my head keeps swimming back to memories of michael. cruel
cruel michael, whom i knew for a year and a half online
before i decided to meet him and sleep with him.
i was at the height of my klonopin haze at the time. i was
emaciated, histrionic, and completely euphoric. i was
obssessed with The Lover and The North China Lover by
Marguerite Duras at the time and i was still enthralled
with how seedy, how romantic and a turn on it all was. i
watched the movie and i felt like an 85 pound ingenue.
michael... i can hardly remember your face. i can only see parts of
it-- the thin curve of the upper lip meeting the nostrils, your
unshaven cheeks... where are you? do you ever remember me, think
about me, fantasize about screwing me?
i had an affair carried out mostly in my head for almost 2
years, fueled by his encouragement and lies. i was naive to believe
them, but i think it was all worth it. i wouldn't have changed it.
no, i don't have illusions that i love him, i just liked
the perversity. i liked the sex.
i was beautiful, and last year was the first time i realized it. i
had been on the klonopin for about 4 months when i finally met
michael. i had dumped alex, my 5 year-long boyfriend a month
before. i had never known what it was like to look in a mirror and
like what i saw. to look and admire the angles of my face, to look
at myself with so much love and pleasure... i had never felt that
freedom before. michael used me, but he made me feel beautiful.