from: a
to: a
Saturday, April 25, 2010, 3:36 AM
subject: Re: mp
dear moth’s powder,
we had trust issues. they were my fault. and, sure, i waited until too late – like now, like yesterday – to explain why. i’m sorry. but you’ve never had someone in an aol chatroom – someone with whom you didn’t even initiate conversation say to you – “you’re so ugly…please leave this chatroom.” it was the weirdest thing, all i could say in reply was “lol” … didn’t block the guy because i didn’t want him to think i was effected by what he said. years ago, of course, but clearly i’m thinking about it now. which is sad. and you’ve never had someone say, and truly believe them when they did, “i like you…a lot. but i’m just not attracted to you. i’m sorry.” sweet, how he cared enough to be honest and not malicious. but that doesn’t mean i wasn’t effected. it means that sex clubs and i have become quick friends, and when i feel appreciated, i indulge not necessarily the safest of behaviors. a bit of reckless abandon, a bit of self-deprecation.
this is what it means :: it means you wait after the bars and clubs have let out, when you’re alone and tipsy, and hope someone sees you, nods and talks to you, flirts with you. no one does, and though this is the reality you’re used to, you act as if it can still possibly happen. so you end up having fascinating conversations with homeless men and women that are looking for similar recognition, for someone to look into their eyes and affirm their humanity. and there is nothing you can do to change this. it is not that the men and women you encounter are not worthy of such communion, by the way. it just means that you question your own place in the world. or something like that …
ted stopped by me tonight, on the corner, “you’re so beautiful…say, um…do you have a cigarette?” and after giving him one, “look, it’s my birthday…i just want some weed. can you give me a dollar so i can get some…please?” it was the plea, as “please,” that made me amenable, of course. i gave him a dollar because i knew, even if it were not his birthday, that he wanted to feel good. and that’s ok with me…i was looking for the same thing.
but after i gave him one dollar, he said, “now you know weed costs more than one dollar! do you have five? please?” once i told him i had no more dollars to give, unfortunately – you know how i don’t carry money only cards – he kept it moving. no goodbye either. so as more folks walked by, i smiled with shy embarrassment. you wouldn’t have convinced me at 15 that i’d be here years later…waiting again. but i am. and i am. and so, this is my reality. i have all sorts of guilt for not telling you about shit like this before. but it’s too embarrassing to say out loud, to admit. so i write to this nothingness that is you with hopes that, somehow, some way, you’ll understand.
will you? can you? i hope…
a.