(no subject)
"Yes, I was infatuated with you: I am still. No one has ever heightened such a keen capacity of physical sensation in me. I cut you out because I couldn't stand being a passing fancy. Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams. And you weren't having any of those."
― Sylvia Plath
When I un-friend-ed you from Facebook, which I doubt you've noticed or cared to, I also unfriended Thomas. Thomas is the boy who I had sex with and then punched when he wanted to cuddle. I called him a "fag" and I've re-told that story many times, making him the butt of my joke, the punchline to my debauchery many times and now I'm writing a book that will contain the story again (although the names and other details will be changed). He's part of the reason I wanted to talk to you again in the first place. Because when I met him I was 23 and he was 19 and he was way more into me than I could ever care for him. He noticed almost right away that I had taken him off my list of internet contacts and he messaged me to ask why. I didn't really have much to tell him and I didn't tell him fast enough so he told me that I was abandoning him after telling him that I cared, and that he was going to kill himself and I would never know what or how or when and that I was off the list of people to be invited to his funeral and then he blocked me from having any further contact with him on facebook. It's exactly that kind of behavior that made me want to cease contact with him in the first place. He's the kind of person who uses his disabilities and emotions as a weapon to bludgeon others. I got in contact right away with a mostly neutral third party who lives close enough to keep an eye on him to make sure that he was not a danger to himself or others, which he isn't currently being. He just wanted to hurt/ manipulate me into thinking that he was. And that it was all my fault. Because I didn't "love" him enough to put up with his bullshit.
I remember asking you if that's what I was like. If I'm a toxic influence who uses my feelings to try to control others? If I'm creepy and weird and deluded to that extent? And I asked you to please tell me if I ever got that bad. If I ever made you feel disrespected or uncomfortable or weird. And you promised me that I was far removed from that particular flavor of bat-shit insanity and that you would indeed tell me if I ever did any of those things. Remember?
It's been two and a half weeks since I last heard anything from you. It feels like more. I've met a lot of people and gotten a bit of writing done, though not as much as I would like, during that time. I've taken a difficult inventory of my life and my decision making process. I've decided that closure is not a thing that exists, unless you have it first and ultimately only within yourself. In that time I've made career shifts, celebrated a birthday and mound a loss. Most of all, I have just tried harder to be a good person. And not a day has gone by that I do not think of you. Many nights I have felt haunted by your presence in my dreams. I find this simultaneously inspiring, disheartening, comforting and painfully unsettling. But I can choose to have peace with the idea of you. I just wish I could have that with the real you that exists too.
I know I'm a crazy, clingy, needy, whiny bitch. I know that I'm a powerful, sexy, beautiful and lovable human being worthy of respect and joy and friendships that last forever. I know that people will fail me and time will fail each individual person's own expectations, wants and needs. Yet, I choose to believe that we are all innately good, even if flawed. Even when broken, we are still striving to be better than we are.
So, even if you never read this, I'm still going to keep sending you my writing until you tell me outright to stop. I'm going to keep writing "19" and make it the best story that I can, and then try to publish it when I'm done and it will be dedicated in part to you, because you were the inspiration after all. And you deserve to know that when I think of you, that they are not thoughts of hate or derision or even of perversion, but kind, happy thoughts. I hope you're doing well. I hope you are a happier person for the choices that you make, even those that don't include (and may in fact necessarily preclude) me.
I told you once that you didn't have anything that I wanted and that that gave me all the power, but I think you saw right through that. I also told you that I enjoy your suffering, but that's not true either. I don't enjoy anyone's suffering. Not ever. Not even Thomas's. And it's not that I don't want to be your friend (or that I no longer wished to be Thomas's friend either, but that's a different point). It's only that I didn't want you to feel that you had power over me or to feel responsible for me feelings. Being honest, which I pride myself on, isn't just about not lying. It's about owning your feelings and responsibilities and mistakes. I make a lot of mistakes. I'm sorry if that means we can't know each other anymore, but I understand.
I guess that's all I wanted to say.
Take care of yourself.
--Jae.
― Sylvia Plath
When I un-friend-ed you from Facebook, which I doubt you've noticed or cared to, I also unfriended Thomas. Thomas is the boy who I had sex with and then punched when he wanted to cuddle. I called him a "fag" and I've re-told that story many times, making him the butt of my joke, the punchline to my debauchery many times and now I'm writing a book that will contain the story again (although the names and other details will be changed). He's part of the reason I wanted to talk to you again in the first place. Because when I met him I was 23 and he was 19 and he was way more into me than I could ever care for him. He noticed almost right away that I had taken him off my list of internet contacts and he messaged me to ask why. I didn't really have much to tell him and I didn't tell him fast enough so he told me that I was abandoning him after telling him that I cared, and that he was going to kill himself and I would never know what or how or when and that I was off the list of people to be invited to his funeral and then he blocked me from having any further contact with him on facebook. It's exactly that kind of behavior that made me want to cease contact with him in the first place. He's the kind of person who uses his disabilities and emotions as a weapon to bludgeon others. I got in contact right away with a mostly neutral third party who lives close enough to keep an eye on him to make sure that he was not a danger to himself or others, which he isn't currently being. He just wanted to hurt/ manipulate me into thinking that he was. And that it was all my fault. Because I didn't "love" him enough to put up with his bullshit.
I remember asking you if that's what I was like. If I'm a toxic influence who uses my feelings to try to control others? If I'm creepy and weird and deluded to that extent? And I asked you to please tell me if I ever got that bad. If I ever made you feel disrespected or uncomfortable or weird. And you promised me that I was far removed from that particular flavor of bat-shit insanity and that you would indeed tell me if I ever did any of those things. Remember?
It's been two and a half weeks since I last heard anything from you. It feels like more. I've met a lot of people and gotten a bit of writing done, though not as much as I would like, during that time. I've taken a difficult inventory of my life and my decision making process. I've decided that closure is not a thing that exists, unless you have it first and ultimately only within yourself. In that time I've made career shifts, celebrated a birthday and mound a loss. Most of all, I have just tried harder to be a good person. And not a day has gone by that I do not think of you. Many nights I have felt haunted by your presence in my dreams. I find this simultaneously inspiring, disheartening, comforting and painfully unsettling. But I can choose to have peace with the idea of you. I just wish I could have that with the real you that exists too.
I know I'm a crazy, clingy, needy, whiny bitch. I know that I'm a powerful, sexy, beautiful and lovable human being worthy of respect and joy and friendships that last forever. I know that people will fail me and time will fail each individual person's own expectations, wants and needs. Yet, I choose to believe that we are all innately good, even if flawed. Even when broken, we are still striving to be better than we are.
So, even if you never read this, I'm still going to keep sending you my writing until you tell me outright to stop. I'm going to keep writing "19" and make it the best story that I can, and then try to publish it when I'm done and it will be dedicated in part to you, because you were the inspiration after all. And you deserve to know that when I think of you, that they are not thoughts of hate or derision or even of perversion, but kind, happy thoughts. I hope you're doing well. I hope you are a happier person for the choices that you make, even those that don't include (and may in fact necessarily preclude) me.
I told you once that you didn't have anything that I wanted and that that gave me all the power, but I think you saw right through that. I also told you that I enjoy your suffering, but that's not true either. I don't enjoy anyone's suffering. Not ever. Not even Thomas's. And it's not that I don't want to be your friend (or that I no longer wished to be Thomas's friend either, but that's a different point). It's only that I didn't want you to feel that you had power over me or to feel responsible for me feelings. Being honest, which I pride myself on, isn't just about not lying. It's about owning your feelings and responsibilities and mistakes. I make a lot of mistakes. I'm sorry if that means we can't know each other anymore, but I understand.
I guess that's all I wanted to say.
Take care of yourself.
--Jae.