santianna

So The Melancholic Saga Continues...

I had a lot of things to say, and I probably still do. Only I cant think of much else aside from shagging Martine, throwing stuff out of my room and designing fetish outfits.

I emailed him a couple of photos from my newest set, and hes finally sent me an email that was a little more affectionate then the hey-how-you-doin sort. And it even came with one of his essays (well, I demanded a trade).

Frankly, I dont know anything any-more. Not that it would make much of a difference if I did anyway. Ive chased him long enough; hes done me that justice, maybe if he wants me again, I should return the favour (Im not saying this sarcastically. I really believe Im glad for the fact that I had to try so hard for a few hours of his time). Then again, it could all be nothing more then wishful thinking. But wasnt it wishful thinking when 7 months ago I thought wouldnt it be so lovely if I met him again, and I did. I didnt know then hed want me back because of certain business complications that I would unwittingly play a part of- but you know what. He did.

A-lot of my friends tell me hes just using me. You know. For sex. But I really dont think so. He could still sleep with me if he wanted, and he knows that because I told him so sometime back. But somehow sex makes things more difficult. If you dont particularly give a damn for the person, then its no problem, but with the sort of emotions that are involved on my part, no strings attached sex is just impossible.

No strings attached sex is pointless by the way. It can be fun sometimes, but if you have better things to do, its one of societys most pointless evolutions. It doesnt even serve the biological function for procreation. I am not suggesting that sex without love is pointless; sex with someone that you know cares is worthwhile, I still havent deviated from that belief.

I know Martine cares, in some incomprehensible manner. If Liz would just die, things would be so much easier. Mostly for him, but I would be so happy too. Then again, dont we all just love coming up with hypothetical situations and their outcomes without really knowing ourselves and how we would really feel.

I thought everything would fall into place when Ethan came back. But things didnt, and it didnt work out as well as I had hoped. (Im still going to visit him this September nonetheless, were still on very good terms).

While lying in bed with Greg a few nights back (with my panties on. I told him with a fair amount of irritation that they were staying on when he tried to get them off) I asked him about the person hed loved most in his entire life. The woman he believed he would be perfectly satisfied with. Her names Shauna, and they had a few good years together, but she had to leave because hed been married then. (She insisted). He got divorced anyway, because his wife was a psychopath that tried to kill him with a kitchen knife; by then it was already a little too late, Shauna had married someone else. So hed settled for someone else, someone he feels all right with, I suppose. Because most people dont like dying without having that significant someone beside them, because most people dont like growing old without the security that there was someone growing old with them. (Its just like how you feel better at the clinic when youre there to check for STDs and theres another person thats kinda just like you looking as nervous in the next seat).

But its all very depressing. Im not even going to presume Martine could be what Shauna was to Greg, but hes definitely significant. And I would be very sorry indeed if a few years from now, he wasnt happy with whatever hed done. You think people should be able to exercise better judgment over their lives. But the funny thing is, they normally dont. Life is very much a daily thing as it is a something that spans over the greater part of a century. And one day never really seems to matter a lot to any of us, so we just do whatever we have to, just because that day, we just had to. And before we know it, the greater part of our lives have past, and we wish this and that, but its too late.

And I would be very sorry indeed if that happened to anyone I ever cared for.

xoxox