cellini's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Inoculated Heart I am inoculated now. That little bit of Helenah has been placed into me in a careful way and now it grows and twists its tiny mycelium tendrils into every centimeter of skin, every tiny blood vessel, every brain cell. It pulses and wriggles inside of me at the hint of a scent like hers. The whole of my body and mind have been re-made in an echo of her. As I drove home yesterday I wondered if it could possibly be as perfect for her as it was for me. I thought that this was too good to be true. That perhaps she woke up and found me wrapped around her and was sick of the whole thing and wanted me gone. These doubts hung grew and hung around me and became heavier with every passing hour. In the late afternoon she chatted me on gmail and sounded ecstatic. She had told her sister about her relationship with me. And then I knew for certain that Helenah is every bit as much in love with me as I am with her. What is the real worth of love? Even of true love? Of love at first sight? What should be sacrificed for that? Money, sure. But what about people? Who should be sacrificed for the sake of true love? We like to talk about how we fell for each other. We like to find out what the other was thinking on such and such a day. And then we hold each other very close and look into each others eyes and we kiss without blinking. Her eyes are green and her left eye is mostly green although when I look very closely I see that there is a blue patch on the bottom of that left eye. They are very clear, sharp eyes that are ringed with the pale outlines of contact lenses. When I was a little boy I had a collection of glass marbles. There was one little green marble that was smaller than the others. It had a wide twist of darker green color through the otherwise pale green glass. I remember holding that little green marble up to the light and getting lost in the tiny maze of clear, sharp waves through the middle of it. Trish is trying to rally. Last night she broke down and seems to have decided to try to win me back. Too little, too late. I been very plain and honest with her about everything with Helenah. I have not lied about anything except for one question that I have dodged. Shes asks if I am in love with Helenah and I haven't given her a straight answer about that yet. Today that will change. I will tell her about being in love with Helenah. Helenah radiates truth. It is impossible to tell even a white lie in her presence without the sensation of a tightening knot in one's stomach. Since meeting her and falling in love with her I have found it increasingly difficult to disguise anything, even when she is not nearby. Trish has never fully known me. It is true that I have never opened myself fully to her. Let it start with this, then. Why then, could I never open up to Trish? In the first place I was 17 when we met. I didn't know as much about the world and I hadn't read Joyce or Hemingway yet and so I didn't value the unadorned truth so much as I do now. In the second place, I never fell in love with Trish. I grew to love her over time but that isn't the same thing as the kind of fevered mania that allows a man to trust a woman entirely with the plain truth as he understands it. Helenah has only known me for a short time but I think she understands me better than Trish does. She has the opportunity to see me as I am rather than as I was. I told Helenah today in an email that I am writing about her. She doesn't know that this online diary exists but I am not deliberately hiding its existence from her. If she asks to see what I'm writing then I will copy and paste some things together for her. The idea of her seeing what I've written about her is exciting to me. 1:33 p.m. - 2011-10-10 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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