Castle – 2 Aug 79 – Wed
Seems hopeless to TRY writing in this book – things happen so fast – a month is an eternity. Last night celebrated our 11th“divinity loss” anniversary – and a difficult anniv. It was. T came to see me dance for the first time – with Avril so it wouldn’t be so bad but had to leave he was so upset. He didn’t like me smiling!
Like –
I’m ENJOYING myself! The PLACE didn’t bother him (“reverent & reserved” were his words about the audience) but my pleasure in movement, beauty & freedom was a shock! Uh oh! He goes back to my parents’ argument: IT’S TURNING MEN ON. So what? I get impatient with that – that way lurks the “hajib”.
We have to educate each other. At the end the
atmosphere seemed cleared and we both cried with relief. Even though I know my love is in the larval stage, I’ve never loved anyone the way I love him. We had our last dinner at his 641 E street digs – steak and wine, fruit, cream, brandy. He asked me if there were any boyfriends’ the report of whose marriage “depressed” me (he was referring to my marriage) and I had to say no.
He opened a letter from Mindy, ex-girlfriend he was thinking of re-starting a relationship with except she went to Nepal. A letter I would have thought perfectly reasonable two months ago now strikes me as ridiculous – an ounce of love is worth more than all these pages of barter.
I got a wonderful letter from Devon – he’s found
“another girl” (with three more in reserve I’m betting) and wishes me the best.
But T was upset because he closed with “I love you” a word NOT thrown around in his world! (Mindy and Cindy don’t say it!) He says it’s the only part of the letter he believes – “the guy is a total phony.” I said Devon’s only victim is himself. We then made love on the floor on top of all those letters.
Gloriously. Got a poem out of it.
The Bridesmaid
Yes, I know everything
You’re my poor
Relation.
I know of your daddy’s desk where you
Fucked with formaldehyde fingers
I know of your lonely
Rosary of abortions
I repeat, I know everything.
We made love on your letters
Undisturbed
As two icons.
She’s imperfect
He told me.
Unslung by mortality
I take my place
With the king’s crazy mistresses;
Brewing menstrual blood coffee
And mandrake root tea.
Swim away, little bridesmaid,
You’re young
I’m in love
We’ve got
Too much in common ever to meet.
Need to see dentist & gyno, overhaul bike,
pay bills. T. meets Ralph Nader at 6. Lucky me snagging someone so ambitious and competent.
Party Castle Mon 6 Aug 79
God, I need Maine. I love T but I need to get away from him. I am used to being alone 4-5 hours a day. Starving for that.
Wonder how many otherwise perfect relationships break up for this reason!
T. is a little TOO driven. A little TOO single-minded. Makes me argue with him –
– I can’t help it. For example: he talked about the “ugliness of the desert landscape.” It’s not my “thing” either – because I grew up somewhere else.
But Georgia O’Keeffe taught me to see the beauty of it. What he REALLY meant was “I don’t like it” but he raises it to a short-sighted religious principle ;“New England is better.”
That’s embarrassing. I constantly feel he’s trying to “re-educate” me –
– for example he didn’t like my turquoise silk pants because he “doesn’t like colors that don’t appear in nature.” When shown an aquarium of tropical fish he doesn’t “count” them, their colors are “cultivated” and somehow “wrong.” The truth is bright colors make him nervous. So, say THAT.
Sat night we went to an office party of his people (to which I wore the aforementioned pants) and praised the house over-
extravagantly. (He does NOT like my yellow velvet furniture. I’m giving it to Maureen.) “One good picture” per wall, beige Danish oldern furniture –
-unbelievably boring and sterile. A chipped china frog would have done the place a world of good. This could warn of decorating liabilities ahead.
His younger brother Dominic in town – when I
complimented his Mazda sports car and said I’d love to have one someday.
Toss said “we’ll see” as if I could never buy one for myself! These
flare-ups are important signs. Must work on my self-value.
8 Aug 79
Packing for Maine came across D’s letters. Not a
“good” one among them. “Phoniness” is NOT his problem – that’s not the right word – he’s not even “tone deaf” which was Bruce’s disorder.
I think it’s a “temperature” thing – he WANTS all passion sexualized
(not that he would ever admit it) and doesn’t trust intimacy, closeness – as if he doesn’t “believe” in it – doesn’t want to believe it exists. He fears never freeing himself from the physical so he cultivates a lonely “spirituality” but he’s mired HIMSELF in sex. So that’s pathetic.
I enjoy responsibility – so he probably felt hounded by my love. Thank God I escaped is all I can say. There’s a nightmare in there. I’m betting he was gearing up to torture me for a lifetime.
I let T read my short story about his mother. That was probably a mistake. (He plans her death!) He made some idiotic “writing class” comments – I said it wasn’t THAT far along – but there’s something appealingly mythic about this undigested mass. Worry about it in ten years!
Shadowe Island ME – Mon 7:30 AM 12 Aug 79
Toss just left on the ferry so I can relax. Wish this diary ended here – I need a New Life. But Not Yet. Rainy with a gray sea. Dogs stretched out snoring on the Greek carpet.
This visit has been everything I wanted, but the first night was classic in its ghastliness. Guests showed up at cocktails and stayed through dinner – unexpectedly – this mob scene making our announcement a bit tougher.
Toss whispered, “Want to go through with it?”
I said, “Sure.”
We opened the champagne. The guests loved it
– Mom & Dad really surprised. Dad started talking about his difficult
father-in-law and how things would be different but flat out calling me a liar when I chimed in about how Wilbur returned his prison mail unread (he told me this story HIMSELF last Christmas!) I kept my temper – oh I must have got it wrong. (I didn’t. We’d discussed it later ad nauseam.)
Avril attacked me later for “embarrassing” Dad – but he’d been TALKING ABOUT HIS DIFFICULT FATHER IN LAW. Toss was surprised at Avril’s hostility – used to her as an ally. He said, “They obviously think you’re invulnerable.”
Probably. If so they’re all idiots! I thought A was upset about her own out-of-his-depth boyfriend, Vigo.
Anyway, T rescued the evening bringing tears to Mom’s eyes by talking about how he’d always loved me. M & D apologized & congratulated us.
Sunday the four of us toured the island – trying to get along with Vigo. (Avril says he has only one testicle as if that’s all that’s wrong with him.) At dinner watched slides of my growing up – T tremendously moved – then lobster dinner.
Tues 13 Aug 79 – 5 PM
T called last night on his WATS line and we talked ½ an hour. Says he used to play an “airport game” of “Looking for his future wife” but thought “I AM married!” Wow!
Sun. 19 Aug 79
T’s letter came! Glorious. I do not feel worthy.
Tension between A & V – he teases her too much – we all try to ignore it –
-tough to figure out how to call him on it without opening up hostilities. Hope she dumps him. T on phone!
Ex-island boyfriend visits. A says he acts like he wants to knock me to the floor and French kiss me to death. Seems accurate. Glad T missed him.
Alysse Aallyn 
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