People In Hell Want Icewater
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I hope I die before I get old...


March 22, 2005 - 11:12 p.m.

OK, false alarm.

God, sometimes you meet someone who enriches your life so much.

Meeting B did that, but in ways she didn't anticipate.

She's... old.

She's...

Argh.

The best thing B did for me is bring into focus why I loved Melody so much and why I need to work to be what Melody needs. And wants.

She's the most militantly passive-aggressive person I've ever met. She doesn't mean to do it, but she treats me like a novitiate, like a student. I'm attracted to her, but not always. When I'm not, she's...

God, she's... old. I am not ready to be that old.

And worse, she vests so much of herself in metaphysical and pseuodopsychological horseshit. HORSESHIT.

If I was 20, she would be magical for me.

I'm not.

I'm old, I am wise, I have my own flawed experiences and my own views of the world and my own failed marriage and my own sexual and personal strengths and flaws.

Get me the fuck out of here.

Melody, I miss you. Let's talk.


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