Decathexis

[mallorys_camera]

Never a good idea to begin watching the BBC version of Brideshead Revisited at 10 o’clock at night…

It is 9 degrees out. Nine degrees! Supposed to be even colder next week.

I emailed the Girlfriend:

So, do you think we should continue to be Big Question Marks to each other? :-)

I don't. I think our households are connected: things are totally weird the way they are.

I told Ben a while ago I thought it was high time you & I met. Maybe he passed this on to you and you said, "HELL, no," in which case all I can say is last time I looked I only had one head and no tail.

But maybe he didn't, in which case I figure I should take it up with you directly. It's only appropriate that I meet the adults who are going to have an ongoing presence in my kid's life. Plus, you know... I'm curious. Aren't you? :-)

Want to meet for coffee or tea?

All those smilies should convince her I'm harmless, don't you think?

The drive to the Buffalo airport seems to have ended my romantic fixation on Ben. I’m still, of course, extremely fond of him. But something about talking to him like that, words swirling out of the darkness while blackened landscapes rushed by my windows because, of course, the car was standing still, put it all in perspective: he’s a really smart guy but kind of a human hermit crab, scuttling into other people’s lives… Your life now, Jayne.

In an odd sort of way, too, reconnecting with Matt on FB was part of the process. Not that I have the slightest romantic interest in Matt, but I’d utterly forgotten what a totally mesmerizing raconteur he is and for better or for worse, that seems to be my hot button with men: they can look like dwarves, they can be covered with fibrous papilomas, but if they can tell me stories in my own language, I’m hooked.

Wonder if I’ll ever be hooked again?

One thing I’ll never forget about Ben, though, how he was there for me when Robin was born. Made the trip to the dark side of that moon, held me, panted with me, screamed with me – God knows what the nurses thought. He was right there besides me, in a place not many men would go to.

Light at the end of the ghostwriting tunnel: one more day of intense slogging and it should be complete.

Need to line up next gig.

Who wants me to write your book? Nonfiction, fiction, anything. It’ll be a great book and it’ll have your name on it.

Comments

[old-cutter-john.livejournal.com]

Much better! Congratulations!

[mallorys-camera.livejournal.com]

Well. You have to go through what you have to go through. I've never believed in censoring my emotions.