2005-02-27 - 3:17 p.m.
I lived with L. in late 1996. We had met working on a movie and I moved in with her way too soon. Our relationship has been charitably characterized as �passionate�, but �psychotic� might be a better description. Basically, any time we weren�t in bed together (although we did do this a good deal � it was a pretty involved and complex sexual affair), we were at each other�s throat.
We may indeed have had a turbulent relationship and an ugly break-up (I think I may have spit � not my finest hour), but the truth is that it didn�t really have a lot of long term impact on my life. Much like High Fidelity, I just put her on my top 5 list so Alithea wouldn�t get a spot. Over the summer I realized I was just fooling myself. Welcome Alithea � you�re #1 with a bullet.
Now the fact is that since then, I�ve changed so much. Only a few months ago, thinking about her made me very sad. Hearing her voice made me cry. But now, thinking of her doesn�t make me feel much of anything. Vaguely tired, I guess. A little played.
Our life together already feels like a long long time ago and it�s kind of hard to remember the details of bad stuff. People have asked recently why we broke up. I�m not sure I can really articulate much at the moment beyond �well, it just didn�t work out�. Now, please don�t get the idea that I spend endless time dwelling on this. I realize that a lot of stuff I write about took place a while before, but it�s not like I still obsess about these things. I�m just slow to consider and recount them. (This journal would probably be tiresome to read if I just blathered my initial thoughts.)
The capacity of the heart to heal and feelings to change is absolutely amazing. I could never invoke the emotion now to compose her prayer. So this is the best I can do for now.
Alithea could be so sweet. She�d sing songs about me. My nickname was �Mushyface�. (There, I admitted it.) At first I didn�t like this, cause I thought it meant I was fat or something. But she pointed out others who are mushy but not fat (Kevin Spacey is a prime example) and I realized �mushy� had an emotional component of comfort and warmth that she couldn�t quite come out and say.
She�d make me food. Cooking is a dying art and she was amazing. The way to a man�s heart is through his stomach. Food is love and it can say things that can never be expressed in words. I know she sometimes wished I�d eat more, that I were some football-type with a bottomless gullet. But I ate as much as I could, even when I wasn�t hungry, even when I was eating for two due to body-image food-avoidance on her part, because I knew it meant far more than just food. Every bite was delicious.
We spoke our own language. Maybe this always happens when you share a life with someone and we did for so long through so much. I saw her through the college I couldn�t finish. I gave support when she felt lost during her time in Germany. While she was studying for the LSAT, I tried to be the best (and quietest) partner I could be.
She could see the good guy behind the travesty I was and brought him out to become the me I am today. I couldn�t have dealt with getting sick without her. I couldn�t have applied to Brown without her. Last year we lived together in Boston (I commuted to school over an hour and a half each way and worth every minute). I�d wake up in the morning and see this beautiful person next to me and wonder how I got so lucky. We lived across from the Fenway and I think the happiest I�ve ever been is eating a supermarket-steamed lobster out on some bleachers there and knowing that when I went back inside, the most amazing person ever would have a glass of wine with me.
And Alithea could be so cruel. Especially towards the end. I suspect she actually broke up with me a while before and just forgot to tell me. I would send her text messages saying it was a beautiful day and she was a beautiful girl. Eventually she told me to stop cause they cost 2 cents to receive. She stopped paying her part of the rent. Although not destitute, I�m certainly not a rich man and I dug up resources to cover that I didn�t even remember I had � Israel bonds given at age 3 and a gift of stock from my bar mitzvah.
Why didn�t I put my foot down? Didn�t I know what was happening even if she couldn�t come out and say it? I suppose I did subconsciously. I just wanted to hang on to every last moment I could. Pathetic? Well, maybe. It was a long time ago; it feels like forever.
I�m not bitter, even if some have said I should be. I couldn�t bring myself to hate her then and even now I can�t. If you really want to go back in time, check out this song by my friends� band which I listened to a lot during our endgame. I�m down with you even on the eve of destruction. Even long after.
I haven�t seen her in months and I stopped trying to contact her when I finally realized she�d long stopped trying to reach me. I haven�t seen her for months and we�ve barely communicated. I�m a little academically curious about how law school�s going and whether she�s found a summer associateship. But really I can only wish her the best. She was the time of my life, but I still have a lot of living ahead.
� 2005 Geoff Gladstone
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