here, just so there is no confusion or tense feelings, that it does make me love her all the better (as a dear friend, not more) that she is willing to share with me, even when I do not like what she is saying. Perhaps especially then.
A drug, ibogaine, supposedly ends addiction by dint of stopping the receptors that crave the addictive substance. After taking it, the person amid a nicotine fit can still smoke, but the cigarette does nothing for them.
I wish we could have injected you with it, side effects be damned. Kate could have been a great friend, but you still had the recovered junkie's belief that you can handle being around her because you wouldn't relapse this time. If you could have ended any strain of the addiction and truly loved Kate as only a friend, you would have been so much happier.
Kate did not seem quite as fond to see me as she had on the phone the prior night or even when I called her to confirm that I was coming over. I would say I was disappointed, but I had somewhat expected it. She wasn't unhappy to see me by any stretch. Just not as close emotionally as I would have like.
You are easier to handle when you are not in person. Over the phone, she can coo to you, and nothing of substance can happen. In-person, the wrong word or gesture could have ended up in an awkward sexual situation, the fallout of which would coat both your lives for a few weeks (yours more than hers; you care for someone else and want a relationship).
The rest of the night does not really bear repeating. Some was pleasant, some was decidedly unpleasant. Mostly it was uneventful, but that little matters.
Yes, it absolutely does bear repeating! What is the point of writing this if you intend to be coy and evasive? I want quoted dialogue and narration, not the abridged version.
This journal is more a catalog of the feelings and thoughts behind my life, not a play-by-play of the events of it.
How could you be so wrong?