What’s a personal mantra or philosophy you live by?
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You just have to live it.
One of the things that really got me fired up in my relationship with Aada is that she thought I liked what I wrote. That writing what I did made me happy. Oh, no- I was doubled over in emotional pain most of the time and she acted like I felt joy. That’s because what I had to say was hard to hear, so of course to her it sounded like vengeance. Wailing often does if you take it personally. She walked away, made the commitment not to take it personally, then read me the riot act over and over again.
I was so sick of it I couldn’t stand it, because my mental health took a nosedive. Of course it did- my writing was being painted as a pack of lies and I was being accused of manipulating people and making things up. Meanwhile, Pinkerton couldn’t be bothered to get off her couch to see what the problem was.
What I have learned is that it’s a power dynamic. People who cannot be emotionally vulnerable have an instinct to doubt the other person’s sanity. Gaslighting was a huge theme in our relationship because it took so much work to maintain that stupid lie, including making me think I could be interesting when I wasn’t- they didn’t even know each other (the conflict out of context). Aada just didn’t want to be caught with her pants down- one subject had nothing to do with the other except she created it out of thin air.
And someone noticed.
Aada couldn’t be arsed to care about my feelings. She reacted to being written about, but she didn’t say things like, “I hear you,” or “that was a valid observation, but let me give you some context.” No, everything was all about how I was crazy.
I totally am, but not about this.
Moreover, when people actually struggle with mental health issues, punching down is bad form. That being said, I got the feeling that she was mirroring me. She was not bringing her whole self to the table. She raged against my narrative instead of writing her own…. what I actually wanted out of her and what she didn’t understand. She spent 12 years berating me for having an opinion instead of meeting me at altitude.
It’s what happens when one person is people-pleasing and so is the other, but in ways that they can’t see. For instance, I would disagree with Aada, yet remember every little thing about her down to the most minute detail so that when I was shopping for her birthday or Christmas the gift would actually mean something. I would constantly try to make Aada smile with something I wrote, or cry, and sometimes I did. But in Aada’s mind, all of that was too confusing so skip over most of it and meet the rest with defense.
I have survived a very long time on pointed silence. Aada has never had to stop communicating with me officially for me to feel lonely- I was lonely even when she was right there. But none of my story ever invalidates what she has to say, and in fact the whole damn problem is that it’s my narrative. I am missing the other half, the part that Aada hasn’t written. It is my hope that she’s writing it now… not a story about me, but the story of her life thus far. She writes but not like me. It would change her from the inside out if she did, but she says it’s too hard and it hurts too much- or she did when she was in her 40s. I hope that the time that has passed has given her more of a “fuck it” attitude.
The criticism I have of Aada is that she will show her talent when she can take off the mask, because you read her and it’s all you see if you know her real life story vs. what she is willing to say about herself.
I’d rather be In True Face.
I’d rather be Leslie, who can take all the slings and arrows thrown at them because of course they’re true- I’m human. If you are expecting perfection, there are a hundred other blogs I can recommend. Go read Wil, SHIIIIIIAT.
If my blog is triggering to you, change the channel. Many people do. But don’t be surprised if you still come up in my memory, because contrary to popular belief when people stop reading, I do not forget they exist as well. Some people don’t even think time passes, and will read the entry about Richmond tomorrow and think I’m still at the kitchen table. 10 YEARS from now, people will think I’m at that Richmond kitchen table.
And I might be? I don’t even buy green bananas, but I do know that my relationship with Jaz and her daughter is supposed to last. Her daughter is already bonded to me and told me that she would miss me when I went back to Baltimore. And I need solid friends, so it works out well. As I’ve said, I’m open to romance. I just don’t bond to people I don’t know well and I’ve stopped trying to create romance after what essentially feels like one job interview.
I want to know where your head is at. Beauty is just “congratulations on your face.”
Beautiful is a dime a dozen, but cute is dangerous.
My friend Phil said that to me about my first wife, and I’ve never forgotten it. Words to live by, really. But with me, I don’t notice beauty and get sprung. Beauty reveals itself over time as you become the face I love.
The only woman I’ve ever loved that is beautiful in the magazine sense is Aada. People comment on it, it’s not just me. But the reason for it is simple. I did not meet her face. I met her mind. Therefore, she might have been beautiful as fuck. I didn’t know it. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I can tell when people are pretty in a picture. I just cannot quantify it like I can when people come with animation…… and I also never looked at her picture while I was writing…. the only way I would have visualized anything because my brain wasn’t born with that feature.
So, all in all I have no idea what she looks like and have probably passed her on the street and never knew it.
Just let me know that you’ve seen my house
My heart is hurting because she said, “I hope it was all worth it.” She meant outing her. As what? A liar? In a lot of ways, that makes me feel the most humiliated…. that I couldn’t handle a snake bite when I agreed to handle a snake.
Don’t hate the player.
Hate the game.
