Signed in Blood
Part III:
Bleeding the Wound
>>From: Belacqua
>>To: Perdita
>>Subject: an interesting surprise.
>>Date: Mon, 11 Dec 2000
I was pulling into my parking space at my apartment building, having just returned from the airport, I turned around, and what did I see? My parents’ car was pulling in right behind me. They had apparently decided earlier in the day to come and visit me and take me to dinner, and since I wasn't home to get the message, they decided to come up anyway. They just happened to get into town at exactly the same time I did. My god, they scared the living shit out of me when I saw them because I thought surely I was in some huge trouble. This is the first time they've come up to visit me just for the hell of it. We walked into the apartment, and the alcohol was all over the place and the airport parking receipt was lying on the counter, so I told them my neighbors were up last night and we had a little party. I just tried to snatch everything else up before they could see them. My heart is still pounding from the shock of seeing them there.
I stood in the airport terminal right in front of your plane for about ten minutes because I told myself I wouldn't leave until I couldn't see the plane anymore, but I just couldn't do it. I was swallowing tears and I hate crying in public, so I had to leave. I am so glad you came. I'm still astounded by the feeling of being able to be yourself around someone without worrying that they'll run away screaming. And I'm afraid I may start gushing here in a minute, so you'll have to excuse that. I walk around all the time and feel so empty, like a walking shell, but when I'm with you, my chest feels so full it could burst. It feels right like nothing else in the world does. See, I told you a gush was coming. And thank you for my bear. I love it. I haven't put him down since I got home. He makes me feel like you aren't so far away.
<time shift>
My friend just came in. I have now officially been intervened. I make myself so mad because I kept telling myself I was going to fight back and try to force him to see that it wasn't any big deal and I wasn't going to be walked on, but I just can't be mean. I think I actually apologized to him. I thought he was going to take my knives away from me, but he didn't. I did tell him that it wasn't something that I could or particularly wanted to stop, and he didn't like that, but for right now, he accepted it. I can see what he's trying to do because he made me make him a promise that I wouldn’t hurt myself tonight. So, I promised him. I wasn't planning on it, anyway. But I can see him starting to do that everyday. Then he’ll make me promise not to do it for a week. At some point, I'm going to have to either break my promise or refuse to make it.
He told his girlfriend about it, and she wanted to call my parents. I have them both really scared, and I fucking hate that. I was calm and passive during the entire conversation, though, until he told me suicide was cowardly. Then I fucking went off on him. I can't listen to that shit. Hell, how many cultures now and in the past regarded suicide as honorable? We think it's cowardly because of the Christian moral ethic that has been weaved into our consciousness. I told him I thought knowing that you would be miserable for the rest of your life and cowering down to let it beat you up was cowardly, and to face death and say, "Fuck you," was a hell of a lot more honorable. Dying takes courage. There's something terrifying about the unknown, and I think it's honorable and courageous that I don't whimper before death and live in mortal fear of the beyond. But he doesn't fucking GET IT, and it's one of those points you can't argue because either you see it or you don't, and there's no convincing one way or the other.
I just checked and I don't start school after Christmas until January 8, so if I have the funds, and I should, I'll try to get a flight sometime before that. If that's cool with you. There's another stupid thing I do. I'm always tiptoeing around, scared to breathe because I’m afraid I'll screw something up. I come across as cold to a lot of people because I censor myself so severely that most of the time I can't even speak. I just KNOW I'll say something stupid. People tell me that I can't possibly hurt their feelings or alienate me from them by something I do or say, so I take it and I try to hammer it into my head, but it just won't stay. I'm so afraid of doing something wrong that I come off as aloof and stiff and awkward. And I KNOW it's all stupid and I'm putting myself through agony over nothing, but something in me doesn't know that yet, and it's still terrified. I always feel like it's just a matter of time before I do something wrong and fuck something else up.
Anyway, I hope your flight was okay and you got back home safe and sound. Thank you so much again for coming, and for my bear, and for the alcohol, and for being who you are, and for being alive.
I love you.
Belacqua
>From: Perdita
>To: Belacqua
>Subject: Re: an interesting surprise.
>Date: Mon, 11 Dec 2000
Belacqua,
Oh, sigh.... Yesterday, I got on the plane, and I was so happy to see that I was sitting in the back row so there were fewer people surrounding me, and I had the perfect place to squish my coat up into a pillow and try to lean against the window and sleep with my puppy. So I arranged myself and started trying to forget that I was on a plane at all and that I was leaving you, and for a minute I was perfectly comfortable and all, and then my brain went crazy and I started missing you so much that I actually felt sick to my stomach. I couldn't believe that I was actually stupid enough to LEAVE, when all I wanted to do was stay with you. So I got all mad at myself for putting myself in this position again where I'm making myself suffer. But I sure as hell can't NOT see you because seeing you makes everything so much easier to handle.
Okay, this may be weird, but I have to go into a story here. You see, I've known some pretty fucked up people. I've known people who've done more drugs than I even knew existed and I've been to parties where people got to know each other by cutting one another and tasting their blood. These people made me feel a lot better during school because at least I knew I wasn't the only person who was drawn to dark things and painful things and things most of the world was afraid of. But I realized this weekend that I've never encountered anyone else who cut themself because it was the only thing to do. Those people I knew in school would cut themselves because they thought it made them look tough or cool or whatever. I don't necessarily cut myself because I love to or want to or try to, but I HAVE to. It's not really something I have a choice about. So when I saw your arm and legs, I felt so completely relieved to see that you GET that.
When I was in high school, I cut myself with razors and I did a lot of punching walls and shit like that. My parents started freaking out about my arms, so I tried to stop doing it, but it just kept getting worse. My sophomore year in college, I started cutting myself with the blade of a pair of sewing scissors I had because they were the sharpest thing I could come across, and my roommate spent so much time "borrowing" my scissors but actually just taking them and hiding them in her room so I couldn't find them. Eventually, I started buying knives and she pretty much gave up, but the point is that I see your cuts and I can't tell you not to do it, and I don't WANT to tell you not to do it because they prove to me that your pain is so much like mine, and I know it's something that must be done. It's like they're a big fucking sign on you that says, "I'm like you," and it makes me absolutely frozen with disbelief. I could never ask you to stop; I'd never want to take that away from you, even though I hate having to know that you're suffering the way I am.
I'm sure your friend means well and all, but christ, people just don't UNDERSTAND. I can totally respect that he cares and wants to help, and I guess he's doing what he thinks he should. What he doesn't get is that our world is so much different from his, and he's trying to force into your mind exactly the things that can never be forced into his. Do you know what I mean? I don't know if that came across right.
In any case (this e-mail is turning into one giant, sickening gush), one of the things that I find amazing about you is that I actually feel like I can sit next to you and know what you're thinking. I mean, that's not totally unheard of for me, but generally I find myself trying to fight against what people are thinking or I'm planning a way to get them to stop thinking it because it's something I don't want them to think since it's SO DIFFERENT from how I think. But I'm sitting next to you on the couch and I KNOW what you're thinking and I just don't know how to tell you it's okay, but I've missed so many opportunities in my lifetime that I can't let myself do that anymore so I HAVE to say something and prepare myself for another huge fucking let-down. I'm so glad I said something, though. I'm so glad I went to visit you. I'm so glad you're you, and I'm so glad you accept me and can see at least part of how much I accept you.
My theory on the whole suicide being cowardly thing is that people think it's cowardly if they're too scared to think about it. They can't comprehend the whole idea, so they tell themselves and everyone else that it's cowardly because they don't want to have to think about it. If someone told me they thought suicide was cowardly, I think I'd lose it. They have no idea how hard it is to want nothing more than to kill yourself and have the knife poised above your wrist, and you're trying desperately to gather the strength to push down hard enough. They have no idea. I'd like to see them try. What could be more terrifying? Death is like a huge fucking sea monster, and they think it's noble to run AWAY from it? What the hell is that? When people tell me shit like that, I give them a big, fake smile, nod, and say, "Yeah, okay."
I'm glad you stuck up for that fact. It's probably never going to occur to your friend that you're right, but hell, at least he acknowledges your opinion and realizes that you have your right to that. I know how hard it is to stick up for yourself or your thoughts when so many people think you're fucked up, so this probably isn't going to make much of a difference, but I just want to tell you that you should never be apologetic for how you feel and who you are because you're the most amazing person I've ever met, and if you weren't you, I wouldn't love you as much as I do.
In a sick way, I find it absolutely hysterical that your parents decided it would be a good time to show up at your place yesterday. Can you imagine what would've happened if they showed up while I was still there? That cracks me up. I'm so happy to stay in my world and be with you in our world, and when other people interfere with that or try to get inside of it, it just makes me laugh. Don't get me wrong; it definitely would've sucked, but it's kind of funny nonetheless. Hopefully you've recovered from the shock of seeing them. I probably would've passed out at the sight of my parents if I had been in your position yesterday.
Well, I hope you got somewhere with your paper. Thanks again for everything. (I really like the CD; I've been listening to it constantly.) I would love it if you could come up in January. The more I realize how much I love being around you because I feel like I understand you the way I've never been able to understand any human being ever before, the more frustrated I become with everyone else and the more I just can't wait to see you again. Definitely let me know if you can come up in January.
I love you.
Perdita