Hello all and welcome to the second installment of this riveting narrative. Thanks for the commentary on Part:1. To the person who noted that this was an example of the crazy calling the crazy crazy--no duh! I thought I was pretty up front up with that and it is just the point; while I entered all these relationships with my emotional baggage on the table, these women did not, and in fact, did everything they could do to occult it. In any case, you can always read one of the lamerly written posts on lerv, though I know you will keep on coming back to me, for I am a writing god of ancient vintage. Anywayz, for those of you who need a refresher, here is the link to Part 1
http://www.craigslist.org/sfc/rnr/139267947.html
3. L. White, Non-Personals Interlude: I went out with L, who was much younger than me, and, frankly, not really in my league. She was a temp in an office I worked at briefly and I was attracted, in a strange way, to her awkward charm. In her defense, she was probably in noone's league, a sort of autistic savante, probably a genius somewhere down deep, but so riven with neurosis and anxiety that she could barely string a noun to a verb in public. She would have been pretty hot, had she known how to hold herself--oh and how to wipe her nose, how to keep her farts in her cheeks, how to not vomit in public on a regular basis, that kind of thing. I was lonely and so was she, and in my mind, I thought we were both helping each other. But the road to hell, as they say is paved with just this sort of paradigm.I grew to like her anyway, but knew I could never justify the kind of caretaking a relationship with her would require. She was emotionally stalled at 12, it took me forever to break up with her, because she would literally collapse into a pool of tears if she even sensed the subject emerging. Eventually, I met someone I wanted to get to know better and it was time. But L.literally called me 10 times a day for the first three weeks of the break up, and even though I always took her calls, never put her off, and tried to help her be positive, she hates me now--to her credit I suppose. I hope it has made her a little tougher and given her an edge with which to confront the world.
N. South Asian: N. sounded interesting, had posted pretty artsy and visually vague pictures of herself, and seemed funny and smart. I had tried to return to Palestine a few weeks earlier, was arrested at the border by Israeli security, jailed for a day or so, deported, and then bounced around back to SFO. I had spent 5 days literally in an airplane or in custody and boy was I pissed. This was part of the reason I broke up with L., for I had planned to spend at least a year back and I didn't intend to have an LD relationship with her. When I returned it seemed unfair for both of us to continue, and, in fact, everything that I had worked toward for the past year or so had been dashed to bits in a week--I just couldn't go back to my old life. That Christmas, I was determined not to do anything remotely Judeo-Christian and so it seemed a weird sort of kismet that soon after I contacted N., she invited me to a South Asian dance party on Christmas night. Though she was a couple of years older than me she looked like a 14 year old with precocious boobs,and she was quite a charmer with her squeaky London accent and acid wit. We had a great night and I even let myself think that there could be a future there. She went off to NYC the next day, and I thought we would hook up when she came back in January, but not more than 12 hours later she was already calling me. And calling me. And calling me. She called me at least 5 times that night, and though I knew better, I ended up feeling like I could help bring her out of her neurotic insecurity. We definitely had a bond, shared a sense of humor and had great sex. Alas, she was stuck in the same circuit and couldn't break it. She always seemed on the verge of a nervous collapse and the cute London affectation in such instances, seemed oddly comical. Eventually, I began to resent all the mad drama she put me through, all the crazy people she let into her life and the ridiculous situations she seemed to get herself into, but I stayed with her anyway. She began seeing me as an abusive person because I would not cater to her worldview or let her throw tantrums, and she would break up with me--ala Ike and Tina--only to return a few weeks later. I was always glad to see her again, and if I thought she had wanted to change, I would have helped her, but she came back hoping that I would finally accept her. But I couldn't. Eventually, she had a sort of nervous collapse from all our fighting and my inability to enable her dementia and we broke up. I had very strong feelings for her and was sorry that it had ended that way, but there was literally nothing I could do. It was as if she was having the relationship with herself.
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