Time Means Nothing To Me

Time means everything to me.

How Many Times Have Y Asked You To Shoot Me? Just Kidding.

First Y said this:

Y won't be bombarding your email

you can see me whenever you feel like it

we are so so so often talking about communicating

Why don't you tell me something? For example, are you in danger of burning up again? Y would like to know the answer to that. ( really, how long would this take to answer? circle one: yes. no. )

You are very busy, we can all see how much work you do

...there is the work you do that you don't let us...know about

Y am not asking for more of your time than you are willing or able to give me

can it please be -ahem- quality time

And you responded with this:

you are not "too hard" for me

Ok, then why do you say this:

I am concerned
This is a problem
need to slow down
look at that
I am not okay with this
I am a very busy person
extremely limited availability to even my best friends
I already communicate with you much, much more than most people I know
(here Y am biting my cyber tongue So Hard)
you indicated that you weren't getting sufficient feedback from me and it was causing you serious distress.
Am I misreading the situation?

You tell me.
Don't really tell me, it's a line of rhetoric.
The facts that are pertinent, in my oppinion - which is never humble:

We were introduced by someone who was on her deathbed. It does not seem possible to me that this was a coincidence.

We have many things in common, the most obvious of which Y need not state.

The more occult things we may never know, because we waste a lot of time figuring out what we want to disclose, obscure, or omit for fear of overwhelming the other party. The last one Y claim only for myself. And often Y think you are graciously trying to ease me out of your sphere, and Y try to co operate. Which is so hard because Y know we are meant to be doing something, and Y feel you somewhere, and Y cry and thank you for the ride and try to leave it alone. And then you tell me you missed me?

From the beginning, my intent was to be supportive of you and your true work. Y never wanted you to think that Y was demanding your attention (though you have complained often of feeling pressured to respond to me - my bf panic being an exception on my part). Y have been aware of your reluctance and/or wariness to engage too deeply or transperently with me. After all, Y know that Y am *not* one of your "best friends". And one of our first contacts, the one where Y impotently offered my help to you, was sparked by your considering appropriate disclosures made about oneself to others. In truth, being an internet buddy places me in the category of virtual acquaintence, if it's convenient for you to think of me as such. Maybe this is my shit, but Y believe you are afraid of me. (Who do Y remind you of? Just a thought....)

Additionally, Y realize that Y have been drawn ( ha ha) to your energy and have been using it to boost my own derelict abilities. Y recall writing to you something like: "Y freely admit Y am using you shamelessly, but Y don't know why or what for." But Y do have an inkling or two, at this time. Y have also said that Y do not understand everything about our association. Y do know that whatever happens between us is important to me because the whole thing has been blowing my mind, so to speak. Y do not place a good/bad value on this. It just happened/happens and keeps on giving.

Hey, Y can write on and on in this blog and if Y do and if you never look at it, Y am getting a fine return on my investment. The crying, the sadness, the anticipation, the anxiety, the disappointment, the relief, the self-doubt, the pride, the cheer and the hope - just the story of my life. You don't have much to do with it. Unless you want to.

You ask me, "Am I too hard for you? "

Well, let's see a pared down list of what Y have been able to cope with in the last 53 years:

• Starved for the first 7 days of my extra-uterine life
• Smarter and more reality-based than any adult who had dominion over me for 17 years
• Lied to, humiliated, beaten, fucked and neglected ongoingly and intermittently - never knew how it would be on any particular day - for 17 years
• 6 years at a catholic school which was the repository for every stupid/insane/vicious/frustrated dyke nun (ages 23 to 90) in the order of st joseph
• First viable suicide plan at age 7
• Broken bones not treated in a timely fashion because we had to do something more important that day
• 3 mental hospitals before Y turned 20
• Married a boy whom Y later watched kill a kitten and then a few weeks later Y found out Y was pregnant
• Had an abortion and a tubal ligation in a hospital done by a real doctor when Y was 19 and both procedures were illegal and against hospital policy
• Figured out Y am a lesbian and began my first (4 year long) relationship with a homophobic woman who stalked me until Y let her move in with me
• Had the unworldly experience of her sitting on my chest with a butcher knife to my throat while Y lay screaming for help and a faggot in the next room who lived with us pretended nothing was happening
• Hooked up with yet another woman who liked to humiliate me, hit me, threatened to kill me in my sleep, and inspired me to present myself to battered women's shelters on two seperate occasions
• Answered the door to the FBI who were looking for the "kidnapped" grandchild of a VERY famous author and which Y knew something about
• Escaped to one of the land-trust lands (Not Private: legally owned by All Women on Earth) where Y was able to survive for a year despite the fact that a woman tried to cut my face off with a bottle (guess who went to the hospital- hint: not me) and a bunch of women from a 200 mile radius gathered in their most formidible dyke armor: boots, jeans, thermal underwear, flannel shirts, leather gloves, down jackets and backpacks despite the fact that it was about 70 degrees outside - and told STARK NAKED ME that they were going to get the authorities from town to make me leave (guess who left- hint: not me)

That brings you up to about my 28th or 29th birthday, so need Y go on? Y am not going to, because what is the point. The point is, although Y do love you so much, whatever you do, don't do, say, read, or think Y will deal with it somehow. Y want you. Y don't need you. Whatever Y can do to help you, that's what Y want to do if Y can. Here is a start:

• Y am not your responsibility
• You know what to do in your own firey heart
• No matter what you do today or next week or in forever, if you want me for something at any time, please tell me
• Here is what you told me: You don't need to justify anything, to me or anyone else. Including yourself.
  I'm -- years old. I have a life. Know what I mean?
  Hang in there, sweetie,