cellini's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Oh, What I Deserve Of course I deserve everything. The long days hand in hand with Helenah on the streets of DC and the long moments of staring into her green eyes and later coming hard over her body while my gaze is locked onto the same green eyes. And the hours of agony, late at night, lying awake and imagining the horror of living a life apart from Trish. All of it. Trish's bouts of tears and anger. Helenah's soft Swedish accent purring at me before her teeth strike my neck in something between a kiss and a bite. I deserve all of it. There are only three possible endings to this story and all of them are sad. Sad, in an honest telling anyhow. I'll tell you a secret. The only way that any story ever had a happy ending was because the storyteller knew when to stop and say 'the end.' Helenah is more in love with me every week. I feel terrible about it. Guilty. I did this. She has told me her story about falling in love with me and it wasn't enough at first to do this. She loved my eyes right away. In the first few minutes. And then when she first rigged the microphone on my collar she said that she could feel my gaze even as she wouldn't meet it. She felt my eyes on her, wanting her. But that could have been a nothing. Perhaps our next few meetings could have been a nothing, too. Just a crush that she looked back on now and then. I put her over the top before and during the day at the vineyard. I wrote that email (which I pasted into a diary entry here a few weeks back) which was deliberately calculated through each and every word to make her fall instantly in love with me. And oh, it worked. It looked like a simple description of a location to film at but it was a piece of sorcery that I cooked up to make her fall irrevocably in love with me and it worked. Oh, it worked. Then that day at the vineyard I kept going outside and finding four leaf clovers to pick for her and I went inside and handed them to her and then walked away immediately. And she was hopelessly in love with me. When we next met a few days later neither of us had any doubt about what was going to happen. Since then she's only fallen deeper. And God, I feel so guilty suddenly. I feel like a vandal. Like I've painted a halo over the Mona Lisa. Like the Mother Mary has just sucked my cock and swallowed. Its not that I don't love her. I do. Its that I know perfectly well that my own happiness is not enough to drive my decision making. I still fear that somehow I'm going to end up breaking her heart. I still doubt whether I am equal to this woman, right now. There is no woman who can make me betray my own children. There is the trouble. Between the competing desires and demands of these two women who are each emotional wrecks in their own ways, what will be asked of me? I don't expect an answer or a solution from any other person or book or other influence. This is a man's problem. And its my fault, mostly. I set out to make her fall in love with me and now here she is. And she's not a woman who does this all the time in every direction. She hasn't had a boyfriend or fallen for anyone since she was 20 years old (she's 27 now). She is still inexperienced in many ways, even though she's not much younger than me. I suppose that I have seen more of life than most American men of my age. I don't think she has ever had to make a split-second life or death decision. She's never watched someone die, or delivered a baby, or put out a fire, or saved a choking toddler, or been stranded in the middle of nowhere without a dime to her name, or spent a night in jail, or beat cancer, or waited for her infant child to come out of brain surgery, or offered to take the heat and go to prison to spare someone she cared about. But I think that she has the strength of character. I think that she could bear up against all of these things that I have had to deal with. I think that she is stronger than she realizes. 12:59 a.m. - 2011-10-24 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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