5/12/00 (cont'd)
I love Megan more than any thing, any person, any dream, with every fiber of my being. But you know what I miss? I miss passionate, Romeo-and-Juliet (or Juliet-and-Juliet, whatever) affairs that can only end in mass destruction of some flavor. I miss sex that has such intensity that it's more of a mental experience than physical, to the point that you wonder what that noise is and then realize it's you, screaming. (But it's a good thing--I'm not into S&M, and I'm certainly not into anything involving domination. That's twisted.) I miss that unyielding pull at your insides that continuously reminds you when you're not with that person. Passion...that sense that the fucking sun rises and sets on that other person's mere existence.
I truly believe that those kinds of encounters are doomed from the beginning. Because nothing that intense can last forever. Megan and I had that once. (Of course, initially, our relationship had that whole exciting "taboo" quality, anyway, because she was already taken when we met--HA! I won!) But familiarity breeds contentment, and now that pull on my insides when she's not around is more like "goddammit, why the fuck does she have a cell phone if she's not going to turn it on, and why doesn't she actually CARRY her pager so I can find her when I want to ask her if she wants to make dinner here or go out?" I think something has to give if you're actually going to allow yourself to become comfortable enough with someone to spend the rest of your living days with them. Because to have the kind of encounter I'm talking about for any length of time? God, how fucking exhausting. It would make for a very short life span, I think.
But I do miss it. I can't remember the last time someone kissed me like they couldn't have enough of me.
And I can't fucking believe I'm spewing this out for the whole fucking world to see. Oh, well, with any luck, I'll never meet any of you people face to face and be spared the embarrasment.
"...here's a scene, you're in the back seat laying down, the windows wrap around to the sound of the travel and the engine...all you hear is time stand still in travel and feel such peace and absolute, the stillness still that doesn't end but slowly drifts into sleep...the stars are the greatest thing you've ever seen and they're there for you, for you alone, you are the everything...everything is beautiful, and she is so beautiful, she is so young and old...you are here with me, you have been here and you are everything..."
I still love that song, I don't care if they did use it on 90210. (Which made me nauseous, by the way.)
I'm going to write the paper tomorrow. Megan and F are going to Ibex to climb the rock wall. Uh, whatever. I'd like to be the sporting type, but it just bores me. Sports evoke painful memories of my childhood. I think Megan's mom put it best once when Megan's dad asked me if I wanted that extra pair of roller blades in their upstairs closet, and she interjected, "she doesn't move, John..." So tomorrow, as they are eagerly trying to hurt themselves and collect big in a lawsuit, I will be sitting in the damn school computer lab trying to pretend I give a damn about "projections for hate crimes in the 21st century." Ha, that sounded wierd--"21st century." I can remember watching "Buck Rogers" when I was a kid and thinking, wow, the year 2000, man, I'll be OLD then... Well, okay, I was kind of right, I guess...
Okay, I have to go work now. If I want to be the best Suck-retary I can possibly be, I'd better start actually working at least once a day. <Sob> I'm going to go barf up a lung now...
And by the way, MISS MARIE, if you happen to read this, you actually let your real name slip some time ago in a past entry...I don't know which one...I just remember thinking, "okay, so what the fuck IS her name, anyway?"
Until I return to cyber-land...
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