Signed in Blood

Part I


>>From: Belacqua
>>To: Perdita
>>Subject: Re: through school
>>Date: Thu, 9 Nov 2000

I'm still reeling from the uncanny amount of things we have in common, and not in the personal ad type of way. Our minds are on some strange parallel tracks which have somehow merged. I never thought anybody had the same thoughts and ideas that I have. I really never thought anyone had that sort of idolatrous view of attraction that I have. It's such a strange feeling because I know that if I knew the person, I wouldn't be able to stand being around them. And what's really strange is that it's not limited to females. I can notice when guys are attractive, and although I don't feel any sort of draw to them, I can appreciate physically what someone may see in them. What makes me actually drawn to a person is completely internal. That's why there's this strong pull I feel towards you. I feel like I've known you for a lot longer than a few weeks. I feel like I could look at your face and know what you felt and thought. And it does feel a little unsettling, but it's comforting too. Whenever I read your e-mails, I get completely engulfed in this whole body feeling that I don’t know the name for. When your boss yelled at you, I wanted to break his neck, and I don't know how to account for that.

You know what would be really cool? It's always been a dream of mine to live on a small island in the middle of the ocean with enough food on it to live off of and just be completely away from the entire world. It would be great if we could just sit on the sand and watch the waves and stars and just leave everybody behind...no more doctors, pills, or people...separate from the world, but not alone.

Yesterday, a friend of mine called me a dreamer. He says I get all these ideas, and I never act on them. He's probably right. I'm too much of an idealist. I can see these perfect places and perfect situations in my mind, and I can't get to them. I feel chained to the ground, and that's the most frustrating thing of all. I can see paradise, but I can't find it. Life is just a dirty alley leading to a filthier dead end. If there's one thing that's not silly, though, it's love. And it's a thousand times more meaningful from someone who has really thought about what it means to say “love.” If I thought you were throwing the word around because you liked the idea of it or you were obligated (like family), then it would be silly. I don't think very many people understand what love means, but I have a real feeling that you do.

I love you, and I hope you have a good day.
Belacqua






>From: Perdita
>To: Belacqua
>Subject: Re: through school
>Date: Thu, 9 Nov 2000

Belacqua,

I had day from hell yesterday. I had so many things to do that by the time I got home it was after 9. I can't fall asleep if I don't get home till 9. It takes me fucking forever to bring myself down from the mess I turn into at work. Generally, I get home at 5, and it takes me a good four or five hours of doing nothing but watching TV to make me relaxed enough to even think of going to sleep. Last night, I got home, had a beer, watched a few shows on TV, took drugs to help me fall asleep, and then layed awake in bed for what felt like forever. I started thinking and thinking and I twisted all up into knots and felt like I was freezing to death even under the mounds of blankets that I have on my bed. I also started to get all tingly and feeling like I was falling out my bed, even though I wasn't moving. Since I've been having so much trouble falling asleep lately, I figured it must be my meds, so I stopped taking my nightly dose and just continued with the morning one. Well, that was dumb. I'm more addicted to the drugs I'm on than I've ever been addicted to anything, and trust me, I've been addicted to lots of things. So, last night's coldness, tingling, and falling sensations were undoubtedly withdrawal symptoms. I had to get up and take the drugs, and then I fell right asleep.

I don't understand it. I have to keep raising and lowering dosages of medications, and they help for awhile and then stop working. My drugs are seriously getting to me these days. I can't stand the fact that I have to take them at all, and I'm incurably jealous of anyone who doesn't have to be on drugs all the time. I'm imprisoned by my drugs. But at least I feel somewhat better today, as the sudden jump back up in the meds has provided a much needed boost to my serotonin.

At one point yesterday, I stopped by a nearby mall. There's an inlet behind the mall that flows in from a river, and usually there's a fountain running and people eating at picnic tables and all. It was a little chilly when I was there, though, so I was the only person around and the fountain had been shut off. I sat down to have a smoke by the water, and I just stared at the reflection of all the lights. The water was so perfectly still and calm that I wanted to cry. No one was bothering the water. It was just sitting there peacefully. Even though I was doing the same thing by sitting there quietly, my mind was still running around in circles, torturing me. I swear anything without a brain is the luckiest thing in existence. Why can't I be like the water? After a little while, I started to feel like the water was taunting me, laughing at me because I'll never feel like it does. I'll never feel that calm, that peaceful, that perfect.

Your mention of an isolated island certainly does sound inviting. Christ, what I wouldn't give to be taken from this hellish, monotonous existence of work, home, work, home, all tinged with an air of injustice, hypocrisy, and hopelessness and stashed in between the surrounding hordes of mindless little shits. I'm actually surprised by my own reaction to it because I've always felt so lonely that I simply NEED to have people around, not IN my life but just AROUND me so I could perceivably convince myself that I'm not alone. I'm sure I couldn't feel alone, though, if you were there. It's the fact that no one could even begin to understand my world that's always made me feel so alone. But I know you understand.

There's nothing wrong with being a dreamer, you know. We need to be able to escape somehow, don't you think? At least you and I realize the impossibilities imposed on us by the world. Most people have certain goals they hope to reach, and they can somehow go after those things, even though they'll never achieve them. They're the idealists. Even if they ever realize they haven't achieved any of what they set out to do, they're unable to recognize their own failure. They just try harder to convince themselves they're happy. They're usually successful at fooling themselves, too. It never ceases to amaze me.

And you're right: I don't throw the word “love” around recklessly. I can't tell someone I love them when I know they have no idea how intensely I feel things. I echo my parents when they tell me they love me, but other than that, I've only addressed the word to someone once.

Well, again I'm gonna say one of those ridiculous things that even I can't believe I'm saying, but I want you to know that you have a standing invitation to come visit me any time you want. I don't care if you're depressed and you decide you just need to see someone who can understand or if you just happen to end up sitting on my doorstep someday on a whim, I'll be more than happy to see you and give you a place to stay for a few days.

I love you. Write soon.
Perdita



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