Sunday, July 14, 2002

Email to B



This is an old (~1yr) email between B and I -- enough time has passed that the subject matter does not inspire me to wretch, as it did at the time. It's a good thing our human memories and emotions fade. I put it here in my journal now because, from what this journal started as, it belongs.



From: A Garrett Lisi 
Date: Wed May 23, 2001  10:11:31 PM Pacific/Honolulu
To: B Funk 
Subject: Re: t

I feel like I should start by stating a disclaimer that this is a very
unpleasantly emotional subject for me, and then plunge forward...

> 	You see, that's the irony, and the only real "black mark" on
> you -- you have a much better idea than either T or I how well
> she and I would get along.  Her coming down is only slightly more
> titillating than ML's visit -- you highly underestimate how
> little feel I have for who she is, or her me.  It's a black mark
> because you clearly expect much more between us than we do, which
> means, regardless of whether you are right or wrong, you've been
> content to let untapped potential lie, which is one of the few
> carnal sins in my book.  But obviously you get credit for it being
> a matter of the heart, which as we know means most of the brain
> isn't involved.  :)

I was very much in love with her, and thought that she would
get along very well WITH ME.  The idea of her being not with me and with
my best friend gave me the shakes.  Also, during the time we were on
speaking terms, it would have been rather rude and presumptuous to
suggest to her that maybe she'd hit it off with you.  Now, I'm not above
suggesting such things, but it still is kind of awkward.

I think you two are both great people, and have said as much to both of
you about the other at various times.  Would you get along?  Probably.
But there are a couple of things I figured would make you annoy one
another.  She's a socialist and also a bit lax on the tidiness --
qualities which I found endearing, but I admit I was biased because I
was OUT OF MY MIND IN LOVE WITH THE GIRL.  And, well, you're a bit
fastidious and, even if you've got an amazing brain, haven't read so
much.

Understand that in a different context, if T and I were getting along
just great, I may suggest that you might enjoy her company as well.  But
you have to understand that she pretty much hates my guts, isn't really
talking to me, and this messes with me immensely.

For an idea of the magnitude: consider that my vision goes all funny and
my head spins and my sweat glands do funny things when I address this
subject even as rationally as I can.  (Damn Italian heritage)

> 	I asked T originally if she had any objections to me
> telling you straightforwardly that she was the one who needed the guest
> bed, since I knew it would be a source of some friction, and she said,
> essentially, that's fine, honesty is best, and "at least it
> will be clear that I'm staying in the guest bed."  So there you have
> her stated intentions.  I won't play dumb and say that's that -- as I
> said, you, ironically, are in a much better position to predict the
> outcome than I am....

I am far from capable of rational prediction on the subject.  I figure
if she's coming down and spending a few days in your house that there's
a good chance of something developing.  After that I just kind of go
shaky on the possibilities because my heart throttles itself.

And then I can't help but consider what alternative motives may be
lurking:  Is B harboring jealousy, and out to prove he can get
what I want but can't have?  Is T unconsciously seeking even more
tangible revenge for the pain I've caused her?  Or, worst of all, do the
both of you just not really think of me at all?


Now, as far as you and T go.  At this point I've rationally decided that
if you two are for each other, that's great.  You could both use love in
your lives (as can we all) and maybe she could be your first real love,
and you would get to find out what that means.  She could kick your
emotional ass and you could see what you've been missing. I really want
this for the both of you eventually.  But, you see, it drives me insane
because I LOVE BEING WITH HER MYSELF.  Now, ideally, I'd love it if we
could all gather together in a big Heinleinian love nest and groove in
bliss.  But, as it is, I look to be shit out of luck and I'm going to
have to go crawl up into a Tibetan monastery and spend my remaining
years chanting in Clifford algebra.

[...]

> If I look into
> my charcoal ball, I see T coming down, us spending an existential
> couple of days together, both fairly removed and restrained out of
> a mutual disdain for the complexities of relationships and secondary
> effects and concerns (e.g., A in my case), and then T will

Look, what I precisely DON'T want is to be resented for keeping one or
both of you from doing what you want.

I'll out and say it: I love both of you.

OK, now, that said, it will fuck with me immensely if you two hit it
off.  But I'll deal, especially if it's more than just a fling and you
find happiness together.  If you two work, I don't know, maybe she'll 
have
had her catharsis by sleeping with my best friend and will be with me
again a bit.  (ACK! you see what my brain turns too?)  On the other
hand, maybe it will go the other way and she'll convince you that I'm a
slime ball and that you don't want to talk to me either.  Ha!

[...]

> 	Happy?

No!  I haven't been "happy" for years.  And it shows.  My body is damn
near scrawny, and when I look at my face in a mirror it looks pretty
grim instead of the goofy self I remember.

Hope you have better luck with your own loves, whomever they may be.

Funny, you know.  I think T didn't like me mostly because I was too
happy.  She'd probably really go for this person I've been since we broke
up.  But of course, then she soon wouldn't again. Ha!

> 	Life is Chaos, and then we die.

Chaos and Entropy, two of my favorites.

> 	But my charcoal ball, it does not lie.

No, but it sure can bounce.

-G


Hmm, also, I guess you can forward this (but preferably not just
contextless parts) to T if she wants to know what's going on on my end.


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