secure feeling

9:09 PM 5/17/10

I went to get green and red peppers for making pizza the other day. I walked up to you on the way there and you called me my nickname. While I was talking with you I felt a calm, secure, quiet love.

I've known you for a little over a year now. Penn's Cave is having their show again, the one you told me about where you bought some knives.

Why would I write to you in my blog instead of emailing? 1. In the blog, you don't have to answer. It's less of a burden on you. 2. I don't know if emails go through or not - I haven't tried yet.

The first time I remember talking to you, you told me that there was a big puddle of water in front of the seafood department, and somebody needed to clean it up. We all know that those blue polyester mops don't work at all - they don't soak up any water, they just slop it around all over the place (white all-cotton mops are much better - I wish we had those). So I went and got the vacuum and cleaned up the water. After that, you would always get me if there was a lot of water to clean up somewhere. I just enjoyed getting a few minutes to hang out with you and talk.

I loved you all this time. Sometimes maybe it seemed like I didn't. Sometimes I wasn't able to look at you. For a while I was sending lots and lots of text messages and not getting answers at all, and during that time, I felt like I couldn't look at you. I've already had problems in the past with people not getting messages, or me not getting messages people send me, but every time it happens, I don't know what to believe. So I tried to explain to you about 'them,' the voices I hear, the people messing with my computer, so you would understand that I might not be able to reach you by electronic communication like phones or email - or I might only be able to do it once in a while, but not all the time.

Other times I have terrible mood swings because of my chronic illnesses and my chemical sensitivity and the drug residues. I always wanted you to understand that, too, because that makes me seem like I'm not being friendly to you, not looking at you, avoiding you, not having the courage to even just talk to you. Those are my moods, but even when that is happening, I still love you.

When I call you my friend, what I mean is 'romantic friendship.' (Other people call it 'friends with benefits.') It means I am your friend and I am also sexually attracted to you. I know I already told you that. It also means that I would like to be friends with you for a long time, not just a little while.

I'd rather not write private letters to you in my blog, but I don't want to go through the hell of trying to email and not knowing whether you get them or not. I've always been kind of a prude and not really able to talk about sex easily, and it's even harder to do when I'm in a blog where real people are reading it. But I don't see you often enough to give you lots of paper notes, either, so I'll use this for now. (I just won't talk about sex much.) It takes a huge amount of courage to give you a note - I am terrified every time I do it - so I can't do that every day. I have to pick exactly the right moment, when other people aren't around, and when you're not too busy, and I'm not too busy, and the managers aren't looking.

(Technically, I don't know for sure if you read my blog either. Sometimes I think you do. Sometimes I don't know if you read all of them, or only some of them, or if they get 'censored' or blocked so you can't see them. I've had so many experiences with people messing with my computer and the internet that I don't know what to believe is true. Eventually I will probably stop saying 'you' and instead I will write about you in the third person pronoun again as 'he' and 'him' instead of 'you.' If I do that, forgive me. It means that I don't believe you're reading. A couple things made me think you were, but now, I am having doubts again, and the doubts always come back after a while. I never get to talk to you, and when I do, I'm not able to ask 'are you reading my blog?' I gave you the URL, but I just can't ask you about it. It's hard to connect the blog with real people and to imagine that real people are reading it.)

She had a picture of you. There is this one particular picture that I liked. When I saw it I took a few deep breaths and then I looked away. (I couldn't even look at any of your pictures at first.) I collected the picture. And I am jealous of her, because I don't get to spend any time with you at all, or hardly any. If I could be with you at all, I would be less jealous of her.

I looked you up on FB finally because I need to know what's going on. I need to know if you're going to jail or not, and I want to know about it as soon as you find out. I don't want to find out about it after you've already gone and I suddenly notice you haven't been coming to work for a few weeks.

that's all for now.