In case you can't tell, I'm currently going through all my possessions. Every scrap of paper every magazine every saved bill and every closet is being purged. I'm not throwing everything out but it's all being sorted and put together in one area or box or file and put away. The rest is garbage. When I'm done I will have matching furniture and organized closets. Of course two things are happening. I'm finding many things I'd rather I didn't. Like this picture:
I met him when I was right in the middle of my breakdown. I should have run when we met at a hotel on 24th st. He said he was staying there because he wasn't getting along with his family. Turns out, this was where Social Services had placed him for the weekend. My new man on de welfare! He must have sensed how vulnerable I was and I was just too damn fucked up in the head to mount any kind of defense. In spite of it all, he still managed to cause a response in my God complex to activate. I thought I could save him. I wanted to lift him up and in doing so, a part of me believed maybe I would find a way to save myself. And you know, you put up with a lot from a guy who still calls you after you've pissed the bed. More than once. We finally crashed and burned after another crack cocaine feuled disappearance (by him) and a passive/aggressive response (by me). Amazingly, we did somehow manage to get together one more time after an online argument and assurances by him that he really did love me (Dad/Dad/Dad). We met at the bar and kissed and held hands. I think I even sang for him. He stole $400 from me and I never heard from him again. If you see him tell him I said hi.
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