One more time, I’m typing this entry in Word because my computer won’t connect to the internet. I’m thinking that either my grandparents sent me a computer virus with their last email or someone deleted my account with the college. Knowing how brilliant the tech staff at the college is, I wouldn’t doubt that they deleted it… This is really killing me: I can’t write, I can’t think, I can’t LIVE without checking my email twenty-seven times a day…
I’m feeling rather uninspired. I awoke at 8 this morning – even before the alarm had gone off – think “oh, fuck, today’s the day I have to go for my TEST.” After obsessing and neurosing and freaking out for a few hours, I went to the place where they were supposed to be doing the tests, and found out it was the wrong date. I’m such a twinkle-brain. But now, after all of that freaking out, I’m shaky and tired and tense. I want to take a nap, but I know I couldn’t sleep. What with all of that, and my computer not working, I’m a little on edge, to say the least.
Peter’s in New York. I spoke with him for a few minutes on the phone the other night. He said he’s going to New York until Thursday, seeing “a buncha shit” and “considering a possible move if I get the internship I want.” My eyebrows raised. “What internship?” I asked, thinking more about what asshole he was thinking of moving in with… “At the Roundabout,” he replied. The Roundabout is his favorite theater. They did the revival of “Company,” on Broadway a couple of years back. He has a picture of me in New York standing in front of the Roundabout sign in a frame on his bookshelf. NEVER gonna happen, okay? New York’s got enough Playbill-cleaner-upper-wannabes to populate Los Angeles. The truth is, there probably is no internship, and he’s thinking of moving in with some jerk of a guy just so he can be away from our hometown and convince himself he’s in love. I’ve seen it before. I’m sure I’ll see it again.
He’s vacationing with someone. Some guy. I think the one from Florida. I talked with him on the phone once for about ten seconds; he’s got a cute voice. And if my computer would ever work, I also have him on my instant-messanger list… Heh heh heh…
And I know I really shouldn’t be jealous, but I also know I shouldn’t have gotten romatically involved with Peter in the first place. Hah. Like I’m EVER going to listen to my conscience when it comes to him!? No, I never will. And you know what? I'd do it all again. All of it.
Nope – I’m jealous as fuck. Just paint me green and put a sign around my neck reading “bitch.” But what else can I do, right? Jayden asked me how I expect Peter to ever be faithful to me in the long term. And the truth is, I don't. I can't. I'm not his girlfriend, not really. Just his friend and his sometimes-lover. And he's gay, and I know that -- I DO KNOW THAT - I'm not just deluding myself, as everyone seems to think. What I've got with Peter transcends stupid boyfriend-girlfriend relationships. Thus, it ought to transcend expectations of fidelity, too. And it should transcend jealousy, but it doesn't always... I told Jay that Peter wasn’t even faithful to me when I was home, and I KNOW he wasn't. And I told Peter I didn’t expect him to be faithful – it would be too much to ask. I only expected that I would be treated with respect… I don’t think he knew what I was talking about. So I told him about David, about how David wasn’t Mr. Fidelity, but he always told everyone he was seeing me, and always told me when he was seeing someone else. I was happy with that. I still don’t think Peter got the message, because he’ll deny to the death that we’ve ever been More Than Friends. In the immortal words of my wonderful friend David, “Whatever.”
Sometimes I wish David was still around. Still willing to take care of me and convince me that everything would be okay and that I didn’t need Peter in my life at all. I loved David so much. I still do. He’s the big brother I never had, the guardian angel I call upon when I need someone to help me through bad stuff when no one else really understands. I haven’t seen him in six months. And three days. Then again, I really hate putting David through all my shit. Once – ONCE – he unloaded on me, and I’ve unloaded on him countless times. I’m glad he’s not around sometimes, too: I don’t want to make him deal with my life anymore.
Peter. Just his name brings so many images to my mind. And here, in Santa Fe, I can forget all the bad stuff. I remember it, but it doesn’t seem so bad. On the phone, I could see him lying in bed, his voice low, his hair sticking out five different directions… Ken called him one night while we were sleeping; he talked on the phone with Ken for almost an hour in that low almost-whisper with his hair all messy and his eyes half-closed. He didn’t mention to Ken that I was there, of course, so I lay there silently in the dark, watching his lips move and tickling him lightly under the covers. I know there was no one else there the other night when I called though. He wouldn’t have been first to say “I love you,” if anyone else had been there. “When are you coming Home?” he asked. “I missya, bitch!” And that’s all I needed – to hear him say “I missya, bitch!” We decided years ago that calling each other “bitch” was a sign of affection. Think about it: you can only call somebody “bitch” if you’re awfully close to them, or they’ll get offended. And how do you replicate that comfort level? Nobody but Jayden and Peter have ever been allowed to call me “bitch.” I miss him too. I wanted to go home and crawl under the covers next to him, forget all about everything else, and snuggle into his arms to fall asleep. I wanted to wake up with him tripping over me and swearing on the way to the alarm clock.
Ken may have been right: I probably am pathetic. But I think David was wrong… I do need him. Yeah, I guess Ken was probably right.
Love,
Helena*
“Turning me on, turning me off, making me feel like I want too much. Living with you’s just putting me through it all of the time… Running around, staying out all night, taking it all instead of taking one bite. Living with you’s just putting me through it all of the time…” --one of David’s favorite songs: “That’s All" by Genesis