2001-09-03 19:23:16 (UTC)


8/7/01—this love is doomed to fail. He doesn’t call when
he should. He may think about it but he doesn’t. Now he is
dating someone else and I’m dating no one. I don’t
understand myself quite a bit right now. I want someone to
be interested in me. To take the time to know see
me as a strong person but also like the soft petals of a
rose. I want them to ask me questions about my life. To
probe me with interest. For me not to spew anything out
but to wait for that person, whoever he be
interested in me. I want to be videotaped. To be
questioned by someone who does not fear the answers. As
far as my dating experience goes this is not a mainstream
person. I’m not looking for someone who has no life, no
curiosity beyond his job and coming home to dinner. I want
someone who needs help so that I can give it. Satisfy
him. Be his everything. And for him to give me the same
kind of help and caring I give him. I want him to be
strong enough that he can do that we can share
these secrets about ourselves and know all about one
another. So much that we feel our souls mixing through out
our daily activities. Everything with vince is so
tainted. Corrupted by depression, betrayal, and serious
communication problems. I can not live like that with
C had this connection with me. He needed me on the
same level I needed him mentally. At the time I wasn’t
able to give appropriately because I was not on medication
yet. He had such an interesting life full of experience
whether on the edge or off. His experiences matched mine
and when we communicated we could feel the similarities in
each other. We got so much pleasure out of being together,
knowing each other. C knew my shadow dragon and I knew
his. There must be another one out there like him. That’s
what I desire.
Vince is so difficult to get along with. We shouldn’t
continue our relationship because it’s just a neverending
trial and the sensual understanding of each others nature
is not present. There is no deep understanding or
connection with each others shadowdragons. Vince is more
like a surface level personality. I often wonder where his
depth is. I’ve seen it on spare occasions but he just
doesn’t have enough of what I desire in a man.
I’m thinking of going to graduate school where I might find
solace in literature again and in nourishing my brain.
Perhaps there I will meet a man who is of tremendous
depth. A poet. That is what I’ve always sought in
everyone that I have dated and there have only been a few
who have measure up. And most of the time poets are a bit
of a mess inside but that’s what is interesting to me. The
study of the human character. How do men work really? I
could ask myself the same question, how do I work? The
things that go through my mind about men are so diverse
that a finger cannot be pressed upon them. I wonder about
the energy that has pushed me so far in life. And why I
seem to be an on going wreckage of a person. So many
accidents. The sudden and non ignorable state of my mental
health. Why? It started when I was five years old and I
don’t really want to go through life like this. I’ve had
enough. My numerical age is not a true judgement of how
old I am.

7/19/20 I took five months off from vince this last time.
Most of all because of my illness, which had taken over the
relationship. My depression was ruining everything. He
was so good about everything. Each weekend rugger or no he
would drive down from Frederick to care for me. Life was
retched. My time was spent lying on the couch with my cats
and Vince on the loveseat reading the next book. Grilled
cheeses, or chicken was cooked for me, as I had no energy
to make anything on my own.
We’ve been on again off again since fall of 1994, when
we met at college. At room draw a year earlier I had
spotted his athletic tye dyed figure loping down the hall.
I remember being stunned by his presence, but he didn’t see
me then. My hope was that I would see him the next year,
and that he’d be living in senior housing like me. Senior
housing at the time was a long row of houses divided in
two. Four boys lived on one side and four girls on the
other in each separate house. The entrances were on
opposite sides of the house.
During the first week of school a bunch of ZTA’s were
drinking on the front porch next door. My sisters and I
had seen to it we had houses next to one another. I
rounded the corner from the back entrance to my house to
the street entrance of theirs and saw several guys had
joined the group. Slowly walking up I surveyed them,
seeing if I could place faces. When I reached the dimly
lit outskirts I saw someone else standing on the fringes.
There he was. We stood sharing eyes, thoughts, and
feelings, for quite some time without speaking. Then, he
stepped forward, offering his hand saying, “I don’t believe
we’ve met, I’m Vince.” I introduced myself as Marianne but
told him that most people called me Sky. That evening
marked the beginning of our intricate connection. We
walked to the graveyard, lay in each other’s arms, and
shared much of ourselves.
Vincent had a girlfriend named Carol at the time. She
was petite, Asian, and they weren’t getting on well at
all. She was at a school hours away and they rarely saw
one another. Almost every night Vincent would come and see
me or we would meet and walk beneath the cover of darkness,
where we could avoid some guilt. Nothing ever happened
anyway. It was almost a mutual agreement. Though I became
more and more upset by the situation as the semester
progressed. You see, Vincent was finished then and I
thought he would disappear from my life. He was still with
Carol because and wouldn’t end it with her though we had
begun to spend time together in bed. Still without much
physical connection going on. The mental tie we had formed
with our thoughts and hearts was overwhelming. There was
constant discussion about where if anywhere our
relationship was going. During these talks we would play
cards because I wanted to beat with something. Sometimes
we really would beat on each other down in the mud and rain
together when our bodies were wet and we didn’t mind. I
kept asking him why he was with me, did he want to have his
cake and eat it to? One fateful time he answered yes and I
told him to get out. I was staying until the day before
Thanksgiving and was coming back the day after. At the
time I didn’t want to be at home, and I was also extremely
ill. Vincent came over and sat with me for a time, asking
if he could do anything for me.
There was a terrible night when I caught him hugging
my highly disloyal roommate behind closed doors. At that I
slammed the door and left for Betterton Beach. Often I
wondered in the early years how he could be so
inconsiderate and how he could treat me as he did. I was
always paranoid that he would betray me with another
woman. But I was never really his, and he was never really
mine. On the last night of the semester we all went out
drinking at the tavern in town. My heart ached for him
though he was there drinking beside me. I wasn’t drunk. I
remember going to bed with him quite clearly. And him
asking if that was what I wanted. Of course it was. I
didn’t care about Carol any longer because I’d held out all
semester. My heart was tired of these games and I needed
to feel him close. The next morning before I left town I
drove to the florist. Hanging from his doorknob I left a
long-stemmed yellow rose to remind him of our friendship.
Christmas break brought many different things for me that
year. I had been searching for something to fill the void
that would be left by college at the end of the next
semester. Nothing was rearing its’ head. I didn’t expect
to hear from Vincent at all for some time if ever. When
Frederic called and started asking me to come to Monterey I
felt some hope for the future. Perhaps something could
have worked out with my old flame from high school and
early college. My flight to California left on the twenty-
eighth and didn’t return for seven days. I would be taken
care of by an army man for that week, and maybe I could
forget Vincent. When the telephone rang on December twenty
seventh and it was Vincent I was taken aback. He told me
he had something for me and wanted to see me right away. I
said ok but also told him Frederic was flying me to
California. He was surprised by that but didn’t falter.
We drove to Stella Maris, an overlook and sat for a bit.
He gave me a beautiful malachite necklace and pair of
matching earrings. Both of which he made especially for
me. The next day I left for the west coast. My time with
Frederic was amazing. We went to Disneyland, and San
Francisco’s Fisherman’s Wharf. He brought me roses, and we
ate at a lovely French bistro called Chez Christian’s in
Carmel. Then he presented me with a diamond ring and a
life in of marriage in the army. I had no idea how to
respond so I told him I’d think about it and returned home
with the ring.
Once home I sent Vince a gift. I bought him a Jiminy
Cricket doll in Disneyland. With it I enclosed a short
note stating that this was for his conscience and that I
was engaged. The shock of that took quite a few years to
ware off I must say. He brought my erratic decision up to
me over and over for several years. When all was said and
done I was disengaged within a month and had met Topher,
who would become important later in these years. Things
with Topher didn’t last long and Vincent began to appear
with great irregularity outside my window. One morning he
called me from another girl’s room and I became quite
displeased. He hadn’t wanted to wake me as my lights were
out when he made it into town. This was just one example
of his ability to spend time with more than one woman.
Graduation night was spent together. He and I held fast
within each other’s arms, because the morrow would end a
chapter. Sitting at graduation he spoke of how he was the
only one of us who could read the Latin on our diplomas.
Afterwards, he found me and introduced me to his parents.
His father took a famous photograph of us cloaked and
standing shoulder to shoulder. We looked alike then, and
do even more so now with my short hair. He came to stay at
Gram’s for my graduation party and I might mention was
never in disfavor with her. My love was ten thousand stars
strong for him then, and I felt ever blessed by his
presence. He gave me a keyring with a wood inlay of
mountains and a turquoise moon in the sky. My soul mate
knew me well.
I stayed in Chestertown for a month, working at a
boy’s home for delinquents. Pleading for a visit from
Vince became a regular activity. He was growing distant.
I dated other people, as I’m sure he was doing, and when I
became totally dissatisfied I moved home. Vince left for
grad school at West Virginia University and I was home
working a meaningless job at Eddie Bauer. I couldn’t much
get away to see him and he couldn’t much get away to see
me. We tried to stay together as much as possible over
email. Neither of us could afford phone calls. I tried to
please him by sending home made oatmeal cookies for
Valentines Day. But he scoffed at the heart cookie I
placed on top. After that he didn’t call, didn’t write,
and there was nothing until he arrived for a visit one
day. He came over and I confronted him about his
behavior. Telling him I knew he had cheated on me again.
That he was running around with other women and I was sick
of always being the faithful one. I spoke of my love for
him and how I had done many things to try and hold our
connection together. I accused him of doing nothing. My
shoebox full of supposed love letters and postcards from
him was shoved at him as I screamed they were lies.
There was a major time lapse at that point in our years.
For I was sick of feeling used and I could not quiet the
love for him in my heart. If he could not return that love
then I would have to face up to it. The next time we
returned to each other I had moved home and was in the
second semester of schooling to be a teacher. Vincent
always seemed surprised by my want to talk to him again.
When I am away from him my heart cries for his presence.
During this time of dating he was at an impasse with
finishing his Masters degree. He didn’t want to do it. I
couldn’t believe how stubborn and illogical he was being
and scolded him intensely. I told him I wanted us to move
forward to break up forever. That I wanted to marry him or
else to finally recover from this constant pull at my soul
by him. How I did not know that could never be done. I
would never recover. He assured me he was not sure of
himself by any means and in any of the requested areas.
Again we went about our separate ways but I thought of him
C and I reconnected at the end of my student teaching
experience. The relationship we had seemed to surpass
Vincent and my relationship in that Toph was sensitive in a
communicative way. Topher was there for me every day with
the stress of my new career, and my illness driven forward
by the new pressures of life. He was not strong enough and
left me because of myself. I was intensely saddened upon
being abandoned yet again and retreated home after he
left. I spoke to no one for months.
I emailed Vincent because I had missed his strength.
He met me at a bookstore and I was cold and tired. Weary
from my life. He knew it well and gave me the gift of a
stained glass arrowhead with a copper binding. We began to
communicate regularly and I was pleased to have him back in
my life. I had decided to move to a house in the country
owned by a friends parents. It was a manic decision I now
know. Like so many others I have made in my life. But I
wanted peace and quiet. I wanted to be under the stars and
to worship the moon as I’d done so many nights at college.
There in this house I found myself even more interested in
Vincent’s company again. He came on two Friday’s, bringing
dinner and a movie. We kept our hands to ourselves.
Mostly because I was afraid to feel his skin on mine
In the darkness the house owner’s drunken son burst
through the glass in my kitchen door. He grabbed my arm
and twisted it, saying he would fucking rip my face off. I
was numb to him and after the police left I called Vincent
because I knew he would come right away. He arrived close
to midnight and set up camp in my living room. We decided
I must find an apartment close to home and move within a
week. Vincent stayed and packed the entire house I had
just finished unpacking while I went to work each day.
While I sat and cried about not having a father or anyone
to come take care of me in my family he didn’t cringe. I
should have appreciated him more at that moment but we’d
been so distant that I didn’t know how. He was so kind and
gentle. Unobtrusive and yet a part of me wanted him to
encircle me with his arms. But I knew myself. It had been
so long, and after everything with Topher I was not ready
to take a chance again.
After the move Vincent visited frequently as he looked
for a job. I was frustrated with him for not having a
decent job because in my mind, he needed one for us to be
together. Maybe he knew I was thinking that or maybe he
thought I was just being abrasive. I helped him with his
resume and cover letter in my own way, which wasn’t very
gentle. He was annoyed at my ways. We let our
communications slack off a bit and eventually he found a
job. On August twelfth a card arrived from him with lots
of love. As I sat there in my knee-high leather boots, and
mini skirt dressed for dancing I knew I wanted to be with
him again.
By the end of the month we were seeing each other
regularly. There were always conditions though. Each time
we’ve been together there have always been conditions.
This time it was that we could see each other for the
weekends only and for one weekend night during rugby. I
felt I could handle that. He and I forged a new path
together filled with strength. We went out together when
he came to visit. He played rugby and I cooked chili for
his teammates, having them over after the game. Sue and
Kyle came down and we had a marvelous dinner party and
played games. We took them to Annapolis and I noticed
Vince had become reflective as always happens. He loved
St. Johns and had been sad to leave mid college. It was
after that everything changed.
At the end of October I plunged headfirst into a
massive depression. I had no idea what was happening to
me. My spirit became reclusive and I had no want to step
out of my apartment on the weekends when Vincent would
visit. I began to cry at everything that happened.
Folding clothes I would cry, watching television. Making
love with Vincent. Thanksgiving came and up north with my
family I missed him so much but was so closed into my
depression I knew not what to do. When I returned home,
Vincent had laid candles aflame everywhere in the
apartment. Pictures of us from beginning to present day
were propped up everywhere and rose petals were scattered
over the carpet. My heart sank when I opened the door
because he would be disappointed in me. For I was tired
and saddened and knew not what to do with this love now.
There began his task of taking care of me better than
anyone could have. Vincent would come on the weekend and
during the week when he could. Always content to sit with
me in whatever sate I was in. He never complained about
how I was feeling. Instead he was concerned for my
health. Now and then he would push me to take a walk
outside, and one day we went to D.C., which distracted me
from my illness. Christmas was a shambles because of me.
I didn’t want to go away from home I was frightened of
everything. Going somewhere out of town was the last thing
I wanted to do but he wanted so badly to get away and have
a quiet moment to ourselves. Just Vincent and I together
in the mountains of Pennsylvania, and because of me we
fought. How could things be so different now? How could I
be the cause of our demise, when all I had ever wanted was
to be with him?
After Christmas I was in a deeper depression than
before. I began spending nights at Grams because I was
afraid to be alone. Vincent would visit, leave, and then
come all the way back because he was so worried. I didn’t
see the point in making him continue on like this. I
couldn’t fill his heart like that; I could only cause him
to grow darker and more cynical than he already was. One
morning we awoke and began discussing our relationship.
There had come a point of discussion recently about
marriage and living together. I couldn’t agree to
compromise and move away from friends, family, counselors,
and everything needed to help me. If I were even a half an
hour away it would be a strain. I’m not sure he understood
that ever. He couldn’t move here because his job is about
a hour and forty-five minutes from here. Vincent wanted to
work for his company for a year at least before changing
jobs. He had only just started his career, whereas I had
already been in mine two and a half years. We had reached
a terrible impasse coupled with my illness.
Vincent told me he didn’t believe I could love at that
point and I agreed, which he was somewhat surprised at. I
had given up. What could I do? I felt so powerless within
my depression. So there again we walked away from one
I have never loved anyone like I love him. He has been a
major part of my life for many years. During these last
two years he’s been the one coming to me when I have been
most in need. I never thought the tables would turn. That
he would love me back the way I loved him all those early
years. It’s been five months and we’ve just started
talking again. I don’t know what will happen except when I
saw him he kissed me and hugged me tightly. In his absence
I’ve dated one person who treated me horribly. Another I’m
dating now and I’m not sure how things will go. He is
dating someone as well, which is unsettling. Vincent is on
my mind constantly. No one will know me as he does, or
hold me when I cry like he does, or caress me when I
shudder like he does. I love him.