an inevitable confrontation

Well, I suppose I should contextualize my previous post. I’m going to be disgustingly naked with everything that happened. I’ve got to rip the whole fucking thing open and lay it out. I’ve got to be honest with myself because I believe my most recent “episode” is the result of an inevitable confrontation between myself and, what I’ll refer to as, the other self.

I wrote previously that WS, a girl I briefly “dated” some fourteen years ago (I was 19, she 16), contacted me via Facebook. That night we chatted for nearly three hours and during that time something was sparked inside me. So many memories came back, and it many ways, it was as if few things had changed, from familiar quirks of conversation to shared memories – vivid memories.

My mind began racing, and being someone who doesn’t believe in fate or destiny, I found myself suspending that opinion and considering the notion that, Maybe this was meant to be. This notion was further bolstered by the apparent deconstruction of my relationship with GF, which had been more and more evident leading up to WS’s contact.

The night of our initial contact would be the peak of our contact. Subsequent text messages and attempted phone calls were either ignored or responded with empty gestures. So I then began asking such things like, If I’m bothering you or you regret contacting me, fine. I understand and I’ll never contact you again. Just let me know. I never received a response to those messages.

But before my “obsessive” and “demanding” communication occurred, I purchased a vase she was selling on eBay. I did this because, as she told me, she was just starting an eBay thing to supplement her income and needed purchases to help bolster her feedback rating.

It was the time between the actual purchase and arrival of said vase that my communication became “obsessive” and “demanding.” Again, if my contact was becoming a nuisance, then I would have expected her to express this somehow, whether through an e-mail or text message. But this never happened.

So I receive the vase a few days ago and then decided to return it. I a) wanted to return it because it appeared somewhat differently from the auction and b) had grown upset at her lack of communication.

I then informed her via eBay message that I was going to return it – and that’s when she unleashed a series of insulting text messages and the one eBay message posted earlier.

I basically said, Forget it, I’ll keep the vase, give it as a gift and give you positive feedback on your eBay profile.

My initial intention in purchasing the vase was indeed to help her eBay profile. But things disintegrated, and I gradually realized the three-hour exchange that filled me with feelings of “fate” and “destiny” were delirious. And I don’t mean a simple, one-faceted delirium, but a deeply rooted derangement that borders on psychosis.

The fact that I had visions – hopes, even – of reuniting with her and beginning a new relationship based on words – simple words sent though impersonal internet and cellular means – is beyond absurd.

There’s a part in the film High Fidelity in which John Cusack’s character experiences an epiphany. He realizes that the “other women” from his current and past are simply “fantasies.” His idealization of each fantasy always falls short of reality and, essentially, he takes his present girlfriend for granted.

That scene strikes me in two different ways; for one, it is very similar to my current situation and past behavior – the whole fantasy thing and taking your girlfriend for granted; however, Cusack’s character also seems very unlike me, in that my “fantasies” are far removed from his. And much darker. Sometimes frightening so. And those dark dreams seem to emanate from, as a mentioned in the first paragraph, this other self.

This other self creates these disturbing fantasies (sexual and otherwise). And it’s these fantasies that make seem expendable the one person who loves me unconditionally. And this obviously bothers me immensely.

More later.



~ by the coordinates of memories on 21 May 2011.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: