23 June 2000 ~ The bluest sky I've ever seen...

I wrote more in the past four days than I think I've ever written in my life... I'm not going to type everything up, because it's long and y'all don't need to hear it all anyway... But I'll skip through my notebook and give you a few highlights... (Oh yeah, also, for the record, no, none of these are being sent, and yes, I am cutting a lot of parts out; artistic license, alright?)

20 June 2000 ~ Dear Nathan...

I'm aboard a Greyhound in Harrisburg, PA en route to North Carolina. Also, for the record, I'm probably insane...

I got this email from David last night around midnight or so that simply said, "come here now." So I thought about it, sort of, and by 4 in the morning, had my travel plans made and my clothes packed. And now I'm on a bus. Without David's address, home phone number, or any other important information. All I know is where he works, and I guess I'll have to start there, because it's a little late for anything else now. I admit, I suppose I jumped the gun, but...

But he knows me well enough to know I'm crazy enough to actually hop on a bus. Half of me expects to spend my day in his hometown all by myself discovering whatever stupid tourist shit I can find, and the other half of me kind of expects that he'll be at the bus station waiting for me...

I jumped the gun. There's no possible way for him to know I'm even coming, and I doubt I'll be able to track him down within 12 hours. Somehow, though, this feels right. Crazy, but I'm doing the right thing.

I'm scared something might be very, very wrong... But who knows. Maybe he needs a kidney, maybe he wants to chat for awhile... But whichever it is, this is the right time, and I've got to do this. Whatever happens, I do not regret beginning this trip, and I will not end it with regrets, no matter what happens. When I come back, everyone in Binghamton is going to wonder what the hell possessed me to just take off like this, and I won't be able to answer. I haven't seen David in 2 years -- excuse me, 1 year and 10 months, to the day... I want to be there if he needs me, if something really is wrong... And... I want to see his eyes again.

Wish me luck... GAHD, wish me luck...

Always, ~Helena*

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Peter...

8.58 AM, June 21. I'm picking up what I believe may be an Asheville, NC radio station... It's playing fucking GENESIS. We're about twenty minutes away from Asheville. I can't quite cry, but I can't quite NOT cry... I'm very scared... I don't know if I'm ready for this...

~Carebear*

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Dear Diane...

21 June, 2000, afternoon. I heard him shaking his damned keys before I saw him. I was shaking mine too. It was stupid, but I knew he'd be shaking them, and I thought if we both shook our keys, it would bring some kind of luck or something, and we'd run into each other. Like thinking, "we're breathing the same air" over and over might bring people luck, only this was a little more personal, because anybody can breathe; not everybody's a compulsive key-shaker. And we did meet. In front of a little purple coffeehouse. I saw the coffeehouse from a block away and had this incredibly stupid thought of going in there, showing a picture of David, and saying, "does anybody know how I can get in touch with this guy?" but that was a little too Unsolved Mysteries for me. Still, I debated doing just that, until I heard those keys, right across the street....

***********

Diane...

21 June, 2000 ~ late afternoon, early evening... The sky here is bluer than almost anything I've ever seen... almost anything... I am very happy today, Diane. I am sitting on the corner of Patton Ave and South Lexington Street in historic downtown Asheville, just watching the world go by. There are a bunch of purple and yellow flowers right behind me, and an assortment of weedy-looking things. I can feel myself getting a tan; it's so warm out! I'm not doing a thing in the world, just marvelling at the sky. This is such a beautiful town. It looks like Binghamton, except there's a slightly higher concentration of freaks (which I didn't think was possible), a GREATLY higher concentration of lesbians, and a lot more coffeehouses and cafés and such. I'm surrounded by these rolling hills; it's very much like home. It's beautiful here. Especially the sky. I am very, very, very happy.

Always,
~Helena*

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Dear Nathan,

22 June, 2000 ~ Very, very early morning. ...You know, I think I've actually grown up a little bit in the past few years... I was right... This WAS the right time. I'm glad I had a little time to figure my stupid self out. In many ways, I'm the same person I was before I went off to Santa Fe, but in MANY ways, I'm completely different... I think David is too... Same adorably dorky clothing style, same weird taste in music, and I'll be damned if he's not still a blue-eyed version of Ferris Bueller... Except that his eyes have been through a lot... I think they have spent the past year and ten months and two days going through a lot and making a lot of peace. That's what I have been doing. In that time, I've loved David, and resented him, and needed him, and resented myself for needing him... And now I don't really think much of that matters, because I'm just happy; happy with everything... I think he is too. I hope so. As much as I've missed my friend David, I'm very, very glad for the time apart. I feel very real. And not very scared of that at all...

I have to sleep now... I know none of this has any bearing on your life whatsoever, and you seriously couldn't give a shit, and I probably won't even send this, but today has been a very, very good day. And I wanted to share a little of it with you.

Love,
~Helena*

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22 June, 2000 ~ a little past 12.30 or so, PM... Diane... What the fuck ever happened to my Savage Garden CD? This song is going to run through my head all day, and I won't be able to hear it again when I go home if I can't find my freaking CD. "I want to lay like this forever, until the sky falls down over me..." I really used to hate that song. They really killed it on the radio... Maybe I'll just play it again while David's in the shower... Gahd, I am so cheesy. Helena, you're a dork.

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My dear Peter...

"...I'm sorry... .....I changed my mind..... I'm not sorry..." --James Hurley to Donna Hayword, pilot episode of "Twin Peaks."

I've made this crazy trip with no regrets. I know you're not happy about it; I know you're probably very upset with me and my choice to do this... But it was the right time, and I am happy. I love you, and I hate knowing that you're probably infuriated about all of this. In some ways I don't blame you; in MANY ways I don't blame you. I'm worried about coming home and talking to you, because I think you'll want me to say I'm sorry. And I'm not. I haven't got any regrets. But whatever... for now, I love you, and I'll see you soon.

Always, ~Carebear*

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Diane...

22 June 2000 ~ 10.25PM. Oh gahd, my bus is leaving... Oh gahd, I don't want to go... Oh gahd, please don't let me cry and have all the people on this bus jump up to try and comfort me... Oh gahd, I don't want to go...

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23 June 2000; 2.54 PM; New York City, Port Authority...

In true New York style, I found my connection on the first try in the Port Authority bus station, stopped for a bagel and cream cheese on the way, bitched that the bagel wasn't toasted, and demanded to go on the 2.40 bus instead of the 4.30 bus...

I must admit that the past few days have been very confusing; a little scary, very wonderful, and more than a little bit confusing and blurred around the edges... But fuck all of that for just one second and be proud: I DID NOT GET LOST IN PORT AUTHORITY.

My bus is moving...

~Helena*
...homeward bound... mostly.

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Dear David...
...Thank you so, so much for everything... I had a great time. I loved spending time with you. You light up my life. Thank you...
~Helena*

"In heaven, everything is fine..." --David in an art gallery, and/or the Chipmunk Lady in the radiator from "Eraserhead," take your pick...