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Thursday, August 29, 2002

If you don't have anything nice to say....
Well, I didn't ask for feedback on the vidclip, so I should be happy that the one solitary comment was good, eh? Think I'll go back to the free stuff giveaway this weekend to get the much-needed attention from strangers. Meanwhile, not being able to sleep at 5 a.m., the rain gently hitting the window panes, thinking about that moment in the William Hurt film I was watching only an hour or two ago where he looks up at Holly Hunter with this certain expression of love, or awe, or affection, and it hit me hard, somehow. Was reminiscent of this look on my boyfriend's face over 3 years ago, when he asked me to take off my glasses as I was lying in this very bed and to just stay there so he could gaze at me in my boxers. He had been away for several days, a family funeral, and he just wanted to look at me, and somehow I felt so beautiful for those long minutes as he just slowly looked at my body, his eyes full of some emotion he had never expressed until that moment, and never actually said aloud. I was overwhelmed, quite frankly, and while normally quite nervous or apprehensive at such a moment, I allowed him the chance to look, and have his own thoughts, without interruption, or question, and after awhile he moved from the foot of the bed, and his warm body joined mine, and I hadn't ever thought our love-making could ever be that good, but it was.

Little did I know that that was the "peak", that while he seemed to be getting closer, in fact he was moving away from me, and I'll never know if the closeness scared him, the vulnerability of needing me, or the realization that my feelings for him were so intense and perhaps he knew his own would never match mine. Only 2 or 3 weeks passed before he was suddenly gone from my life, his decision made, one he felt no need to explain, just that it wasn't working for him, and that was that. The greif I felt seemed almost as immense as when my father died, this sudden and unexplained loss that I tried to minimize by thinking that at least it was only my loss, that he was still around to pursue whatever it was he needed to pursue. Even today I could name a million reasons why he would never make a good partner for me, and even today, I am saddened by the realization that I may never want to be a part of someone's life so much as I did back then, despite all those reasons. I have no idea why I fell for him; certainly he was very good-looking, and I looked forward to sleeping with him - but I mean sleeping, the comfort I felt from his snoring, his arm firmly wrapped around my shoulder as my head was pressed into his chest; the faint aroma in my sheets after he left for work, and I spent an hour or two drifting back into sleep; watching something on the Discovery Channel together after I brought Thai food by cab from Manhattan over the 59th St bridge to his apartment; watching his head nod back and forth approvingly when I blasted my Garbage CD single remixes; him telling me a week before the break-up that he felt like a lemur, clinging to me, and me not knowing that he thought that was a bad thing; going to the Bronx Zoo with his sisters and he only 4 days before he broke it off, thinking this was a good sign, I was meeting the family; me crying uncontrollably to my brother that day on the phone, the day that nothing else mattered, that the whole world came crashing in......

and the rain continues outside, my life drifts, I am re-arranging my apartment back to what it looked like 3 years ago, when i had a roommate, and a job, and a boyfriend, and the bed is back in this room, in that spot where I would wake up, and make coffee, and bring it to his barely-awake but smiling face, and nothing else mattered to me but that smile.