I wrote something about Supergrover that made me realize I was saying it about her, but later something I identified within myself as well. I often find that most of Supergrover is me, but I don’t know that for sure. That I know I’m describing her, but I don’t know that I’m describing me until I read and reflect. This is not a gossip column, this is self-help. I know that she laughs and cries with me over this from a distance. We both participated. We both lost something. We both love each other and we always will. But whether there are more words to add to our story together is up for grabs. My heartbreak is not losing my relationship with someone that has power, as if she’s a cool accessory so I can name drop (I can’t, anyway, so this would be useless to me). I told her at last interaction that I had no problem going on and busting her up because I had so much anger that needed to resolve. I’ve been in this much anxiety since 2015. She says she has forgiven me and also been unwilling to discuss a path forward by avoiding talking about it. I know that she’s told me it depends on the future overall, but she won’t help us get there.

I once told her that this blog was a record of every twist and turn it took to give her a hug, meaning to be sweet and I think it was, but I’m not sure. Do you see what I mean? If someone has been creeped out enough that they ask a real person in my life if they need a restraining order, my rejection sensitivity dysphoria will go apeshit that someone thinks I’m trying to threaten them to that degree. And then to come back to me later and be unwilling to reassure me that we’re okay for years? It’s confusing as fuck to want to take care of someone and not be certain how. This is someone I have pined over like a teen romance from the 90s. Once you’ve felt that for someone, it’s always there in the smallest part of you. I can move on from wanting to be her partner. That was easy. But I cannot move on from trying to be affectionate to the extent that I can.

In the first couple of years, a line like “a record of every twist and turn it took to give you a hug” would have made her tear up a little because she would have thought I meant it platonically. Because I was direct in just asking her if she was capable of falling in love with someone intellectually because my heart ached too much not to know, now I don’t know if she’s moved on enough to accept that I mean those things platoncally again. That she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop and I’m playing her when I never want to hurt her for anything in the world. It would be a disaster. Not only would it alienate me from her, there were a very specific set of circumstances that led to those feelings like a WWII-era sweetheart, and trust me when I say it’s a bigger range than she’ll accept. I took on a project when I married her, and not that I mean it like a bitchy mean girl. I meant that in order to be her friend, I had homework. She didn’t think about what I do and when she told me who she was in real life (her name didn’t mean anything, just mutual friends so I admire her because of the company she keeps. Different playing field in terms of context to understand her, not context to write about her. If you come to this blog and it’s not there one day, know I did it for love. I’m not trying to goad her and provoke her because I’m trying to have content here. I’m saying that her shit has consequences, and it hurts me she doesn’t recognize that.

That because I talk about my everyday issues she changed the game and left me hanging. I knew this was a possibility from week one because she said something that really, really hurt me and had a cold response. She had a cold response to my grief over my mother dying and had the audacity to tell me she knew she was being a dickhead. It was basically along the lines of “why do you think I don’t understand. Why are you so special?” Because I think you think it’s weird that I’m still grieving and you have no idea what you’re in for. She said it around the anniversary of my mother’s death, and it was fresh. What we know is “fresh” is like the first three or four years. That’s because everyone could die around you and you won’t feel it like your parents’ deaths. You learn to live around something you thought you never could. In retrospect, she was a bad friend with moments of glory, but all anxious/avoidant attachments have this pattern. You binge/purge for all time until you realize it’s something a relationship can’t sustain. But what i was binging is not for normal people. Just imagine Kathy Griffin dating Steve Wozniak, but we’re not dating because it’s better for me to be the one that’d be there for her next husband should a thing like that come to pass.

I relaxed into it because of something she said. That you should stay with someone if you love them even if there’s no promise of sex anymore. She didn’t mean it in a negative way at all, she meant that a relationship is worth it if you love someone. It wasn’t that I didn’t feel that way before, I did. I just knew she knew what I was dealing with. That once all those feelings of wanting to be her romantic partner went away and learned the immensity of our bond, platonic marriage made sense to me and I began searching for images in media that represented those relationships. Not the couple from “The Notebook.” Jay and Silent Bob. The Doctor and Martha Jones. Aziraphale and Crowley season one, not two. An angel and a demon as platonic loves is my favorite quote on earth, even though Crowley isn’t an atheist. The quote is just the same idea as an angel and a demon committing for eons.

A/Theism is the greatest love story ever told, and the truth is in the slash.

Pete Rollins

I am just not really sure she knew when I changed messages, and tired of not knowing because sometimes she showed that she did and it made me glow from the inside. That when I stare at her pictures now, it’s because I’m trying to feel her presence in the room when she’s not there. It’s so much better than wanting something I can’t have, because that attachment isn’t secure. Where we fail is assuring each other this is the case and acting like it’s not true. The assurance that she’s next to me is as brillian as when people talk about seeing Christ or heaven in a hallucination, and she doesn’t accept that she has that vibe by nature, not turner. That everyone else will focus on her nature while I don’t give a shit about her professional accomplishment when in the outside world, that’s all people would see and would judge her as infinitely superior to everyone else. I promise that whatever the straight girl equivalent of internailzed homophobia is, she’s felt it. Her profession’s got a bad rap among the fans and sometimes voters, historically. Nothing about that rap is bad, you just feel it as pressure like a preacher’s kid.

On top of that, she’s drop dead gorgeous so when she enters a room, people sit up a little more because they respect her before she talks. Her words, like mine, have a devastating effect on both of us. I told her once that she should propose to Michael like Chandler and Monica, both getting on both knees and meeting in the middle. She loved that image, and didn’t get that I needed her to do it, too, because whether or not we get along, we have business and always will, because she fucked us both in the end. I’m not angry at her because I led us here at first and she finished the job. She doesn’t see the wall of bullshit I walked into, and instead of taking responsibility like she has a child now (in terms of the level to which I can understand her without doing the homework, and the feelings you can’t understand when you try when the busier person will not tell you what they think of those feelings when it’s vitally important to our friendship. I need solid communication again, because she said she wanted it and it created a situation where it’s too dangerous to let go, because it was thoughtless to believe I wouldn’t need her if she’s looked at it from the perspective that my career might be important to me. I know she never wants to tank it because she was my first patron. She will come back eventually and read all these entries obsessively (hopefully with a third, dispassionate eye because she’s judgmental so I know I can explain until she understands. I do not mean judgmental like an asshole. Judgmental like “that’s the way she processes emotions because her last Meyer’s-Briggs is J. It’s the way we call each other out on the carpet when she’s not trying to please me and it makes our friendship all the better for it because we’re constantly speaking the same language).

Therefore, I am trying to make the case for platonic marriage, not judging her. I am neurodivergent and on the spectrum between autism and ADHD with overexplaining as a basic need. You cannot imagine how much crossover there is between me and Kathy Griffin dating Steve Wozniak. It’s impossible to date a person who needs to process their feelings and it ends up being onstage. It’s hard for Supergrover to like me now, but she has a thick enough skin to let me be as I am. She loves it when my admiration runs deep. I know she does. She loves that when I look into the smallest place inside me, I see my love for her. What she doesn’t love is when I get angry and call her out on her bullshit because she thinks that’s my focus. It’s her filter. She’s one of the great loves of my life because I’ve felt those feelings and they went away, like lesbians who have that bond and their partner moves on. I can’t learn to love her like a straight woman, but I can do this. It is hell on earth that she does not see what she’s done, and how devastating it is when she nopes out. She entered a contract (a Massey pre-nup without the clause to defeat it) when we signed it by choice and now can’t deal with the consequences. I call her on her shit and she doesn’t like it and knows it’s just as essential as I do. What I cannot get her to see is that I am not berating her for her opinions and judging her as a person. Her worth is precious to me, beloved Disciple, and a good description because she loves my writing and there’s a little bit of power imbalance, in retrospect.

Sometimes I wonder what Jesus would think of his story after he died, because we’ll never know it whether he was bodily resurrected or not. I don’t need magic Jesus. Anyway. I wonder what he would think of his weird little sect actually accomplishing something by committee, a first on many levels.

The immensity of feeling like she’s always going to feel wronged because I did it once weighs on me, because she only treats me like she forgives me on the surface. It’s having faith and throwing it away over and over, spaghetti code without having some together. Never debugging the code and versioning like Microsoft (the idea that you keep advancing the operating system without taking out the code that breaks for older hardware and software. I am writing a really identifiable story because there wasn’t a pandemic in 2015. They didn’t have empathy for an all-Internet relationship because they didn’t have the context of living on the Internet before it. I didn’t have a problem with keeping up that disconnect because I’d done it all of my adult life. I can feel my emotions without being in the room, but I’ve been in powerful rooms when she’s e-mailed me from them. It’s a lot. She’s a lot. But I’m capable if she’ll see it. I don’t think of this as public excoriation. I think of it as explaining my feelings to myself and others as a survival manual. There are consequences, not all of them good. It’s a gospel, a written account.

In the Bible there is no argument for God, only people’s reactions to them. I hope that I am coming across from this perspective. That I am not interested in being that person that makes her participate in anything because I’m obsessed with her, it’s that she made me responsible for something I didn’t ask for and I’m not even mad about it, but I need her and she doesn’t have time. it’s a straight up problem that could be solved in 10 mutes, because I wouldn’t feel the need to constantly explain why I’m not an asshole and she wouldn’t feel guilty about it and push me away. But she loves lines where it’s clear my love runs deep. Really deep. So far, her favorite line I’ve written about her is that she was a mother lion who carried me through the mountains, who has no trouble with tough love as it’s required. She doesn’t respect the authority I feel when my mother lion comes out as well. That it is not a case of loving someone in one direction like she’s been doing. She has the right to walk away, and it’s a pain I know she never meant to inflict.

I said that the things that make her invulnerable and impervious at work were killing her in terms of strength coming to her through her vulnerability instead. The issue on which I’ve changed my mind is that we are actually two separate people. If you knew her real life story, even she would realize that with my childhood, I totally grew up into her adulthood if she was looking at making those connections. That her people skills are built on my people skills and vice versa, because my inner child is older than hers and her adult voice is older than mine. Oh, my God do I ever become Lindsay’s childhood nightmare of older sister oppression. Supergrover has never been an older sister and I am willing to bet that her little sisters would be enjoying this if they knew it existed.

I am willing to say it’s just projection, but I think she’d agree that the things that make her piss excellence at work are killing her on the home front, because those two worlds are drastically different. She can be soft, feminine, flirty, whatever…….. at home. At work, there are rules, and breaking them when they just don’t make sense. Rule following gets me nowhere in my line of work, and i realized that from living in hers. But please know that I’m not slamming her in the slightest. If I got excited enough to go to the moon, I’m betting I’d have a strict set of rules to follow for something incredible. That’s my story here- that nothing is bad, nothing is even hard when we’re both clear.

She is my beautiful girll.