So, Friday then..
(sighs)
Not good. Not.. well, maybe it was good. Because now I can.. have to move on.
Early in the afternoon, as I finished painting a part of my deck and was taking a break, I got an email from Gina about her having read (parts) of my blog. Not only did she read parts of it, but also, her mother read it first and then told her about it afterwards.
Looking at my site counter, I managed to see exactly which pages were linked and read, so it was these posts:
Jack and the Octopus
Seven
Remember
Love Don't Keep Me Waiting
I Forgot To Write Down What I Think
Georgina
Encore
Counting Red Cars
I'm confused about "I Forgot To Write Down What I Think" because it doesn't exist on this blog. Yet, the html file was accessed. Even though there isn't one.
I'm confused about "I Forgot To Write Down What I Think" because it doesn't exist on this blog. Yet, the html file was accessed. Even though there isn't one.
I'm not sure, but I think those specific posts were looked at by both Gina and her mom. While I believe her mom, didn't go to each post, but rather went from one to the next; so perhaps, Gina's mom would know more about me and my blog than Gina had the time to really pursue on her own, while she was at work.
So, I got her email saying that she was "embarassed and humilated" because she choose to have her mom scan the blog before she read them herself.
She then said she "kindly" requests for me to delete her photos and remove her full name. From my private blog. And though she said she knew it was private, she still wanted them gone anyways.
Well, too bad Gina. It IS a private blog. And I really can't imagine who else in the future would I ever be comfortable with being allowed on here to read my thoughts. Like I did with you.
And your mother. Unintentionally.
It is what it is, so Gina gave me this thing about how she would contact Google if she has to, and tell them to take it down, and then she ended with saying that I can find someone else to give those Dolly Parton tickets to.
It was sad. Sad, because my blog seemed to have no effect. It changed nothing, these sincere and heartfelt thoughts I had been expressing this past month and a half. My heart was in these words, and my original intention was to ease her concern about my still wanting to contact her.
Whatever.
So, what I wrote back, as I finished painting my deck and had blue paint over my hands; I wrote back..
Well..
I wouldn't even call it writing, really.
I made a bomb.
And I delivered it to her through email.
It was constructed out of my heart's most intimate and sincere thoughts.
It was a love letter, basically, that I didn't plan in advance of having to write.
It..
It was like the cd I made for her.
It was perfect.
And yes, I did drop those cds off at her work. That is why her mom called, and her uncle.
I admitted to it in the email, along with telling her that I slipped in my mix cd inside of one of the (sealed) cd cases, so that she would listen to it and be surprised.
The original plan was to leave two cds near her vehicle, having her think someone else left them and then unsealing these cds and putting mine in without noticing the CD-R that was written on the disc.
And, of course, my plan failed.
But, yeah. That love letter. That bomb.
I'd like to post it on here.
At first I was reluctant, because it was so deeply personal and heartfelt and.. I wanted to respect the sanctity of it. It meant a lot to me, because it was the truest thing I had ever written. The most honest thing I have ever said.
But, now that my blog is private again, and now that I think that Gina is a complete idiot for not giving me a second chance; I'm putting it up.
Here goes,
================
Thank you for reading, Gina. Well, it was private, and I had no intention of anyone ever reading it.
But I do feel like you've left me with no choice.
Here's the stupid thing I'm going to say. Again.
I love you. I am 38 years old, and I have been in enough relationships and dates to know who and who isn't worthwhile.
You're it.
I know you don't love me, haven't loved me, and claim that the feelings you felt for me was just infatuation; but I know you could have. I know we would've been great together.
But, as I wrote in my blog, I was scared and suspicious of you. I had to protect myself. I have had relationships similar to ours that started off with promise, only to have something ugly reveal itself down the line.
I kept waiting for that moment with you, and I eventually got it. Once you broke up with me.
And when that happened, I stopped. I took a hard look at myself, at my life and I was deeply ashamed. I changed on Sunday evening, when I came to your house and your mom was there.
I don't mean to embarrass or humiliate you. I am still dating, and still hopeful, but in my heart..
(sighs)
God damn it. I LOVE YOU BABY DOLL.
And..
I know when it's time to move on. I know I can, and I know I will have to. I already am trying. I'm trying.. But these dates I've been on. God, you have no idea what kind of people are out there. I've.. I've dated enough. I have lost faith in women years ago.
Until I met you.
And..
This is going to be my last message. I promise. I don't have anything left that I can do to have you change your mind.
But I do know that you've judged me wrong. Very wrong. And as I told you while we were together, you don't know the half of who I am.
And that was intentional. And that was probably why you stopped having feelings for me in our last few weeks.
I'm taking responsibility for my actions, Gina. I did leave you those cds. And I did not expect you to react the way you did.
I would never want to hurt the one I love.
So, I did something clever. In the Alan Jackson case, my mix cd is inside. I thought you wouldn't think these "found" cds were from me, and I wanted you to be surprised to put that disc in and listen to it.
My plan didn't work out as I hoped.
But. I'm hoping you still have the cd, and that you will someday give it a chance to listen to.
I will make my blog private again. You won't hear from me anymore. I'm sorry for upsetting you. I'm sorry for not giving enough of myself when I had the chance to.
I'm also sorry for not having met your family. Or your kids. I.. Was scared. Nervous. I didn't want to make a bad impression. I didn't want us to break up, and so out of fear, I couldn't be the man I really am.
I want to. Badly. Right now I'm outside on my deck after having painted it. There's blue paint on my hands, and I thought I'd take a break and check my phone. There was your email.
And, I have tears going down my face.
I.. I know you must think this is ridiculous. It's.. Been two months. And I've really changed. If only you could see me now. My home. The relationship I now have with my mom, my friends.
If only you could see me Gina.
Looking into my eyes, might have you believing it.
But... It sounds like.. You hate me. It sounds like there's nothing left of the woman I know.
So. I'm.. Going to go.
I..
Love you.
And this turned into something that I've never seen in any Hollywood romance film before.
But.. It is what it is.
Goodbye beautiful.
My heart will always be yours if you want it.
Love,
David.
=====================
=====================
I don't feel like I have anything to comment on that letter. Just that I got everything out of my system, exactly the way I wanted it.
Yeah.. I cried while writing it. I cried later that day, too, in my dark basement with a candle, headphones on, trying to get drunk, but failing.. Couldn't find anything worth listening to, other than a bit of Debussey, and I grew annoyed with the more jubilant parts of it and ended up listening to her cd again.
It was hard to sleep that night too.
But, I realize.. I have to let these pains pass through me. I have to accept those feelings. Those terrible feelings..
(sighs)
Because, those feelings make me who I am. Whatever I am. Some kind of freakish super-sensitive overly-romantic, delusional kind of person who wants to believe in love, and has experienced it enough to know what it is like.
And wants to share it, but nobody wants it.
Not her, anyways.
Probably nobody else, either.
My depth.. my emotions.. they're just too.. deep. Too.. flamboyant.. or something.. I don't even know the correct word to be using.
So.. I spent a lot of yesterday, fighting a battle within myself. My enemy across the field staring at me with death in it's eyes, had the name, "Hope" and repeatedly assaulted me with all of its strength.
I had to try my best to kill it. I had to stop thinking that maybe this email will work, somehow. Maybe that cd will be listen to. Someday. Maybe Gina will have a change of heart. Maybe her mother will convince her to give me another chance. Maybe.
Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
I'm tired of maybes.
I had to kill hope. I wasn't successful, but I really wounded that son of a bitch. I think I took out an eye, and severed a limb. I don't know. It's an abstract metaphor for fuck's sake.
My primary weapon, was reason. And my ammunition, was to realize Gina to be an idiot.
A beautiful idiot, but an idiot just the same.
An idiot that I love.
That was the best I could come up with. There was no, "oh, I'll find someone better" or, "God works in mysterious ways" or "everything happens for a reason" .. Those cliches wouldn't have done shit, against Hope. That motherfucker took a beating, and it's still.. somewhere.. crawling around in the dark.
I don't know where it went. But it's not completely dead. Though I pretend it to be.
I still find myself looking at red cars, and looking out at the street whenever I pass by my front door. Thinking that I would see her walking up the steps.
And I have.. (sighs) .. I don't know what else to say here.
Just doing the best I can at the moment. Sometimes I think of something, and cry. Like.. now.. at this second. Just thinking about what I'm writing here..
Yeah.. It's true. It's all true. I love that woman. I would.. probably have married her, if I had the chance. Knowing what I know now.
She's.. I'm not going to say soulmate, because that's another discussion for another time and it's a complex idea to discuss.
She's.. the best.
The kindest.
The sweetest.
The loveliest.
Woman.. I've.. ever .. met.
And..
I probably won't ..
No.
I WON'T ever find anyone like her again.
That I know for sure. No probably, ifs, mights, or buts.
Maybe I'll find someone close. But they'll be different.
They won't be Gina. And I really doubt, they'd be more of a prize than she is.
And I don't like settling for second place.
But I have to.
I'm not going to bother with dating for a while. If I get a message from someone interesting, I'll consider it. But I won't be enthusiastic about it. I guess I wasn't anyways, this past month and a half.. well, except for that 23 year old since she really had me going with our texts, but.. that was lust.. not love.. not the excitement that love can bring.
Yeah.. so.. Life goes on, right? Bought my mom a 400$ Pandora bracelet with charms today, and holy hell was the clerk who assisted me was SUPER HOT. Low cut cleavage, young, lipstick, dark rimmed glasses.. very lovely, very feminine. I felt comfortable joking with her, and managed to touch her wrist a few times (because she was trying on the bracelet, dammit, I asked her to model it for me)...
Bought a Pinnochio porcelin doll from the flea market, and wanted that second Nazar, but Trina wasn't there at 11am when the place opened at 10. So, I couldn't stand around and wait for her to show up.
Perogies at Shumka at Kingsway Mall.. drove home.
Soon as I entered the door, I could feel the weight of loneliness descend upon me like my house was filled with it.
I started crying a bit.
Went into the basement, did my laundry.
Cried.
Recovered. Listened to music.
Cried.. (a little, not much)
Sobbed. (a little)
Ahhhh hemmmmmmgheuijkdfkdjfkdfd..
I'm back to my lonely life.
A lonely life without hope.
And no faith in women left at all.
Thanks to that beautiful idiot.
The beautiful idiot that I most love in this world.
Yeah.. I cried while writing it. I cried later that day, too, in my dark basement with a candle, headphones on, trying to get drunk, but failing.. Couldn't find anything worth listening to, other than a bit of Debussey, and I grew annoyed with the more jubilant parts of it and ended up listening to her cd again.
It was hard to sleep that night too.
But, I realize.. I have to let these pains pass through me. I have to accept those feelings. Those terrible feelings..
(sighs)
Because, those feelings make me who I am. Whatever I am. Some kind of freakish super-sensitive overly-romantic, delusional kind of person who wants to believe in love, and has experienced it enough to know what it is like.
And wants to share it, but nobody wants it.
Not her, anyways.
Probably nobody else, either.
My depth.. my emotions.. they're just too.. deep. Too.. flamboyant.. or something.. I don't even know the correct word to be using.
So.. I spent a lot of yesterday, fighting a battle within myself. My enemy across the field staring at me with death in it's eyes, had the name, "Hope" and repeatedly assaulted me with all of its strength.
I had to try my best to kill it. I had to stop thinking that maybe this email will work, somehow. Maybe that cd will be listen to. Someday. Maybe Gina will have a change of heart. Maybe her mother will convince her to give me another chance. Maybe.
Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
I'm tired of maybes.
I had to kill hope. I wasn't successful, but I really wounded that son of a bitch. I think I took out an eye, and severed a limb. I don't know. It's an abstract metaphor for fuck's sake.
My primary weapon, was reason. And my ammunition, was to realize Gina to be an idiot.
A beautiful idiot, but an idiot just the same.
An idiot that I love.
That was the best I could come up with. There was no, "oh, I'll find someone better" or, "God works in mysterious ways" or "everything happens for a reason" .. Those cliches wouldn't have done shit, against Hope. That motherfucker took a beating, and it's still.. somewhere.. crawling around in the dark.
I don't know where it went. But it's not completely dead. Though I pretend it to be.
I still find myself looking at red cars, and looking out at the street whenever I pass by my front door. Thinking that I would see her walking up the steps.
And I have.. (sighs) .. I don't know what else to say here.
Just doing the best I can at the moment. Sometimes I think of something, and cry. Like.. now.. at this second. Just thinking about what I'm writing here..
Yeah.. It's true. It's all true. I love that woman. I would.. probably have married her, if I had the chance. Knowing what I know now.
She's.. I'm not going to say soulmate, because that's another discussion for another time and it's a complex idea to discuss.
She's.. the best.
The kindest.
The sweetest.
The loveliest.
Woman.. I've.. ever .. met.
And..
I probably won't ..
No.
I WON'T ever find anyone like her again.
That I know for sure. No probably, ifs, mights, or buts.
Maybe I'll find someone close. But they'll be different.
They won't be Gina. And I really doubt, they'd be more of a prize than she is.
And I don't like settling for second place.
But I have to.
I'm not going to bother with dating for a while. If I get a message from someone interesting, I'll consider it. But I won't be enthusiastic about it. I guess I wasn't anyways, this past month and a half.. well, except for that 23 year old since she really had me going with our texts, but.. that was lust.. not love.. not the excitement that love can bring.
Yeah.. so.. Life goes on, right? Bought my mom a 400$ Pandora bracelet with charms today, and holy hell was the clerk who assisted me was SUPER HOT. Low cut cleavage, young, lipstick, dark rimmed glasses.. very lovely, very feminine. I felt comfortable joking with her, and managed to touch her wrist a few times (because she was trying on the bracelet, dammit, I asked her to model it for me)...
Bought a Pinnochio porcelin doll from the flea market, and wanted that second Nazar, but Trina wasn't there at 11am when the place opened at 10. So, I couldn't stand around and wait for her to show up.
Perogies at Shumka at Kingsway Mall.. drove home.
Soon as I entered the door, I could feel the weight of loneliness descend upon me like my house was filled with it.
I started crying a bit.
Went into the basement, did my laundry.
Cried.
Recovered. Listened to music.
Cried.. (a little, not much)
Sobbed. (a little)
Ahhhh hemmmmmmgheuijkdfkdjfkdfd..
I'm back to my lonely life.
A lonely life without hope.
And no faith in women left at all.
Thanks to that beautiful idiot.
The beautiful idiot that I most love in this world.
