My breathing had been a little shallower of late, or I had been counting in longer strides, and, I figured, a four count might, in some cases, keep people out—or be good for email, but, in some cases, it was best to relax and do what felt the most comfortable—which, at this moment, anyhow, did not involve a four count with an amplitude shift. i thought you could hear me i was surprised to hear her so easily; sometimes she could take a while, but, i’d found that it was often best to go with something seemingly unimportant and build on it from there—you just dive right in, so to speak. i knew, right now, what would make her angry, and it would probably make her angry because there was a kernel of truth in it—that she, eventually, would strike up an affair with the mayor of New York. If I mentioned that (and I just did, kind of, although i did not address her directly, i was doing my best to type in her voice—at least on some occasions, like right now) well, she was angry, and, lucky me, i’d just given her the excuse she needed to do whatever the heck she wants.
Considering that her man might have been giving her the same grief—i don’t know if he, like me, was the protective type; i know, anyhow, that that is not what women want, even at the beginning stages of a relationship when they might find a little jealousy to be cute or amusing. i wouldn’t dwell on it, then, if i could help it—and i wouldn’t address her with this—if she could hear it as I typed, then, well, come what may. This is supposed to be a private, safe place that you can come to when you’re feeling dejected or misunderstood. As i pressed myself for something to say, i could think of nothing but this: “You should run in 2028.” Some thought, if she did, then she might be misreading the moment, but she had people, and momentum, behind her—enough to be considered a candidate, and, possibly, if not the president, then, for her, the next best thing, the vice president—the platform from which she could spring into action. I was all about her rise to power. I wanted it more than anything.
But i was wise, too; i knew that my feelings for her were based, in part, on her influence, and I knew that I was becoming something else—i’d still be me, but, i could feel something happening, and I wasn’t sure what it was; but it was to my benefit, i knew that; i also knew that, when I realized this change, my feelings could change—sometimes, when you don’t know what’s happening, you want something, but that something is not what you’re going to get—you’re going to get something better—something more real, and more private, such as faith, for example. Or a worldview that spoke to the existence of an afterlife, even if you didn’t believe in God. Or maybe you were just becoming something that was confident and apt to do great things—or maybe you were going to meet someone else, someone that would replace the object of your attention. You might be about to meet to meet your true love—someone that might look or be completely different from your object.
Do you love me, yet what could i say? In here, in this space that i was used to, and evolving with, i did; but to meet her in real life would have felt like a date—and there would be absolutely no chance of an erection. what do I tell her, then? When that person that I love aligns with the person that she is, then I’ll find the right frequency, and everything will resonate? Instead, however, I told her, “I love you.” Now—was that going to mean that I loved her in the way that she imagined herself being loved—on cloud 9, head over heels, and all that? Check “like you’re playing chess!” yes i knew what she was about to say—and she knew that i knew: that being, who said she expected love to feel like a monsoon? Who said she expected to be swept off her feet—or fall in love at first sight? Was that, instead, what I expected? And, if it was, then, of course, I could set myself up to fail and lose out on a love that could be every bit as real as every other kind of love. don’t call me frigid and I wouldn’t—i had no reason to say such a thing, and even if I did, well, coming from me, that would be hypocritical—to expect a physical relationship without developing the trust that, in the real, drug and alcohol free world, dominated, wasn’t going to work. i’d been trying to convince her of that very thing all this time—because of my condition, something that, for whatever reasons, is beyond my control.
what will people say about me when i am dead? that you were my lover? or that i was your lover? “there’s room enough for both of us,” and that calmed her down. now, there was a person inside Ursula that didn’t get to come out and play very often—so much of her time was spent negotiating with people that were old enough to be retired. i knew what that was like—i had this somewhat different personality living in me, too, that (for good, for now) was suppressed—every single alpha part of me was kept under lock and key, since there’s nothing more difficult than trying to supplant your elders. I’m talking about the case in which i was the elder person in the room—that person, the one that would exist in a relationship with someone my age or younger than me, was unknown to me. I’d experienced various aspects and perspectives over the years, enough to know that there were other people living inside me, people that I did not know, and, one day, would confront—hopefully to the benefit of everyone, including Ursula.