>>From: Belacqua
>>To: Perdita
>>Subject: finished, it's finally finished, it must be nearly finished.
>>Date: Thu, 11 Jan 2001

I made it. God help me, I went an entire night without even smelling alcohol. I got a lot of stuff done, too. I even thought seriously about doing some homework. I usually stop before I get that involved in my schoolwork.

I got some writing done tonight. I put together some ideas into rough skeletons that I can't revise right now because my heart just isn't in it. I have to be really motivated to write and then immediately rewrite a poem. Some of them just come out right. I don't know exactly what's going to become of the two I wrote tonight: "Laocoon" and "Surface Tension." They’re both themes I have had hammering in my head the past few days. Writing is almost an OCD thing with me. I get these ideas that whirl and swirl around in my head until I compulsively write to kill the obsessive thoughts.

I did something very serious tonight. In my notebook, I was writing about how everyone I know is going to think I've lost my mind because I'm going to run away from everything I know (which, they fail to see, is what’s killing me by embodying everything I despise) to live in a city a thousand miles away with a girl I haven't even known for three months. There's no way I can tell them that they're wrong, but they are. I've known you my entire life. I've only recently been acquainted with you, but I know more about you than anyone else, and you know more about me than anyone else does. What they won’t be able to see is that what I'm doing is running from everything I don't know towards something I do know, something I know with more certainty than anything here. They cannot possibly even begin to imagine what it is I mean because they haven't felt that shifting in their souls. They aren't even capable of this type of connection, and there's no way they can begin to try to understand it. It's absolutely maddening to be able to see the resistance ahead and know all I can do is close my eyes and ears and not open them again until I've passed through it all.

I was watching a terrible show on TV tonight because the remote control was across the room, I was in the middle of writing, and I was too damn lazy to get up to change the channel, and the show absolutely disgusted me. These "couples" were on this stupid fucking island to test their loyalty to their potential other. I'm sitting there, looking at these people who are supposed to tempt these other people to cheat on their boyfriends or girlfriends, and like I always do, I tried to imagine myself in that situation. I didn't find a single one of those people even remotely tempting. They went dead after physical attributes to make someone appealing, and all I could see was a vacuous emptiness in those people that would’ve made me want to murder everyone on the island and live there surrounded by their heads on stakes and their bodies rotting on the beach. So, before these couples go to opposite ends of the island, they get thirty final minutes with one another, and they're kissing and curled up in each other’s arms and talking insipidly to one another, and the total meaninglessness of everything that surrounds those people struck me all over again. They'll never know what it's like to hear someone humming and feel their bones begin to rattle under their skin like a tuning fork. I guess it keeps slamming into me over and over again exactly how special you are to me and how easily the fear of starting over is swallowed by the knowledge of the comfort that surrounds you. I don't know that I'll ever stop being amazed, and that's a really good feeling.

It's past my bedtime and my back is screaming at me to put it to sleep. No alcohol tonight. I wonder if I should even think about going for two in a row. Baby steps, Belacqua, baby steps....

I love you, Perdita.
Belacqua

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>From: Perdita
>To: Belacqua
>Subject: Re: finished, it's finally finished, it must be nearly finished.
>Date: Thu, 11 Jan 2001

Belacqua,

That's totally awesome that you were able to go the night without alcohol. I seem to be approaching one of the times I get to every once in awhile where I can't even stand the sight of cigarettes or alcohol. It's like personal cleansing. I need it every so often or I just start to feel like I'm one giant chemical walking around the planet. I'll give everything up, and then somewhere down the line I'll get pissed at myself for stopping and I'll start right back up. My life is just a continuum of vicious cycles.

You said something not too long ago about being extremely paranoid about certain things. Christ, I'm so fucking paranoid about everything. The moment I become sure about something, I start to question it. I'm so paranoid about everyone hating me that I can't really trust anyone who tells me otherwise. And I have major problems with restaurants. If I've never been to a particular restaurant and a group of people decides to go there, I can't be the first person to walk in the door. Even if I try, I'll cower in terror before the doorway because lord knows what's on the other side. And if I'm supposed to meet someone at a restaurant, I'll always have them stand outside in the freezing cold or the rain because there's no way in hell I'm gonna go in there and look around for them. I just can't do it with all those people in there. As far as walking down the street, I'm usually the one staring at everyone from behind my sunglasses, so I can't complain about them staring at me. I do have problems, though, if I'm by myself and there's a group of guys that say something to me as I walk by. At that point, I may as well be face-first on the pavement. I'm sure people aren't scrutinizing your every move as you walk around, but I know hearing that probably doesn't make the first bit of difference.

Well, I need to go do something productive, I guess. I know you will, but make sure you keep me updated about moving up here. And like I've said before, make sure this move is something YOU want to do. I really want you here, but the decision should be entirely up to you. I don't want you doing something you'll regret.

I love you so much.
Perdita