to you, totally unrestrained

Here we are, writing as the words move like worms across the page, coming in and out ans thicker and thinner. the altered world of the drug that makes me so sad right now. sad because my vision is blurred because my head isn't stable. the ambien mixes with the sad period mess and produc-es a new world like out of a rahl dalh book, something where threes are people and can dance and come together in their own way to create a great children's program where the kids are taught that the wordd is interesting and worth of living for.

so alex started this all because we were trying to remember who katherine was. she had been in ny and i had dinner with her and chris, her boyfriend who broke his neck and the same part that Brian died. in his many surgeries, his esophagus was ruptured and now he has an intravenous feeding tube. after dinner, i went to a party at alex's and i was trying to remind alex who she was, because when everyone came to ca for the funeral, she had been one and she had stayed with alex's parents and cooked dinner one night. and alex said that was that other girl that kept saying that her and brian were in love. alex was like yeah right, you have only been seeing each other for a month. i had forgotten about her, Rebecca., when telling the story that my boyfriend was killed. but he wasn't really mine. he wouldn't have considered himself mine. and i have drams where i force him to choose between the two. a few night ago he choose me. he just wanted to see me. its like we were at UVa, but really it was like a summer camp (all safe places where i was at peace) and he said what we had was real, and that what he had after wasn't real and didn't count at all. i wish i believed that these were Brian coming down and telling me the truth, what his preferences would have been. i had been so mad at time, for making me feel the way i feel about him, knowing how i feel about him, then treating me and my feelings in a caviler attitude. then he comes and give me this great dream. but what does it mean, and does it cancel out the other dreams i have where he chooses to not be with me so he can do other things. i am so mad at myself for allowing this jerk of a boy to control so many of my emotions. I loved him. I never loved anyone before, and the way this is going, i will never love anyone afterward. i want to feel that spark and for the other person to feel the spark and for us to make it work without the drama and games of modern dating in New York. but i don't know if i can, because right now, i can't see beyond this drama that a two-year-dead boy is wreaking on my life. you left me behind, confused, insecure. if you didn't love me, who will.

this is what the inside of my head feels like. an evil tumble house, exaggerations and creatures and textures all collected. none of it makes any sense. i don't think i can have a normal relationship again because first, so much of its bullshit, second, i don't like who i am, how can someone like me while i am looking at them, certain that they can do better. for this i am so mad at you brian -- why didn't you love me? why couldn't you have left me with that. i remember spooning in bed, i never used to have problems sleeping when you were in the room. when i could just be me relaxed before i got to be too lazy. you like me then, when i was willing to go along and try anything. but with you i didn't really try anything, its almost like neither of use wanted me to. you wanted to have your own things, and i was content because it was enough for me that you were doing it. I want that dream to be you choosing me or at least choosing to love me. Two nights ago you came back from the dead for me and it was just what i wanted, why didn't that help? why did it just make me look at my life and wonder. why do i go home when i could be going out exploring NYC. when we were here together, all we did was sleep in and wander the shopping districts. i think we saw the met, we ate cheap food, went to the mediocre play. we wasted that vacation too, unless you count the great sex on the couch that came after the deep conversation. i got a little carried away and you stopped to make sure i was okay. what did you really think of me? you made me so happy for so long, and then you made me feel like i was holding you back because i wasn't as adventurous as you were and because i loved you more than you loved me so you were choosing between me and doing cool things that you though you had to do at your age. so we broke up. you quoted ben folds "there once was an old man who lived to his 90s, then one day passed away in his sleep" then you said "see you soon" and we were broken up so we could figure things out and get back together. maybe. or maybe just continue to drift apart. i continued to hate law school, but that first summer we were apart wasn't so bad, the work was interesting, it was a quite summer, not many of my friends were in Nashville, but the work was good and the summer class, such as it was, was fun. then you came back and got the stuff you had been storing at my place. and we had sex, because i couldn't help it, you were so tanned and your shoulders were so broad from the summer of surfing and kayaking. i made you sleep on the couch, the bed wasn't an option. but i got up early and wanted to be able to see you and be close to you, so i got my books and started reading on the chair. you saw me when you woke up and opened up your arms as said: "cuddle?" and i almost started crying right then. it was so comfortable being back in your arms, i couldn't stop touching you and i though you were having the same problem. i guess i kissed your chest and off we went. afterwards you ruined it by saying you had to stop giving me your sperm. of all the jerky things to say. then you said it was my fault because i started kissing your chest. i didn't want to get back together, but it was so nice to fall into each other again, and i was sad and hurt that you would put it like that. then you went back to uva, and had the time of your life as far as i can tell. talking to you that semester, it didn't feel like you. you broke your arm and i offered to come help you unpack. i think you were grateful at the time and i was so worried about cramping your style, but i couldn't tell what you wanted from me. i slept on the floor, drove you around, helped you buy and decorate your apartment, but i was never good enough. when i did you laundry, i lost one of your shirts and you later found it discolored in the heap. i couldn't cut the matting boards straight for the photos. i went out to get you medicine late at night when you had an allergenic reaction, and i kept trying to remind myself it wasn't about me, it was about you, but you didn't seem to appreciate me, you gave me a hard time when i couldn't carry the boxes by myself. i know you were in pain and were frustrated that you couldn't do what you wanted to do and were bummed that you would have a steal rod in your arm for life. but i was so sad the final night. i had cleared my schedule for a full week if you needed me to stay, and hinted as much to you. but either i was being too subtle or you wanted me to go. and that hurt, i was crying the last night but didn't want you to know. when i got back to nashville, you had sent me that cute card as a thanks. and then a few weeks later you asked if lizzie was going to come back from italy looking as hot as she did when she got back from france and didn't understand why i was upset. why couldn't you just admit that it was insensitive, instead of apologizing because it had upset me. i decided that you weren't worth it any more, that i didn't need you in my life. and for three weeks, i didn't talk to you. apparently at this time, you were busy being the big man on campus, getting lots of ladies and attention, drinking, something you refused to do with me unless it was a bottle of wine with dinner. i am glad that you got to do all the stuff that you couldn't do when you were with me, i just wish we could have done some of that together or that i didn't feel like i was holding you back so much. i had an inculing that you were finding your place at the time, but after you died, when i looked back at pictures, and really saw you coming out of your shell, it hurt so much more to know that you were greater, bigger, better than i was, and that i would always be playing catch up. i started to wonder if you really loved me or just told yourself that you did. if, by the time of your death, you had come to the same conclusion that you came to with Suzanne, that you didn't really love me, you just thought you did. And then you left me that message on new years eve. and i knew you were thinking of me then. i was still not talking to you because i was done. but hearing your voice, hey ... its me ... im in san francisco. you didn't know what to say but you wanted to be in connection with me. like when i would get mad at you, i would wouldn't be ready to move on, but still i had to be in the same room as you. then my love for you just all came flooding back and i started wondering, seriously for the first time, if we could give it another go. but of course, by then it was probably too late. We talked a week later and i had to tell you i still loved you. but the way i did it was totally face saving, i said this is not to put any pressure on you, i just want you to know that i still love you. i wish i listened better to what you said next. it was something like of course you do. we were together for a long time, that doesn't just go away. then i said when will it. but i don't remember what you said. what i was too scared to say was that i don't want it to. i like loving you. then we went on to talk about other things. how happy you were in your place right now, how scared you were for change. i said that for some college is just a passage way, so the things that they do and the friends that they make are transient. but i told you that you were not like that, you would continue to make the same kinds of friends and the same lifestyle choices so that there won't be a huge disconnect between who you are now and who you will be after college. then you told me about rebecca, but i didn't know her name then. you said that there was something and you didn't know where it was going. i tried to joke it off and show you that i was okay with it by saying, so you hooked up with someone and now you don't know what to do about it. I think you let my definition stand, not because it was right or wrong, but because though you though i should know, you didn't really want to talk to me about it, especially if you really liked her. I heard you made secret valentines day plans. they better have been original from the ones you used on me! i am sorry i didn't celebrate occasions as much as you did. and then you died. and here i am over two years later. unhappy with my choices in life. lost, cast adrift. i don't have a purpose or direction or a hope that i can find one. i want to go back to san diego, when we thought we could do anything and that we would be happy and satisfied in that. i want to go back to when i would get stressed because i cared and you could always calm me down. How can i do that? i have a mortgage. i can't just leave the firm, and if i did, what would i do? so maybe you could come to me again tonight. i could use some cheering up.