Things Fall Apart; The Center Can't be Held I’ve been moody all day today. Although there have been a few good moments. What I really want, what I think right now that I really want, is someone to see me after I’ve been running around in the hot or tired and workpressed [sic] and give me a kiss because they think I’m beautiful. I mean someone who would like me that much. It’s happening, isn’t it? I’m turning into a girl. I’m afraid of sex. I would like very much to cry. I wish I remembered how. It’s been years, and my memory has always been rather spotty. I want someone to put their arms around me and kiss me just at the joining of my neck and scalp. I want to hold someone and feel my chin resting on the top of their head and their hands over mine. I suppose I am perhaps depressed. I remember telling J. a few lines from the W. B. Yeats poem, “Things fall apart....the Center cannot hold...” a couple weeks ago and him telling me that perfectly described how I was at NSA last year. Which seems eons away. But.....everyone just thinks I am so stable now. I looked at my mirror face as I brushed my hair tonight and I wanted to lean over and tap on the pupils “knock-knock, who’s there?” I am not fifteen!



03.07.97
11.29.03  ¶ 4:33 AM