Mistake

So I was cleaning up some old papers, you know sifting through articles I cut out for my class to see what I should throw out and what I should file and I came across an old notebook. It had notes from grad school and it had notes from the first class I taught. I made the mistake of flipping to the back, and there was a letter from Eric. I was sure I had put all the letters in one place to be avoided, but apparently I forgot about one. If memory serves it was probably the last letter I ever got ( dated July 3, 2001- making it shortly after my last visit to see his parents and meet his grandparents). And of course, I wasn't going to look at it. But then I did. I didn't read the whole thing. I only saw two sentences. That was enough.

Jin asked me why I am I still posting about Eric ( in one of the previous comment threads) and I would think the reason would be obvious. I can't pretend it didn't happen. I can't "just move on." Now maybe that's because of my culture. I was raised a Jew, and we are big on remembering. That whole never forget the Holocaust thing, as if anyone could. ( Isn't there a famous line in a movie "Never forget, never surrender"?) Well asking me to forget the Eric is to some degree like asking me to forget the Holocaust. It is like asking me to stand on the smoldering ashes of Pompeii and say there was never a town there. It's a denial, a denial on an epic level. After all Eric managed to do what cancer and my disability and my father could not-he managed to make me want to die, to lose hope, to regret my life. And that is an accomplishment not easily forgotten.

And of course WHEN he left has something to do with it ( 2 weeks after sept 11th). But I'm still a mess. Have I had men fall in love with me since then? Yes ( if speed freak is to be believed). Certainly I've had at least three men fall in love with me, and one of them would have wanted to marry me (at least one), but I couldn't do it. I just didn't feel anything for them ( or if I did it was revulsion). The men I have felt something for since then ( beast, vampire hunter, and ami) have all been at the very best emotionally unavailable.

I still write about him because I still feel the loss of him as I still feel the loss of the nerves in parts of the lower half of my body. 18 years later I still feel that loss. Some wounds don't heal. If you don't believed me, go to a burn unit.

And it's not just the loss of him. Him I could have gotten over long ago. But more difficult is the loss of the girl I used to be when I was with him. I miss the girl I was before this happened. I miss the life I had. I miss the life I was supposed to have.

And more than anything I want this to stop. I want to feel better again and g-d knows I've done any number of crazy things to TRY and feel better. All to no gain whatsoever. If anything my only accomplishment is that I can simply pretend to be sane better than I did a year ago. Oh and I can read. There's an accomplishment. When it first happened, I couldn't read which needless to say for a writing instructor is a pretty fucking horrible problem to deal with. Now I can read ( I only wish my students knew how to as well).

And part of is that everywhere I go people my age are getting married. My crazy friend B, my crazy slut former roommate, my 20 year old cousin, my photographer friend at F's. I mean, christ, I can't even find someone I like enough for a second date. I still write about him because all of these couples remind me of my loss. It's not as bad as it used to be. The reason I love Law and Order was because for a long time it was the only show I could watch - no romance. You want to know what the statisitcal likelihood of a disabled woman my age is? I'll tell you it's thirty percent on a good fucking day. And that's without the mentally instability and the emotional scarring. I mean really going into a flooded market ( 7 women for every man) a physically disabled, emotional disturbed girl isn't exactly a hot commodity. And beyond that living on my own as a disabled person is extremely difficult. There are a lot of problems that I won't go into here (which is my way) which were alleviated by having a boyfriend ( not that friends couldn't help in SOME ways, but certainly living with someone made things much easier).

You know what? I need to say fuck this and go to sleep. Please feel free to leave me encouraging notes in the night.

And the first person who says anything about the power of positive thinking OR self fulfilling prophecy is going to be attacked by a battalion of carefully trained sadistic ocelots. So comment at your own peril.