Wednesday, March 14, 2007
22 years ago 2
I wonder if the universal human experience isn't one of love at all, but one of suffering. I know I've experienced many different kinds of love, the love of family, romantic love, the love of a pet, the love of spirit and yet I do not know if others experience it in just the same way as I. Suffering seems so much simpler to understand, even though there are so many shades of suffering as well. These days I'm likely to say (and believe) that suffering is only a state of mind, that people are actually able to suffer less if they only put their mind to it. But I digress. (I think I digressed, but then again maybe not, this is a story of suffering love, perhaps I'm just looking for a proper segue, so I guess that wasn't really a digression, though this certainly was.)
I have a dilemma now. There are huge holes in my memory and I don't know if I should embellish what's missing or just talk about what I do remember. All my life I've had this uncanny ability (or perhaps affliction) to forget all the bad and retain all the good experiences in life. Except when the good is wrapped up in the bad, the good gets lost as well. This is just a dime-a-dozen story of heartbreak, the catalyst for a million songs, so I think I'll just stick to what I can remember. I do not remember our first kiss, nor any sex at the beginning (I know there was lots and LOTS, but can't remember it) though I do remember thinking at one point that we had spent 14 nights in a row together and that I wished it never to end. I remember wishing I could put John in a little box and only take him out when I was home, but that probably stemmed from my sensing my feelings were stronger than his. Truth is I don't really want to remember all this, but since I've already started, I may as well get it out.
It was John who said, "I love you" first. This I remember, after about a week, us cruising down Pacific Coast Highway in my Triumph Spitfire convertible when he turned and said, "I think I'm falling in love with you Tornwordo." It was then that I let myself go, gave myself over to my intense desire for him, wild unimaginable feelings of love, joy, and their evil sisters, distrust and possessiveness. I simply evaporated and in my place became a John worshipper, putting aside all his wants in order to please him, doing only what he thought he wanted. Looking back, I'm surprised it only took four months before it all came crashing down. I'll tell you about that soon.
(Is it wrong to post pictures of dead people?)