Thursday, June 13, 2002

With her, there was never anything to discuss. Or was there just never anything to discuss with me? Because I don't believe that she didn't want intimacy with anyone.

Then again, she was raised in such an oppressive, superficially-oriented, ambition-hungry environment, with a real fascist bastard for a father, what should I expect. Typical Anglican east-coast WASPs transplanted to the Midwest. A little Martha Stewart. No wonder she's such a wench.

It was my need to care for everyone, my faith that everyone is ultimately capable of love that did me in. That combined with her absolute childishness.

Look at what a saint I'm painting myself as. Well, I'm no saint. I don't have her side of the story.

I'd like to have her side. That's what I'm missing. I want completeness, wholeness, integration, to heal.

But like I said, with her there was never anything to discuss.

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