I'm working on about two and a half hours of sleep, so please forgive any flights of fancy that occur during this. It's raining here in D.C.. I'm afraid that by no stretch of the imagination can this be considered an improvement.
I've had the song "Sweet Jane" stuck in my head since last night. No, not the stupid Buttfuck Cowboys (or whatever) version from Natural Born Killers. The original Velvet Underground with Lou Reed "Sweet Jane". Specifically from Live ‘69. With the extended part that goes, "Heavenly wine and roses/Seem to whisper to me/When you smile/Nah-nah-nah-nah Naaaaaah-Naaaaah-Naaaaaah", and not much else of the original lyrics.
The first time I ever danced with someone, it was to that song. Back in ‘95, sometime in March, Ken was over at my house, playing Live ‘69 on my house stereo. "Sweet Jane" came on, and I can't remember why, but when he asked me to dance, he phrased it, "Does Agent Skatter dance?" While we danced slowly in the darkened living room, Ken whispered/sang the lyrics to the extended part in my ears. I never cared what the song was supposed to be about. The only thing that mattered was the fact that it was "our" song. Whenever I heard it, I'd remember that afternoon, the first tentative days of courtship before we started dating.
Okay, I admit, all of my memories of Kenneth weren't bad. And I wasn't desperately unhappy for the entire time we were dating. Just the last year. Just after I realized that I didn't really love him, and no amount of lying to myself would change that.
I couldn't tell you when I quit loving him. I can't remember the exact day it occurred. What I can tell you is that it was the result of a lot of realizations over a couple months. Understanding that we were nothing alike was a big part of it. He was always driven to save the world, always had overblown ideas about "the way he deserved to be treated by other people". He got kicked out of houses he'd been living in, almost lost a job at McDonald's, of all places. All because he thought they were fucking with his "rights as a human being." In short, he was a fanatic. And I wasn't.
His friends said, and still say, when I encounter them, that I didn't deserve such a kind, caring man. I say we were nothing alike, and had no business dating as long as we did. Imagine, to use a trite analogy, a cat and a canary dating. We did not hold the same things to be important, and the only thing that held me to him for as long as we were together was my fear of being alone.
Please don't forget that I hate him. This sudden fit of nostalgia doesn't change that fact. I didn't hate him until after I broke up with him, though. It wasn't until then that he showed me that he'd only been interested in the person he thought he could mold me into, not the person I was.
Yet more proof that soul-searching is bad for you.
Dirk told me what he wants....a something-or-other guitar pickup in white. Humbucker, if that means anything. Anyway, we're going shopping for it tomorrow. I'm finally getting paid.
Have I mentioned how glad I am that Dirk has a job? I am absolutely ecstatic!!! I wish he didn't have to work on Tuesdays and Thursdays, though. I miss him.
Is this easier or harder to read? I can't decide. I've been told a couple of times that my entries are difficult to read because of the light backgrounds and the smallish lettering. Let Me Know.