An (edited) letter to Sean
Sean,
I have often considered trying to go to the Imperial College in London, but I don't think there's a chance
in hell I'd be able to get in there. Stupid socialist countries. :) But they do lots of interesting work
in plasmas. That and I always fancied living in London even before I went there and even more so after
I'd visited it. Of course I also fancied living in Sydney. There's really no accounting for taste, is
there? I'd get eaten alive were I to live in such a place. As I understand it, they hate Americans even more than the British. Why is it that there's always so much hatred floating around? I don't harbor any hatred for people simply because of nationality or pigment. I work with many Europeans who, while everyone makes friendly jibes back and forth, don't seem to hate us, nor do they hate our country. There are people I don't like, our president being one of them. I don't think there's anybody who likes him. But why must people hate? Why must people hate so bitterly that they fight? Is this just something I'm destined never to understand due to the fact that I lack penis and testicles? I suppose if I were more clever I could
understand it. Damned genes! Making me a just barely genius instead of a super genius. Although, given my small information base, I would say that being a super genius is not so good for one's soul. All the super genius people I've known were self satisfied assholes who, being so self satisfied, couldn't find any need to improve themselves. Alas, I fear I must be satisfied with the level of intelligence I have and do
my best to perform just as well, or maybe even better, than those who have more natural ability than I.
Although, there were areas in the IQ test I took where I did uncommonly better than average, such as spatial reasoning and common sense. Still, there are many days when I just don't see that this could be true. For instance, one would think that good spatial reasoning skills would be coupled with the ability to make good drawings that everone can understand. Despite having an artist for a Grandmother, this is
simply not true of me. I'm doing well if I can draw simple symmetric shapes and I've never really
understood visual art. I have opinions about what constitutes good art and bad art, but I would never
dare to call myself an expert. I don't know how I got off on this topic. Feeling insignficant and insecure, I suppose.
You know, I think we had what they call honeymooner's syndrome. Every time we met, things were usually
really happy, and we were pretty much on vacation. We never got to experience day to day life with eachother which would be the real teller as to whether or not we'd have made it as a couple. Unfortunately, the only way for us to try living day to day with eachother seemed to be for us to get married. So I think we were doomed to failure from the beginning. We were stupid to think we could make an overseas relationship work. I see now why everyone was always making fun of me about it. I never let their taunting concern me. I thought that if I wanted it to work, it would. Oh dear. Why can't I be wise? I've always wanted to be wise, but I think I ended up with whimsy instead. Ah well. Perhaps my adventurous nature will allow me to enjoy life more than if I were wise and ended up living longer.
Knowing that we won't be getting back together does nothing to stem my desire for it. I miss you and
despite your rational disbelief, I have never stopped loving you. Not even during the times, such as now,
when we were not together. I guess the tragedy of my maturing a little is not just knowing, but
understanding that love is not enough. It is bitterly disappointing, but I don't think I'll ever be happy
unless I come to terms with that fact. I suppose one of the important differences between myself now and
how I was two years ago is I realize that part of the consideration for how I act on all these silly,
insane emotions I have must be practical. I always hated my Grandma for bringing practicality into
everything, and in some instances, I think she's wrong to do it. There are some situations in which
practicality has no part to play and there is no logical solution to the problem. You just have to let
things work their way out. Unfortunately, no specific examples come to mind, but it seems that knowledge of this is almost instinctual.
Wow, I've really run the gambit today and yet, there is still more coming to mind. I must be getting
better. Maybe I should feel confident that going to put in some time with the can crusher will not make me
more sick.
On the subject of you thinking I was cheating on you... I have to admit that I often worried about you
cheating on me. This statement requires a lot of clarification. All the time that we were together, I
didn't worry about you cheating on me at the present. My concern was always for the future. You see, men
get better with age for a fair number of years both in terms of physical appearence and intellectual and
emotional growth whereas the same cannot always be said of women. Women certainly do not begin to look
better with age, and sometimes, their personalities don't become any the better for it either. In my five
years of observing you, you have always seemed to get better in every way that I can think of. So I always
worried that women who were not wise to the potential you possessed when you were younger would certainly
see how good you had become when you were older. It seemed a forgone conclusion that there would be more
and more women liking you the older you got. Now here comes the showcase for my lack of trust, not just in
you, but in men in general. I have observed in most cases that it is very hard, and sometimes impossible,
for a man to resist a woman who really wants him. This is a huge dilemma for me in all future
relationships. It is inevitable that with increased time spent in a marriage some passion and desire will
fade. The hope is that it will be replaced with different kinds of desires that lead to the couple
staying together. However, sometimes these old passions are not replaced with anything at all. That
coupled with the fact that I'm going to get worse with age while my partner will get better with age, as I
would not want a man who will get worse, makes me think that I will always have to worry about any
husband I choose cheating on me. I suppose I'm just a big fat pessimist and that none of this is really true but when you see it in some people, it's hard to believe that it's not true of all people. This is one of the many reasons, although certainly not the most prominent, that I feel I may never be ready to marry, or that if I do marry, I will have one of those mirthless relationships where neither partner really
cares for the other and the only purpose of their union is convenience for child rearing and other things. I don't really want that at the moment, but I may someday when nature turns up the frequency of my
biological clock.
Talking about all this has made me so sad. It makes me wonder whether or not I've actually ever really
loved anyone. If I had, could I possibly have such a bleak outlook on the future of my relationships? I
don't know what to think, and the fact that I'd rather be thinking about work at this moment is not very
encouraging either. I'm very afraid that I will end up lonely even if I'm with someone. I don't want to
get to be 80 and have no family with whome to reminisce. I suppose I shouldn't give up hope quite
yet. I just feel so uninspired to seek out a relationship that is going to mean anything to me which I can practically maintain. I have often thought that I may be thus inspired if I stopped talking to you, but have always come to the conclusion that it really wouldn't do any good. The only thing I would accomplish is depriving myself of yet another consistent and true friend. You'll pardon my saying so, but I don't think anybody really needs that. So, my dear Sean Martin Healy, I remain affectionately yours. :) I hope you had a good day and that you don't have too hard a time sorting through all this indiscernable drivel.
I have often considered trying to go to the Imperial College in London, but I don't think there's a chance
in hell I'd be able to get in there. Stupid socialist countries. :) But they do lots of interesting work
in plasmas. That and I always fancied living in London even before I went there and even more so after
I'd visited it. Of course I also fancied living in Sydney. There's really no accounting for taste, is
there? I'd get eaten alive were I to live in such a place. As I understand it, they hate Americans even more than the British. Why is it that there's always so much hatred floating around? I don't harbor any hatred for people simply because of nationality or pigment. I work with many Europeans who, while everyone makes friendly jibes back and forth, don't seem to hate us, nor do they hate our country. There are people I don't like, our president being one of them. I don't think there's anybody who likes him. But why must people hate? Why must people hate so bitterly that they fight? Is this just something I'm destined never to understand due to the fact that I lack penis and testicles? I suppose if I were more clever I could
understand it. Damned genes! Making me a just barely genius instead of a super genius. Although, given my small information base, I would say that being a super genius is not so good for one's soul. All the super genius people I've known were self satisfied assholes who, being so self satisfied, couldn't find any need to improve themselves. Alas, I fear I must be satisfied with the level of intelligence I have and do
my best to perform just as well, or maybe even better, than those who have more natural ability than I.
Although, there were areas in the IQ test I took where I did uncommonly better than average, such as spatial reasoning and common sense. Still, there are many days when I just don't see that this could be true. For instance, one would think that good spatial reasoning skills would be coupled with the ability to make good drawings that everone can understand. Despite having an artist for a Grandmother, this is
simply not true of me. I'm doing well if I can draw simple symmetric shapes and I've never really
understood visual art. I have opinions about what constitutes good art and bad art, but I would never
dare to call myself an expert. I don't know how I got off on this topic. Feeling insignficant and insecure, I suppose.
You know, I think we had what they call honeymooner's syndrome. Every time we met, things were usually
really happy, and we were pretty much on vacation. We never got to experience day to day life with eachother which would be the real teller as to whether or not we'd have made it as a couple. Unfortunately, the only way for us to try living day to day with eachother seemed to be for us to get married. So I think we were doomed to failure from the beginning. We were stupid to think we could make an overseas relationship work. I see now why everyone was always making fun of me about it. I never let their taunting concern me. I thought that if I wanted it to work, it would. Oh dear. Why can't I be wise? I've always wanted to be wise, but I think I ended up with whimsy instead. Ah well. Perhaps my adventurous nature will allow me to enjoy life more than if I were wise and ended up living longer.
Knowing that we won't be getting back together does nothing to stem my desire for it. I miss you and
despite your rational disbelief, I have never stopped loving you. Not even during the times, such as now,
when we were not together. I guess the tragedy of my maturing a little is not just knowing, but
understanding that love is not enough. It is bitterly disappointing, but I don't think I'll ever be happy
unless I come to terms with that fact. I suppose one of the important differences between myself now and
how I was two years ago is I realize that part of the consideration for how I act on all these silly,
insane emotions I have must be practical. I always hated my Grandma for bringing practicality into
everything, and in some instances, I think she's wrong to do it. There are some situations in which
practicality has no part to play and there is no logical solution to the problem. You just have to let
things work their way out. Unfortunately, no specific examples come to mind, but it seems that knowledge of this is almost instinctual.
Wow, I've really run the gambit today and yet, there is still more coming to mind. I must be getting
better. Maybe I should feel confident that going to put in some time with the can crusher will not make me
more sick.
On the subject of you thinking I was cheating on you... I have to admit that I often worried about you
cheating on me. This statement requires a lot of clarification. All the time that we were together, I
didn't worry about you cheating on me at the present. My concern was always for the future. You see, men
get better with age for a fair number of years both in terms of physical appearence and intellectual and
emotional growth whereas the same cannot always be said of women. Women certainly do not begin to look
better with age, and sometimes, their personalities don't become any the better for it either. In my five
years of observing you, you have always seemed to get better in every way that I can think of. So I always
worried that women who were not wise to the potential you possessed when you were younger would certainly
see how good you had become when you were older. It seemed a forgone conclusion that there would be more
and more women liking you the older you got. Now here comes the showcase for my lack of trust, not just in
you, but in men in general. I have observed in most cases that it is very hard, and sometimes impossible,
for a man to resist a woman who really wants him. This is a huge dilemma for me in all future
relationships. It is inevitable that with increased time spent in a marriage some passion and desire will
fade. The hope is that it will be replaced with different kinds of desires that lead to the couple
staying together. However, sometimes these old passions are not replaced with anything at all. That
coupled with the fact that I'm going to get worse with age while my partner will get better with age, as I
would not want a man who will get worse, makes me think that I will always have to worry about any
husband I choose cheating on me. I suppose I'm just a big fat pessimist and that none of this is really true but when you see it in some people, it's hard to believe that it's not true of all people. This is one of the many reasons, although certainly not the most prominent, that I feel I may never be ready to marry, or that if I do marry, I will have one of those mirthless relationships where neither partner really
cares for the other and the only purpose of their union is convenience for child rearing and other things. I don't really want that at the moment, but I may someday when nature turns up the frequency of my
biological clock.
Talking about all this has made me so sad. It makes me wonder whether or not I've actually ever really
loved anyone. If I had, could I possibly have such a bleak outlook on the future of my relationships? I
don't know what to think, and the fact that I'd rather be thinking about work at this moment is not very
encouraging either. I'm very afraid that I will end up lonely even if I'm with someone. I don't want to
get to be 80 and have no family with whome to reminisce. I suppose I shouldn't give up hope quite
yet. I just feel so uninspired to seek out a relationship that is going to mean anything to me which I can practically maintain. I have often thought that I may be thus inspired if I stopped talking to you, but have always come to the conclusion that it really wouldn't do any good. The only thing I would accomplish is depriving myself of yet another consistent and true friend. You'll pardon my saying so, but I don't think anybody really needs that. So, my dear Sean Martin Healy, I remain affectionately yours. :) I hope you had a good day and that you don't have too hard a time sorting through all this indiscernable drivel.