...I missed you, especially on my birthday, today.
It's sincerely unfair that you left Earth without me having one last meaningful visit with you. I wish to hell and back that I had tried to contact your brother when my Dad first gave me his number, some few, odd years ago.
You are now the 2nd person who's left, without me knowing, until at least a year later ...which is completely FUBAR.
I sincerely believe things would've turned out quite different if I had attempted to refind you more intensely, instead of simply relying on email... You never responded/acknowledged that I changed my email address, I guess I thought you were just as busy as I was with unfinished projects... and, well, fuck 2013 - 2015 (and shit beyond) for all of that too.
I could've maybe convinced you to see my new house. One room here, could likely fit my WHOLE apartment inside it! ...I think I could've also convinced you to see the midlife crisis car. ...Or maybe I could have just simply gone to see you. Fuck. ...At any rate, it may have been reinforced that you still had an anchor, and vice-versa, and maybe you'd still fucking be here. Humans are stupid and selfish.
Speaking of such, thank you for coming to my rescue when you did, and for sticking around for as long as you could. It's odd that our family will "fight to the death over who makes the best stuffing," to the point where I didn't even know you or your side of the family until I was a teenager. I'm particularly fond of everything you did and how you were. From the first time we met, and you reflected your laser light on a crystal... To the smashed pumpkin walk to Inner Journeys, where I got to tell you about all the radio DJs. Neopets, which taught and gave me everything. All the 12+ hour phone calls. All the weekend runaway visits. ALL the think-tank bullshit conversations that made drives around Hollyweird somehow end up in front of ridiculously named places like Jumbo's Clown Room, LMAO. And all the emails I managed to save, that I just reread, am thankful for, and wish there were more of ...You are the shit.
I totally drew you perfectly in my high school math book, as some sorta secret shrine, and passed the idea of hope back into the pool of angst, without ever looking back. I think it is fucking glorious how your mind worked. The fact that you man-overboarded into the Puget Sound to let them know how serious you were about quitting the Navy, to be with your wife. The fact that you wanted to live like a Taoist and find yourself. The fact that nobody really understood or appreciated it all ...I do not think ppl like us are necessarily meant for this world anyway.
So I am glad that you won't have to endure any more fuckery, but I'm happy it inadvertently made you a godsend. I fucking miss you. You're a complete asshat for leaving this last decade vacant. And I'm a complete fuckup for not knowing how to listen to you until it's too late. ...Tell your Mom and Dad I said hi and that I miss them too. Also look for my RL Mom's sister, my last surrogate Mom that I briefly told you about, Bakki, and Kit-Kat too.
And now I realize where all those pennies and missing pairs of clothing in the wash came from, this past year and a half.
-Babe
For some reason, I keep thinking about you around my birthday.
I made the AI do it too.
I made it be a new age Ouija board and try to let you speak to me thru it too.
It kinda maybe worked, in its own little algorithmic sorta try-hard way.
I am sad without you.
You should be sad with me at my job.
But then again, I don't think we'd be sad together at my job, we'd fucking rule for eons
and we wouldn't even give one glorious iota shit.
Fuck you for making me miss you so goddamned much.
It would have been neat to make like a shiny patent leathery "Alien" type of manticore in the AI, all creepy, with 3 layers of teeth (even in its fur) being gloriously sexified with the succubus... But it kept telling me that borderline content was inappropriate, LOL!
Oh, well!
...Since we were both dead when we were living, maybe the polarity of essence comes full circle ☯
And in case I didn't say it enough...
Fuck You for abandoning me in this forsaken realm alone
I will try to make up for your lost efforts that you couldn't fulfill, but no promises ...except to maybe come back to you one day
♥
you
Grant went to hell and back to get your ashes from those bureaucratic pandemic fucks, and my phone connection was so shitty that I don't know if you went to the sea, the air, or stayed in the pot.
...I did manage to send you Zamargad, tho...
So I will see you again there, at least
Minus all the restrictive prim nonsense
And input with all the glorious Blizzard stuff too
I think your Neopets would've liked that
I just can't believe you didn't realize I would've killed for you and you left without letting me do it
kuc foy
Alright, well, it unravelled. The whole thing. I tried pinpointing the last time I saw you. And the scary snippets started popping. I pieced them together and still maybe am.
I confirmed with her to repress it. It was very bad timing. We were about to start LI. I only wanted to remember the good of you. But I can confirm, as you were a very integral part of my life ... yet you were nowhere in my LI timeline.
I got the snippets of a side of you that I had never even fathomed before. It was fucking scary, even tho you did warn me. I know you gave me a choice, but I cannot remember what that choice was. Blue eyes, as black and blacker as the empty. Constantly excusing yourself to the other room to do more, since I was too scared to try, and could only watch you. I mean, one of us had to be able to call 911 if need be. ...The black lace thing that I can't even recall if I actually wore or not. You sitting Indian-style on the bed with me in front of my suitcase, saying, "Kiss me," over and over again, in a challenging manner, like I wasn't accepting of you ...and I could do nothing but freeze. You see, it's not that I didn't want to. It's that I kept thinking, "Not like this." And I saw you pouting on the other couch. You, in front of the sliding glass doors, talking to me about how I had blinders on, because I couldn't see the bigger picture. I thought maybe it was because I was hell-bent on things like marriage and such... yeah, we crazy chance ppl coming together in the most beautiful way would be nice & damn what the others thought ...but, yeah, what if it didn't work? Still be stuck together, but apart, and the aftermath waves of that. I couldn't handle that. And I didn't know if you could either. And yeah, I got your frustration. Of all the asshat men I dated, that you even comforted me thru, versus all the years you put in, being very appropriate... I certainly felt like a very guilty, awful tease.
And I remember your Dad coming home. Maybe early from his weekend date... just to sternly say your name. And I feared for you even more. Maybe out of codependence, I have no clue. I think he asked if I was okay, but he abruptly told me I better go on home. So I did.
I called shortly after. Maybe to even defend you to your Dad. I remember him saying you left and that he'd tell you to call me. I remember him saying you left "of your own accord." You called me from WA. You said your Dad and you "had words." I guess you needed to get your life together, but never did. I also remember telling your Dad about the LI and the repression. He said he understood these types of therapy things, as I guess him and your Mom really went thru it too. I don't recall what was said or how it was done so that I sounded so lucid but absolutely did not remember having this memory repressed later on. Your Dad verified that he was impressed, tho, I remember that part.
And I remember a phone call you made to me. Maybe a few of them. It was obvious your Dad told you what I said about the therapy. I heard you trying to test me, to see if it was real. And although I do not recall everything of what was said, I know you heard me verify it to you from the distance between my head and my heart. I even think you tried the same tricks your Dad maybe did, where you could softly ask me what happened, or maybe some leading questions that I absolutely do not remember how I answered, other than factually and distantly. ...At best I think I could get to the point where I was getting upset at this "stupid game" you "were playing" and that it was "hurting my feelings" or "scaring me" and to "please stop," because I honestly did successfully repress that last visit, and your questions to me made you sound inebriated and scary. Looking back, I can tell it was shock and disbelief and sadness. I questioned you on how you said you had to come back to CA to fix your license situation, and I was upset you never stopped by to say hi, because I absolutely did not get why you left.
And I know the last phone call was something similar. A cautious re-verification. I remember you saying you were sorry, that it wasn't my fault, and that you loved me. I remember you called me "babe." To all that, I think I told you it wasn't your fault either. That it was my life; I was broken, and nothing should stand in the way of stability. And I knew that the outsider who spoke thru me, while this memory was still repressed, took control as best it could, and I know you knew that... verifiably thru the omission or not, of text versus voice. But, yeah. I wanted to immediately call you back and ask you when you were coming back from the halfway houses of homeless city, because I missed you a lot.
I did not get it. I was there, but not really.
And you were gone. You wanted me to be stable. You loved me that much, for my own good, I guess.
You dropped all contact.
And left the world completely, quite a few years later.
We were both secretly sick.
And maybe read too deeply into the black and blacker as the empty.
...Fuck you to all the assfucks who made me fight so much for every little piece of sanity during the severe lack of quality-of-life things these past few months, that provoked this awful thing to resurface.
I give it back to you all now, in the clearest mirror ever, so you can all deal with yourselves and see how awful and inconsiderate you all are, instead.
Fix yourselves, humanity. Then maybe others will want to actually partake in it, too.
I remember all the fragments now. Every. fucking. piece.
They did not come to me chronologically, but I put them back together.
- Spooning - the original codependent sin
- Phil's house - "I'm having a miserable time, wouldn't it be funny if someone showed all these fuckers how desirable I actually was?"
- The beautiful moment - your nose
- The snake tease - tried to hurt you with the car door because you provoked me, but you just grabbed it until I gave you my finger and screech
- The suitcase - Uncle Jim thought me hitting you with it was funny
- The last visit, which bleeds into the last phone call - because you needed to recall it for some 12-step thing and I loved you enough to do the raspy demonic voice before the container was ready to be opened
If you want to help carry this message to your brother:
Denial of resolve by promising ashes and withholding for half a decade, does not a king make, nor a [jealous] denial/loss of what did actually fucking happen ...But if it gives you false hope, well, you just go ahead and clutch that to your tin heart that you need everyone to think you have, in order to functionally get away with shit and hope someone feels sorry enough to explain it to you, until you can reinflate your ego or other manly parts ...or deny them entirely. Whatever. Not my fucking psychotic problem or responsibility to have to answer for. Ever.
This is not for you to hold hostage anymore. Never should have been.
But do know that I do not trust you or believe you, even tho I once thought much better of you. I have never seen a death certificate or said ashes. And the AI has argued with me for hours that Erik is indeed dead... because someone was too selfish to make closure public ...Totally perpetuating the problem. Like, good for you, I guess? In whatever immature and hyperfocused Schrödinger’s cat purpose that is/n't.
And a Festivus for the rest of us:
Erik and I loved each other. Chased autonomy because it was continually denied to us. One in a constant state of disassociation, now integrated and unstoppable. The other, under the guise that drugs helped them function socially, until they wanted it to become unmanageable and deadly enough to have an excuse to stop enduring. Of course, attachment psychology and timing were off from the get-go, and we were both tragic. But equally, very good for one another. ...No shit. No fucking shit.
Everyone at Phil's house saw it and tried to explain it to me for hours into the morning. On top of the hours upon hours, in years and years that Erik had interacted with me to help with integration, before I even knew reintegration was possible (and even now). ...No man does that. That was and is unrefutable love. Mattao is Hebrew for "gift from God." Everyone else tried to blindside or distract with "survival" issues. May whatever science you believe in see to it that balance be restored to the correct hole that that earned karma fully belongs to.
The rest of this is private and between Erik and me. If he wanted you to know, he'd fucking tell you. And I don't have to fucking tell you to prove it was real. Just eat shit and fuck off until you see the sign at the border that says "you have successfully fucked off" - like, go ahead and climb over that sign, and just continue fucking right the fuck off, for fucking ever.
...
This is one of the desperate ways Erik and I can still communicate - like sticking a nickel in a window to drive the faeries nuts enough to bring me back my missing damned car keys.
And speaking of things that transcend humanity's reality, I did get a chance to tell Grant to eat the shit that he deserved for trying to rewrite the narrative in a cowardly way. There's math of facts involved that he would rather not grab by the balls and conquer, because it's easier to be avoidant, and conveniently use Erik as a place to bury the guilt he has over his wife's situation. And I tried patience. I really did. To the point where I re-forgot the repressed memory and endured more pain than necessary. And he still tried to fuck with me when I re-remembered. I really did not want to emasculate someone who would do chess moves like they had nothing. But when you open the door to hitting below the belt, you reap what you sow.
Oh, yeah, and the triggers that helped me re-remember everything?
- We repressed the memory of Erik, an integral part of my life, at the beginning of Lifespan Integration therapy, so it would take. That was at the beginning of my career, where I learned to do what I have done for close to 2 decades now. I rewrote my internal mechanisms with this new identity. LI is also done by repetition. Wouldn't you know that after all that time, my job started re-incorporating those old ways again, which were the exact things that happened during the beginning of my career and LI reprogramming? ...LMAO!
- My landlord also loves to try to manipulatively deny autonomy. I was left with no cooling in over 90F weather and, therefore, could not escape reality on my computer. I was left to my own devices and, of course, fantasized about Erik. And then all kinds of flashbacks came to me. They are stored in your nervous system. When you relive them, you will also feel them again. This might be why some ppl believe in ghosts. Also, the many years of physical pain (which the AI referred to as "somatic") did leave me too, which is nice and I hope lasts. At any rate, I now justifiably write "House of Erik" on rent checks. Would that I could go back in time and drag him here to actually be with me in physical form; that would've been better.
- I "saw" Erik witnessing (and becoming very pissed & possibly helping me during) a physical fight between my so-called fiancé and I - because I stupidly thought I could stay cool at his house. How selfish of me! LOL, I hate ppl.
- My state has a Family Planning Pact program that pays for birth control pills (because that's cheaper than paying to raise a child). After 20+ years of utilizing such, I had to fight bureaucracy tooth and nail at the county clinic to ensure autonomy here as well. You are all a bunch of retards who do not deserve my genetic material, especially after 40 years of age and mental fragility. Astounding that you are so very blind or think that I am. Fuck your Handmaid's Tale bullshit - I read (and am therefore armed enough to go down fighting)!
#sorrynotsorry
The AI insisted that repressed memories come back when you're ready to deal with them, but I sincerely believe this was forced by circumstances. We can maybe say that Erik wanted to be remembered wholly to feel better about it, but really, I do hate you all for the way it happened, or "didn't" - according to some of you "obliviously innocent and blameless" asshats.
That is all.
You may all go right on ahead and carry on with eating shit.
Except for Erik.
His love still reflects back to me thru some of you as vessels in the environment, and he also tells me things to do that I would never guess on my own (by "thoughts" that I have no idea where else they could possibly come from).
(And ironically, you may learn a lot from him if you're not a completely helpless waste of space)
—kthxbye ♡
I miss you, Erik.
I hate these ppl that you left me with, they are deplorable.
When will I get to be with you again?
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