18 June, 2002

Late For Work

I woke up late this morning. And instead of going straight to work as I should have done (though I would have been two hours late), I instead took my time with getting up. I masturbated, took a bath, then a long shower, after which I put on some new clothes and am fully intending upon cooking breakfast before I leave to go anywhere; of course, cooking must wait till after I've finished this journal entry, and furthermore when I do leave, it won't be for work but instead to go to the store and buy a lunch box and chips so that I may bring my lunch to work each day.

But oh, I'm not yet finished. There's so much work around the house that needs to get done, and why shan't I do it now? If I do it later, I'd just be missing even more work, just as much as I'm missing in the here and now.

...sigh... I need to start staying at work all day. Otherwise, I'm never going to make up all the missed hours that I need to. ...sigh... I'm just not used to working this much; I don't like it. It may be an easy job, but so what? It's still work, and I still hate it. I'm so very scared... Am I to never grow up and learn responsibility? Shall I be like this for all of eternity?

I read a book on the Mormon religion yesterday. It described the LDS church very well... And to tell the truth, it does seem to be the best religion out there. If I were to ever become religious and I actually were to fully and wholly believe in it, I think that the LDS church wold be the religion I'd want to believe in. Unfortunately, if anything were to ever make me believe, it would be something out of my power, and thusly I wold not be able to choose a denomination.

But truly, if I am ever to have devoutly religious friends, then I hope that they will be of the LDS church, for they seem to be such very good people. ...sigh... I wish I could believe.

The other day, when I took my father to Gulfport for his plane back to Miami, Herbie proposed to my mother. Quite frankly, I was surprised by it, but I can understand completely on the reasoning and feelings that led to the proposal. No date is yet set, and there likely won't be until after Herbie can get an annulment from the church (he is already divorced by the state with his previous wife, but to get married in a church, he has to get the previous marriage annulled by the church as well). I am very happy for my mother. It is good to know that she is happy with how things are turning out, and it is especially good to know that she is gioing to be well taken care of. My only regret is that Herbie is not a wealthy man, but no matter... He is a hard worker and very spiritual, religious, and moral.

1:25 pm, and I haven't even made breakfast yet. ...sigh... I am such a lazy bastard. I should be at work, but no, by using logic I've convinced myself otherwise. ...sigh... ...sigh... ...sigh... I am such a 'sigh'-er.

I wonder what Amber would say if she were to knock on my front door right now and I were to answer it? "Hi," would be my guess. But afterwards? Would she hug me? Maybe shake my hand? Or would we both stand there like idiots? Would I remember to invite her inside?

"Hello..." I can imagine my body quaking, and yet my conscious mind would do everything it could to make sure that the shaking that was ongoing internally would not show to Amber's beautiful large green eyes. "Please come in. Won't you take a seat?" I would point at the chair closest to the front door, and while she approached it, I would move the electric keyboard away from the chair, so that it would not bother her as she sat.

I imagine that before she came, she had a whole speech written out, and yet now the only thing she could remember of it was the initial "Hi."

As she sat down, I would go to the computer and turn off the music, and sit in the chair nearly opposite her. "It's been a long time."


"Please excuse the mess; I only moved in a short while ago and before I could even get everything moved, I had a week long visit from my father, so nothing really got done as it should have been."

I imagine by this time she has gained even more weight, and her hair is long and not as wavy as it once was. She has a sad look about her, almost as though she has endured some great loss and has yet to recover.

"Had I realized that you would be stopping by, I would have had juice available to offer you, but as it is, all I have in the house is Dr Pepper, milk, and tap water."

"No, thank you."

By this point, I do not think I could have held all of my tears in; surely one or two would have started to slowly travel down my cheek. I'm not sure whether I would let them fall or try to hide them; both options seem equally valid right now. I guess the situation would have to actually occur if I were to ever find out.

"I'm sorry."

At those words, she would look down, or perhaps away... Maybe she has tears as well, and maybe I'm just imagining that she would.

"I know that you didn't come here looking for an apology, but I've wanted for so very long to say those words." How old is she now? Twenty-two? Twenty-one? I can't remember. And here I am, barely a twenty year old. "I don't know why you came, but I have a favor to ask of you nonetheless."

Perhaps at this point she would turn to face me. But still she is silent, with nary a smile to be even imagined on her face.

"I was not good to you, and I deserve nothing from you. But my family did no wrong, and they very much wish to at least have pictures of Adrianah. They miss her very much."

At this, she again looks away... As to why, I do not know.

"Have you come for money? I do not have a lot available to offer you, but I can afford to give a couple thousand or so -"

"No, Eric. I need no money from you."

"Yes, I should have guessed that. You were always a very independent and hard working woman. Doubtless you make more money than I do, even with a child to care of."

Why did she come here, I would wonder? Could it be that my dream is fulfilled and she is returning to me? No, that would be too much to ask. Perhaps she wants me to play an active role as Adrianah's father, then? There are so many possibilities.

"I find myself wondering as to why you made this visit. Logic would dictate that the appropriate course of action would be to ask you, and when you reply then I would know for sure. But that would ruin all the suspense. Besides, if you tell me now, then I'll have to discard all of the fanciful ideas that have come to mind when I wonder the question aloud in my conscious mind."

Should I tell her I love her? I am afraid to, even though it is true. What to do?

"There are so many possibilities... Perhaps you have AIDS and have come to inform me that I may be infected as well. Perhaps your family has died unexpectedly and you are looking for comfort from the only person left that you know well at all. Perhaps Adrianah is very sick and you felt it necessary to invite me to see her one last time before she gets even worse."

Maybe I should tell her... If I don't, I will regret it more than almost anything that I regret in my past.

"Perhaps..." I pause here for effect. "Perhaps you have come to forgive me. In your letter, you said that you blamed yourself, but that was needless blame. I was the one who messed everything up." Another long pause. "Amber, ... I love you." I cannot guess the reaction she would make. "I have always loved you, though I was too stupid to know how to show it years and years ago... Every day I talk to you as though you are here, hoping beyond hope that one day I may be forgiven for the horrible sins I once committed... I write to you every day in my diary, and I compose letters every day that I never intended upon actually sending; I kept them only so that if you did one day return, you would be able to read all of it."

I try to imagine the look on her face, but in my mind's eye, my own head is lowered in shame, and so I can see no details of her face at all.

"I love you, Amber... Don't you remember? 'Always & Forever'. I love you. . .. . For you, my dear..." The tears are flowing freely by now. "For you, I would be the perfect husband... the perfect father... Can it be, I wonder, that you have come in answer to my prayers? Can it be, though unlikely so, that the love I've shown towards your spirit has somehow brought you to me so that your conscious mind may experience the love that I show each day for you? ... After all this time, after all these years, you are here in front of me; though still I do not know why... Could it be... Is it true... Do you love me, too?"

I wait for a response, but receive none.

"'Always & Forever'... We did not know what we were saying back then, but we said it anyway. I meant it, but did you? ... ... Ti voglio bene, no matter what happens, ti voglio bene."

And then I look up, wanting so very badly to see the look on her face. I take off my glasses and dry my eyes with my shirt. I look to where she was sitting...

          But she is gone.

She was never there. She was my imagination and my imagination alone. She is gone now, and here I still sit, crying harder than before, with no hope and no future.

"Damn you, Eric! Why must you torture me with such visions? Either let Amber return to me or allow me to forget her! I cannot stand such pain!"

But there is no reply. There will never be a reply. Nor will there ever be an end to the pain. For how can there be? Even if I love another one day, that does not change the fact that Amber is gone. The only cures would be for Amber to return, or else for me to forget all that has happened. Bliss or ignorance. Anything else is pain.

I expect pain.