Personal Journal

Double-Kit-Cat

It is never too late to be what you might have been. -- George Eliot
Courage to start and willingness to keep everlasting at it are the requisites for success. -- Alonzo Newton Benn

It doesn’t usually come out of nowhere anymore.
Frankly, I don’t remember how it was in January and February and March.
There’s no consistency in my memory, and that’s probably a coping mechanism.

Tonight I mixed up a BIG batch of paint to finish 10 models. I wasn’t going to go to weight watchers because I was in rebellion this week, and when push came to shove, I didn’t want to go face the music. But something was sinking in me when I decided to go to WW anyway.

And despite eating ANYTHING I wanted all week, I lost 4/10 of a pound. And I guess that made me feel unworthy. And I didn’t stay for a meeting tonight, because I was an alien. And I didn’t want to be reminded of my xeno status. And I came home and tried to watch Everybody Loves Raymond, because it always makes me laugh.

And the show’s plot was about Ray and Deborah trying to be nicer to one another.

And it hit me like the wrecking ball.

I miss having Jean to be nice to. I miss having someone to be nice to.

My pet name for her was “double-kit-cat”. Don’t ask me why. She called me kitten a lot, but she called a lot of people kitten. Or kitty.
Maybe it was because she loved it when I hid chocolate around the house. I tried to have some around about half the time – I didn’t want her to think I always had it – it would have lost its treat status.

I went to taco bell, and I remembered how she would smack her lips both childlike and sensual when she thought of the yummy foods she liked. I remember her in hospice when I asked her if she wanted some cocoa pebbles, and she turned to me and said with wonderment “Yeah, ya got some?”

I remember that the world I wanted to live in is gone.

I remember how ungodly happy I was to spend time in the same room with her. Just to be in the same fucking room. She loved wheel of fortune. And she taught me to like broccoli. She made a mess of my kitchen with regularity and I hated it. But nowhere near how I hate not having her around.

She inspired me, and heavily, like no one ever had before. I dug in the garden for her. If it was important to her, it was important to me, and that’s the very first time I knew someone like that. I wanted it to work, and when we weren’t getting along in 03, I dragged her to a therapist because I loved her, and I was willing to do what it took to understand, and make myself understood.

She kissed with lips deep and warm. She loved me, and I knew it. I relied on it. It became a foundation of the man I was. And sometimes I feel like I am less of a man because I don’t have this soul to share with her, or with anyone.

I’m so looking forward to bed tonight, because I want out of this prison.
I’m lonely. And I’m alone.
And I don’t feel Jean anymore, not in the way I wish I could.
I can hear the screaming again. But it’s not coming through my body.

U2 wrote a song called “Looking to fill that god-shaped hole.”

Love is the god shaped hole.

And I can put my fist through the hole in my life.



It is never too late to be what you might have been. -- George Eliot
Courage to start and willingness to keep everlasting at it are the requisites for success. -- Alonzo Newton Benn