Signed in Blood
Part II:
Making the Cut
>>From: Belacqua
>>To: Perdita
>>Subject: freight trains
>>Date: Mon, 20 Nov 2000
I'm sitting here smoking a cigarette inside my apartment for the first time in a year and a half. I think if there is a god, he hates me. God, I felt good this weekend. I should never have gotten back on the plane to come back. There's nothing but a nest of thorns here. I was so calm on the airplane, so calm in the car, so calm when I got home. Then, everything blew up. I figured I might as well get all the bad shit out of the way while I was still feeling pretty good, so I called my girlfriend and ended that. I still feel terrible that I had to do it, even though I feel totally justified. Her entire family thinks I've lost my mind, and maybe I have. Who fucking knows? So I got to listen to her cry and tell me how unfair she thought it was and how hard all this is going to be. When I hung up, I felt deflated, but not bad. Then, I called my mom.
The ceiling has officially crashed on my head.
At first, my mom sounded like she was blaming me for the relationship not working, and then she started talking like I've become this raving lunatic who does drastic things when he gets upset. I apologized for being fucked up, and I cried and told her how awful I felt. She wanted me to come home or something, and she couldn't understand that that wouldn't help AT ALL and that what I did this weekend was the only thing that could have kept me alive or sane. I feel cornered again. I felt safe and warm this weekend like everything could maybe work out somehow. Now, I'm sitting here freezing cold and crying alone.
I can't stay here. I told my mom I can't stay here, and she told me to look at schools and transfer. She thinks I run away from things when I get upset, but what she doesn't realize is that that is the only way I can stare things in the face. AND I JUST CAN'T SAY THESE THINGS TO THEM BECAUSE THEY DON'T UNDERSTAND. THEY SAY, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" AND I FEEL LIKE SAYING, “IF YOU DON'T FUCKING KNOW, THEN YOU CAN'T EVER KNOW.” Then I just feel like a fuck up again.
I'm thinking about calling the emergency line at my therapist's office so I can talk to him, but I'm so scared he's going to put me back in the hospital. Then everybody will really think I'm a huge fuck up because I can't handle what's happening to me. I was so proud of myself. I thought I had taken control and done something actively to change my life, but as soon as I got that breath of freedom, everybody was right there pulling on my ankles and dragging me back down. I just don't fucking belong in this world. I’m some fucking Darwinian mistake that can't adapt to anything in my environment, and everybody is trying to make me swim when all I want to do is fucking drown. I should have stayed. I should have called from your apartment to tell everybody to fuck off. I should have stood in the terminal with you until the plane had left. I felt so GOOD. Now I'm back in my little bubble of reality gasping for air.
I’m sorry. I hate being a downer, but I feel so empty and worthless right now that I'm afraid I might disappear. I'm so lost, and I don't want to stop typing because I don't know what I'll occupy my mind with and I don't want it to just tear itself in half. But I guess I have to stop sometime.
Thank you so much for helping me this weekend. Thank you for caring. Thank you for thinking I did something sane. Thank you for making me feel like maybe I did belong somewhere. Thank you for making me happy. I guess I'll just see what's going to happen. Again. Out of control. Please write or call soon.
I love you.
Belacqua
>From: Perdita
>To: Belacqua
>Subject: Re: freight trains
>Date: Mon, 20 Nov 2000
Belacqua,
I'm not sure what I did yesterday afternoon. After I left the airport, I went back to where we had been sitting before getting on the bus to go to the airport, I got coffee and a scone at the Starbucks, and I sat smoking and staring off into space for a really long time. It always takes me a good deal of time to really put things in order in my brain. The whole concept that you had been here and then you were gone just wasn't sinking in. When I got up and left, I went home, and I don't remember what I did until my roommate got home much later.
Once she was home, I sat down to talk to her just because I needed to talk. I told her how happy I was that you had come and how good it felt to have had someone around who knows what sorts of things go on in my head. It's really amazing to me that I don't have to hide things from you; I have to hide things from everyone all the time for them to accept me even a little. So, having you here was just so liberating and wonderful for me, and I went on and on to her about how cool it was that you and I feel so similarly about so many things, and she responded by saying that she doesn't think she'd want that because she'd probably get annoyed if someone felt or thought all the same sorts of things as she did. She said she'd rather have someone significantly different from her so that she would feel more like her own person and all.
As much as I wanted to understand that, I just couldn't. It was quite obvious to me that she couldn't grasp what was going on at all. But how do you tell someone that after a lifetime of seeing blank stares and frightened reactions to things you say, it's not only wonderful, but actually essential for a continued existence to finally find someone who feels the same way? I guess it's just something people won't get. It's not like we haven't experienced that before.
It's not often that I find myself at a loss for words when I'm writing, but right now, I'm not sure exactly how to say what I want to say. I want to tell you that I'm proud of you for doing what you did this weekend. I feel kind of dumb saying that, but I don't care how many people think you're fucked up or whatever, I KNOW you needed to do what you did. It's not your fault that people can't understand the intensity of your emotions. It's easy as shit for me to take a look at you and your life and only the things you've told me about it and know that what you did was good. You can't let other people rule your life in a way that inhibits the tiny bit of happiness that might exist somewhere, and if they're trying to take that from you, they're the ones who are fucked up.
You know what's fucking hysterical? It cracks me up, but I actually felt remarkably normal this weekend. It's like when I'm by myself, I'll spend my weekends watching shitty-ass TV shows and I'll beat myself up the whole time for being such a lazy ass and needing to waste my time just to keep my mind slightly occupied. Everyone else thinks I'm a lazy ass, too, so it's hard to deny. Having you here, though, made me feel like everything I was doing was okay. I feel like you and I are on the same sort of parallel plane of existence that everyone else sort of misses somehow, and the simple fact that there were two of us instead of one made everything so much better.
I'm so glad you came. I think you're the only person in the world right now who doesn't think I'm totally worthless. My family just keeps looking at me and wondering why I'm not doing anything with my life. They're kind of afraid to talk to me, too, because they're so confused about it. My roommate seems to be becoming increasingly distant, and I'm not sure if that’s in my imagination or not. I keep trying to tell myself that I'm really lucky to have so many people who are worried about me, but worrying doesn't do any good. I don't want people to worry about me; I want them to be supportive. I want them to agree with me. I want them to understand or at least tolerate, and instead they're trying to change me or "fix" me so I'm more normal.
What a fucked up world.
I feel like I didn't get anything across in this. I don't know. Maybe you got something out of it. Now I'm just confused and I'm dying for a cigarette but I'm completely out. Ugh. Well, of all things to say, I have to tell you that I was concerned I'd meet you and be somehow disappointed, but I certainly wasn't. I think you're exactly what I expected, and now I feel even more strongly about you and everything I've said before. I sincerely hope things work out for you at school and everything right now. And you have my permission to completely disregard anything people may say that's stupid because they live in a different world. Don't let them get to you. It's not their fault they can't understand. It's just unfortunate, that's all.
I wish you could've stayed, too, but I'm sure it's good for you to be taking care of things where you are right now. Just keep in mind that there are hundreds of schools by me, any one of which I'm sure would be happy to have you at any time.
I love you.
Perdita