Who Shot the LaLa?
I think I know and he’s not yet 44. I am moving towards resolution with all of this – the complete separation of property, the severance of heart and mind, the giving up of dreams stacked against too many odds. L calls this my last hurrah, the ultimate acquiescence, but I don’t think so – in war, they blow the horn to charge, and to retreat. And both have honor in them. One last pass at the balance sheet by someone older and wiser than me and we can move ahead.
It’s been almost a week since a cig has touched my lips – so far so good. Trying to keep my vices to a minimum so that I can thorougly relish every moment of despair and/or joy without leaning on my usual devices. Trying to do what I advised N – feel everything as deeply and as much as it hurts so that none of this gets buried under a smile.
N said he is suffering from post traumatic stress – no concentration and forgetfulness – the entire city is suffering PTS – it was a year of loss stacking up on loss and it will take a while to fill these coffers again. I talked to E about how it “feels” different – she said what was is over – and that is another loss besides the marriage – everything now is different and is yet to be realized.
Today is Epiphany and also the Snake and N’s decade anniversary – it’s been a week shy of a month since the hard part began and never was there a better description of these past few weeks. I think of Chekov’s “The Lady and the Dog” – the only way the couple can resolve their fears is to acknowledge that they are poised at the beginning of a “new and splendid life,” albeit one that they will not openly enjoy for a long time to come.
He tells me she wants to reach out to me but thinks it is better not to – I feel the need for communication too, but told him it would be subversive – I do have an agenda, one I try to put aside but obviously can’t because of my own self-interest. I told him I can’t be his friend, not his objective friend, even though I want what is best for him in the best of all possible worlds. In the end, my missives are tainted with bias not just for me, but for him, and they are not part of the same agenda that G (elder), or W, or some on that side would recommend – even though I think part of my agenda, the part where he is fully realized, resonates with her.
I told Mom last night that my entire tribe is against her working the graveyard shift – N said no way, the Snake and N are against it, L and his mother J were shocked, and even S in California says this is not a good idea. She says she is going through with it and going to try it. Why? She feels as if she has something to prove. Please, oh please, let me read this entry when I’m 70 and remember to not be as stubborn and silly as my mother! Something to prove? To whom?