Cathy
I am once again overwhelmed by grief at having driven the wonderful amazing Cathy Laughlin from my life. I truly cherish her and miss her so much at times it is almost more than I can bear. At these lonely late hours I sit in my little badger-hole nested away afraid of the world outside and all I can do is quietly weep. All because I misspoke. Now that I remember what I said the awful stupid truth of it is that I was just clumsily drunkenly trying to say to her that I was grateful for her existence and her deigning to be kind to a pathetic failure like me, but it came out twisted and arrogant and it sounded like I was belittling her and our relationship, as if it were somehow beneath me of all people. It would be funny if it didn't make me so wretchedly miserable. The pain of Gulie's torture I have gotten over, I don't even fear her anymore I feel nothing but sympathy for what I see as her mental condition, the complete destruction of the precious girl I knew into the twisted poisonous demon of self-torture she became. But Cathy was never vicious or evil or even all that broken, she was just careful and delicate and shy and easily wounded. And what did I do? I demanded of this delicate creature the mothering soothing dominatrix power of some saggy-dugged post-menopausal mother of dozens, an earth elemental yoni creche cradle to nourish my wounded frame in was what I needed, but instead I thrashed about in pain in a soup of agony and chemical fixes and psychological tricks and games manipulations oh-so-clever that I confused myself five times before breakfast. And I expected her to be my stalwart partner through it, my unchanging lifemate. This girl who hadn't been properly cherished by a whole man who loved her, just my mechanical comfort and love which, while not terrible was nothing but vapor like the ethyl alcohol singing in my temples. So I did her a disservice to say the least, and all she wanted was some space, to let me heal. Once she had realized that I was a wreck of an idiot and she could no longer stand by and watch me flail in twisted torment what did I do? Instead of just letting it be I lashed out at her with all my fury as if SHE deserved any of my hatred: The ONE person who cared for me enough when I was completely lost and without purpose. Cathy rescued me from the void more than once, and I repaid it by scourging her with my vile bitter tongue. That's why I weep, because I fucked up. Because I was cruel to someone who I truly love and who dearly loved me. So I think I'll go to bed now. The least I can do for the memory of the kindness that Cathy and many others have given me in my life is to just be humble and continue to survive. If I can do kindness to others I will, but many see me as a broken pariah still never to be redeemed, to them I will always be a bruise on humanity. I'm going to bed now.