11 December, 1998

I hate.

[As copied from the journal of one of my early girlfriends. Date is uncertain and may be off by a number of months.]

I WANT TO SCREAM! I need someone.

At the moment, I hate. I hate myself and what I've become. I hate Adrianah for hurting my Love, I hate that I can't make him happy or give him what he needs. I hate what I am about to do, I hate how much love will make a person accept. I hate coming home to sleep by myself and I hate his sleeping somewhere with her. I HATE MYSELF, and my stomach, and my fucking hormones. I hate that I am so horrible to my husband. I hate that I complain. I hate my ugliness, I hate that I'm putting Eric through all of this. I want to run away and let him have his happiness. I should have gone to Illinois when I had the chance, before I ruined his life...before I ruined our life. I feel changed, like I will never be the same. How could I? I am no longer what my Eric wants and I would gladly sacrifice myself for his happiness. I want to die and give him his freedom. If you trust him, Goddamn it, let him go. Let him have his fun... make him satisfied.

10 December, 1998

If only he understood...

[As copied from the journal of one of my early girlfriends.]

If only he understood. How easy it is for him to hide it. Simply an avoidance of the topic. Myself...faced continuously with looks of conemnation or pit. He walks down the street and no one knows. Not one soul would ever suspect. His calm assurance and youthful appearance conceal his situation effectively. If I myself attempt this feat, I am met with the gazes of all who pass. Their eyes reveal their thoughts to me. Temptress, slut, impureness throughout. How presumptuous are the masses, how erroneous. Then there are those who "sympathize": poor thing, niave [sic] one. Neither do they understand. If we walk together, hand in hand, he is praised for his responsibility. After all, he was probably used, framed, perhaps just unlucky. I am accused of ruining his future. If only he could understand... I can bear no more shame.

01 July, 1998

Because I Love You

(Poem is by one of my early girlfriends, and was given to me on this date.)

I want to walk with you
hand in hand
across the years to come,
through all the hours
a single lifetime
could make…

I want to grow with you
and experience life
to its fullest measure…

And discover each day
as it passes,
in our togetherness.
I want to do for you
what your love
has done for me…

…to give as much
as I've had
of the joy of receiving,
to always look into
my heart and find
I am more in love with you
than ever before.

01 May, 1998

How will we do it?

[As copied from a short note between myself and an early girlfriend circa this date. Names have been modified to protect the shy.]

[Jane Doe]: If we are pregnant... How will we do it? [written in futhark]

[Me]: Then the most likely event that will happen is that we will become parents. [written in english]

28 April, 1998

Mistake #1

[As copied from a calendar, written by one of my early girlfriends in futhark on this date.]


condom broke...child?

01 March, 1998

I hope you enjoyed last night.

[As copied from a letter addressed to one of my early girlfriends. Names have been changed to protect the shy.]

Good morming, my love. I hope you enjoyed last night. I know I did. Although I did all the work and you did nothing but enjoy, it felt (to me) as though an incredible force was emanating from you... I felt my entire body become drained of all energy... ...that has never happened before...

I am so satisfied... I could go a week w/o complaints after a night like yesterday's. Thank you for allowingme inside of you. Thank you for inviting me over.

I'm still not sure what was the best for me. Without the condom felt really good,, but with it, I got to hit orgasm inside of you... Orgasm feels extraordinarily great if its [sic] inside of you, but the condom reduces the pleasure to a point where I can say that I enjoyed it w/o the condom a bit better...

I thought the role-playing thing was pretty cool. It makes making loves to you so much more interesting, in at least one way. No matter how I take you, however, making love to you is utter enjoyment...

As you lay there, helpless and tired, I watched your eyes -- your face...it was dark, but I still remember the details... Your head was first turned to my right, and your eyes closed, heavy with want for sleep. And I picked your legs up and moved you, as I entered again and again, feeling the inside of you; exploring your inner depths... And you turned your head to my left, still just as sleepy... I thought you would pass out any second. Some time later, I wanted to explode inside of you very extremely badly... I moved with a rhythm, speed, and direction that was purely for my enjoyment. Once I started doing it for me, my body tensed and got superhot and I pushed into you with a gentle strength that I felt pulsating through my body... Soon I felt myself about to give out, because I kept holding back as I entered -- but now it was too much-my pleasure was going to shoot from me and cover you so completely and my happiness would have soared so high that I would not have been able to hold back from screaming and yelling... and I pulled out of you.

Can you imagine?