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Letters from the Madman
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Sightings: Nasty Professor EOAA Report EOAA Report Plus Comments Letters from the Madman: Inbox |
 To: Cassandra Date: 19Jul03 10:18am Dear Cassandra, For every single close friend of mine, and every single person whom I love, who is alive and in my life, there is a text. This text is a dialog in which I am usually the more verbose participant, consists of letters, notes, or emails. While my side of this dialog was alive and active (eventually to become historical and documentary) it served as my Sereno, representing me during the demanding growth of an important relationship. My writing allowed me to represent thoughts and feelings more clearly than otherwise possible. It also allowed me to say things that were hard to say but that needed to be said. I needed to say things because it hurt to not say them … otherwise it is hard to explain why this need existed. The writing made it easier, even possible where spoken words were not possible, as it is easier to throw a stone off a cliff than to hold the stone in the hand and jump! That text was, as it turns out, essential in making what were, or are, relationships that are (or were) not simply things between two people, but things that became part of me, and without which I would be very insignificant by any measure. Loving and being loved are a large part of how I exist. Whenever a paragraph begins with “for every single” you know an exception is coming soon, and in this case, the exception is, of course, you. This is because you are an exception in most ways I can think of, or more to my point, our friendship is exceptional because of what each of us brings to it. What is usually a long(ish) road was for us a threshold. But somehow it seems that I want to write to you even though you are currently writhing around in pain (from a tough day excavating fossils) in the room next door, literally a few feet away. There is nothing that I need to write to you. Whatever I wish to communicate to you I can say, so I cannot explain this document other than to say that I want to write it like I might want to be polite to you, listen carefully to your thoughts, or give you a hug. I wish here only the minorest (is that a word?) indulgence and for this I presume to thank you. So, the following are non-organized thoughts written for your consumption: Cassandra, you have kept me from being lonely for this entire trip so far, and maybe I’ve helped you this way as well. We have engaged in a closeness that has been mutual and mutually fulfilling but with different kinds of anxiety. There is usually some anxiety in closeness if even just that which comes from either waiting for what one wants, or wondering what will happen in an hour, tomorrow, or beyond. I think we have remained as faithful to our promises and our loves and ourselves, and to each other, as would be possible under the circumstances. I love Archie because you love him and because he loves you. This is not best friend love, it is love by proxy, and valuable and real. Right now I am sober, awake, not too tired, and alone. This is the first time I have been in this state (other than being in the bathroom, I suppose…) on this trip, and when I think about it further, in weeks, and it feels like (but can’t be!) months or years. I do not spend enough time alone. I can reflect and think without being alone, but being alone is different. I should spend more time alone. I am thinking about Janet, and I am very sad when I do that, and it really, really hurts. I cannot possibly express to you how much this hurts, and that it hurts so much makes me happy because I have this exceptional thing in my life – a daughter and such a wonderful daughter. The only love that is greater than mine for her is possibly hers for me. I hope she does not feel this hurt, but I know she does. I have seen the foundation for her pain in her eyes and heard it in her voice. Please know about this, and think of it once in a while. Please look at me once in a while and think “god, he must be hurting, with Janet away for so long.” I don’t deserve this! It is not fair, it is not good, it hurts! Poor baby. Please think of this paragraph as my placeholder for all future whining about this. I won’t whine about it, not because I don’t whine or because this is not a whine-invoking state to be in. I won’t whine because that hurts too. So please just assume that I could be whining inside for myself and think “poor baby.” Thank you. I am missing Polly very very deeply. I think mostly of the good things between us. No two people (at least it feels this way to me!) have ever loved each other as much as we have. I want you to understand that: any difficulties we have now, no matter how bad, have failed to break us apart because we remember and still feel this love and how it works when it works. I think being here and not with her for a while is a very good thing, but it is important that some of this time be in this state of undrunken, not too exhausted loneliness. This hurts too. I need to feel, even revel in, some of this hurt. It feels good. It is me relating to my own corner of the abyss. One must keep in touch with one’s abyss. I want you to know about this too. I want you to know that you could never, ever, say anything to me about me and Polly (or me and any other important aspect of my life) that would do harm. I know you will always tell me what you think. What I want you to know (and that I think you already know) is that my trust in you and your candor and thoughtfulness is incredibly important to me. This is a gift that you give me that is wonderful. I thank you. Cassandra, you know I love you and that I have the highest regard for you. I don’t need to say this but I felt it was important to include it for completeness in this bit of text. I am now going to continue on to other things this evening, some other writing. I hope your back is better and that you are well rested when you awake in the chilly morning. I hope I can give you half of what you give me. I would love to give more and I am the kind of exceptional person that could, were it not for the fact that you are ultra-exceptional. I remain, your friend forever, Randy |