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Tuesday, 7 September 1999 (fissure) 8:25am She has to be at the airport in about four hours, which means we have to be leaving in at least three hours. When she gets on the plane, we won't see each other again until late December.
We've come so far in such a short time...
The last seven days have been the best I've had in a long time. Certainly
this year, possibly for a few years. It was as close to perfect as I can
possibly hope to get. Whatever else happens, I'll have had this time
with her.
The last time it was a question of waiting two months; now it's four months. Something tells
me this is going to seem like more than just twice as long. It's going to be a goddamn
eternity.
I should be able to get the pictures on disk (no prints, I fuckin' love the 90s) tomorrow afternoon, and if I like the pictures well enough, maybe I'll get some printed. Mostly they're from Friday night, and mostly they're of Maddy in one form or another. At least a few are of the two us together, mostly taken by Whitman. Those, as should come as no surprise, I'm particularly looking forward to. No, not because they're of me, but because they're of us. The new Us. Me and the one I love. Something to show my family, perhaps. Look familiar? No? This is what I look like when I'm happy. Remember the last time you saw that? Me being happy? No, neither do I. Well, here it is.
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Monday, 6 September 1999 (weld) 3:48pm We're dressed up with nowhere to go, but we're going anyway. She's still here, so we're doing everything we can while we can. Because, tomorrow, she won't be anymore.
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Sunday, 5 September 1999 (arc) 6:47am It's almost hard to reconcile the two feelings. Up until very very recently it was all anticipation and wonder and the sense of having one foot poised over the unknown. Now I'm trying not to think about the fact that she's leaving the day after tomorrow and won't be back until the end of the year. It's too depressing. This is where she belongs. She's asleep in the bedroom, as natural as could be. There's no bed, but the floor is sufficiently padded and actually quite comfy. She's adapted herself seemingly effortlessly to the disjointed, transitional nature of my living space, for what I suppose is good reason. It was not so long ago that she moved on and started her life over, so she understands. what if we don't like each other? what if we don't get along? what if we've both made a terrible mistake? Those questions now seem to have been answered. We do like each other. We do get along. We haven't made a terible mistake (yet?). Physically, she's a perfectly adorable little creature. Tiny, yes, but that's not a negative. To be blunt, I've always had a thing for diminuitive goth grrls, Pandora and Louise being the most obvious examples. None of which has anything to do with her worth as a person, of course, but goddamnit, I'm not going to deny the importance of basic physical attraction. I like the way she looks, I like her style, and I refuse to pretend that's not a factor. This all started because of her initial reaction to pictures of me five months ago, and the relationship grew from that. It's never been the only basis—a pretty face (hers or mine, if I may be so bold) can only sustain a relationship so far, particularly one which can only really be based on words. Yes, by the time we met face-to-face in the airport on Wednesday night we both had a very clear notion of what to expect to see, but it had been words and thoughts and ideas and language which had propelled us to that point. If we hadn't connected on that level, if we hadn't developed a strong appetite for the words of the other, there's no way we could have gotten this far. I didn't expect to already be moving on by this point. During the first part of the year, the idea that I could find someone new was just about all that kept me going, practially all that allowed me to deal with the enormous pain from the death of my relationship with The Ex. I kept hearing, though, that it was too soon. That I needed more time, even after The Ex had declared her new relationship "official." Never mind her getting on with her life; I was clearly not ready.
I'm not hearing that anymore, though. The stigma, it seems, has been lifted.
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Saturday, 4 September 1999 (midway) 12:51pm The ironic part, of course, is that we've probably both slept better over these last few days than in months previous. Maddy surived her first exposure to the insanity that is sfgoff clubbery. It was a slower night than usual at Shrine, what with Burning Man and all, but she still got a good sense. Indeed, she observed that it's not too different from the clubs in Kansas City. Ouch.
I also retrieved a monitor from Whitman and Tania, an indefinite loaner from the
Virgin Megastore with porno labels already applied. (This is an important detail.)
Best of all, unlike my old monitor, it can handle 800x600 or even 1024x768. Ah,
joy. Ah, geekery.
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Friday, 3 September 1999 (lotus) 4:38pm Another late morning. We did some running around, realized that the world is an icky place and that here is much better. So we're home until Shrine tonight, though we're picking up Tania along the way. We almost went by my office, since I have a package waiting for me—a bunch of tapes, video and audio, from the Manson/Hole tour this year, including the Cow Palace show in March. Stuff I'm looking forward to a lot, and I'm glad Maddy will have a chance to see them since the tour didn't reach her neck of the woods. I've decided to wait until either late tonight or early tomorrow morning, though. I have no desire to go into the office when people are around. People bad. No like people.
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Thursday, 2 September 1999 (electrolite) 1:14pm Madeline's plane landed at about 11:15pm last night. She was a bit frazzled, understandably, but holding up well considering the cirumstances. And, in spite of her insistence that she had "wilted," she was quite lovely. As I knew she would be. Food was the first order of business, so we went to Sparky's in the Castro, being of the few halfway decent 24-hour restuarants that this otherwise bustling metropolis offers. Hobnobbing with the speed freaks and baseheads at All-Star Donuts or King Burger seemed a bit much for having literally just stepped off the plane, nor did Denny's seem appropriate after having flown 1800 miles from a place where Denny's probably qualifies as formal dining. (Yeah, I'm a Bay Area snob. This has long since been established.) Finally, we came back here, and...well, suffice it to say we only got up a little while ago.
At this moment, all is right with the world.
I like Madeline. A lot.
In any event, I wasn't too spooked at the time, but I suspect it'll be on my mind a lot in the near future. Maddy's quite convinced it'll be on hers, particularly when she goes back home to her trailer on the edge of the woods... We passed the moviegoing test quite well. Sometimes I think the single most important test of a relationship is how well you watch a movie together. In a theater, that is. If they're a loud talker, well, then, you've got a problem. She, I'm happy to report, is not.
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Wednesday, 1 September 1999 (unicorn) 7:23am Tonight's the night. 8:14am Nerves. Big huge jangly nerves. I knew they'd hit eventually, but wow. It didn't help that the fire alarm was being tested earlier this morning, so every now and then the alarm would start blaring and the lights would start flashing on and off. The flashing lights are entirely unnecessary, but this building clearly loves that sort of thing. Just a way of reminding us it's alive, and what was the last modern haunted house movie that didn't use the lights flashing? (I haven't seen The Haunting, but let's face it, I'm a gen-X'er and my standard is Poltergeist.)
Maddy just left for the airport. We should be meeting in about ten and a
half hours. Now I just have to deal with the fear...
I've been working with one of the new graphic designers a lot of these last couple
weeks, and he has yet to see me made up as I am today. The poor guy's going to have an aneurysm.
So all I have is the flight number from KC to SLC, and that
she was transferred to the next available plane to SF. There's
not much chance of her getting into town before 10pm, and at this
rate it might not be until tomorrow.
The poor thing. I hope I can make her time out here worth the
stress...
Not to mention I need to fix my makeup. Start from scratch, really. Make
it right. After what she's been through today...
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