Friday, October 19, 2001

My day was going to die, wrapped and suffocated in the arms of neglegance that I let in when I went to answer the door for him and he wasn't there.

But knowing beforehand that he wouldn't be coming, not believing, really, but know, I put in a movie that I had rented because I had seen it's name on the lists of movies that people find most depressing. I had hoped to become absorbed enough to forget....no, to convince myself that I wasn't expecting him. I didn't know, though, that the movie would make it impossble for me to cry about his absence.

Crying about him right now seems like crying for a grain of sand that gets caught in the wind in the desert. I cannot help myself now, I feel like I should cry....rather like I am still crying, in my own way, about my father, and Mr. Ladd, and....imaginary characters and real life situations and boating accidents and rape. I feel that I am still crying about how well the fiction blends into the fact, I feel that I have just watched some characters play out my life, and at the same time, something entirely foreign.

"Ordinairy People". The mother is my father, and she has no emotional connection with her son...the one that's still alive, anyway. His father is naive and loving, his father is my mother and neither understand what is going on.

His counselor called him Kiddo.....I'm sure Mr. Ladd called everyone that.....I don't let anyone call me that anymore.

My father calls everyone pet names, so do I. I didn't think I was taking after him, I thought I was taking after Diana McKeage....I remember how wonderful I thought it was that she called everyone "Babe" indiscriminately and I remember deciding to do that...and I do. I guess I didn't know then that my father does it. Maybe that's why I found it so wonderful. I don't know. I'm not sure I know anything anymore.

I want everything back that I once had, and I want......I don't know. I miss Mr. Ladd right now, I can't afford to miss my father. I am listening to "Hello Again". If you didn't or don't get the newsletter, the one serious issue was about my father, and the CRT coffee house, and his singing "Hello Again".

I think this is the third time in a row I'm listening to this. It might be the second.

I wonder what happened to Jeff tonight.


on with it~