"Our Dried Voices"

I feel like I'm living in some strange aftermath of last week's events. (Or maybe it's just the anaesthesia wearing off... I had to go for an endoscopy this morning). I do feel much more like "myself" ever since I had that talk with Cherubino, but I also feel much sadder. There's a tragic knot in my life that simply can not be untangled: I love Narc. I can't change him; nor can I afford to adjust my life to meet him on his terms. It's that simple. I can not see the solution.

I'm certainly not in the right frame of mind to rehash everything that happened on Sunday night, but to make a long story short, I met him and James at a bar called Grace in Tribeca at around 1:00 AM. They were already both drunk when I arrived. We stayed until about 4:30 AM and the two of them proceeded to get wasted-- Narc, barely able to speak or find the back of his bar-stool, while James, bounding around, eyes rolling back from all of the blow. And I loved being there.

A lot of strange conversations were had. James invited me for a movie night on Tuesday, but I said I couldn't go because I had to be a "milk maid" and bring milk to 400 people.

"Don't worry, I wouldn't have gone, even if I could have," I later told Narc. "I know that you don't want me to interact and mix in with your friends."

He was silent for a moment. Then he leaned back in his chair. I thought he might fall off of it.

"You've never managed to insult me before, Hyde, but you just did! I'm offended. Didn't think you could do it, but you did."

"What??? How is that offensive to you? Isn't that the truth?"

I pointed out that he's had dozens of parties and dinners and hundreds of nights out drinking with other friends in the time that I've known him and never once has he invited me along for any of it.

"It's your choice," I said, "but I'm just saying-- I know you don't want me there, so I wouldn't make you uncomfortable and show. That's all."

Later on, James was talking about his divorce and his kids and said something about how he wanted his wife to have an abortion when she first got pregnant. Then he apologized to me.

"I know about you and N," he said.

I was confused. He seemed to know a lot about me. I thought Narc never talked about me to anyone. I thought he pretended that I didn't exist. But there I go-- wrong about him again.

Anyway, not much else that transpired is worth noting-- the bartender had a Pink Floyd tattoo on his ass and let us light up after-hours, James claimed to fall in love with some French girl at the other end of the bar, I just wanted to take care of Narc. When we left to walk home, James was leagues behind us and I held Narc's hand. He was stumbling and I was really afraid he would fall and get very hurt. I told him that I loved his hands.

James showed up back at Narc's place. By this point, it must have been 5:00 AM and neither of them were making very much sense. Nevertheless, they cracked open a bottle of champagne and downed it between the two of them. Narc broke a champagne glass. There was a debate about Wagner and then Philip Glass. The word "wanker" was liberally tossed around. Narc called James a "moron." I just wanted to go to sleep. We all smoked a few semi-stale black&gold's. Narc and James fought about "the Doors."

At around 6:00 AM, Narc told James to leave.

"Get out! I want to go to bed with my girl," he kept saying.

Even though I knew his brain was semi-obliterated, I loved that he called me "my girl." James made some lewd comments about what we would do when he left. I blushed.

It scares me how much I love alcohol... how much I just still vicariously want to be around it. It is sick, sick, sick. It scares me how powerful this disease, this obsession, can be-- even now. Just to be near what was truly the greatest love of my life...

In any case, James finally left just after 6:00 AM, Narc stripped my clothes off me and kissed me ferociously, telling me that he loves me. I was buckling. I told him that I love him too, "so, so much," and I meant it. I was losing it.

"I love you from my heart," he kept saying, "not in that fake worship way, but in my heart, Hyde."

He wanted to have unprotected sex. He put his head at the foot of the bed. I wondered if he would remember anything in the morning. I am in love with a phantom. Truly, a phantom.

But it was a beautiful night for me (if I ignored the fact that he was literally out of his mind), and I let myself enjoy it for what it was.

We didn't go to sleep until after 8:00 AM.

The next day, despite all of the work I had to do, I did none of it. Narc continued to be physically affectionate in the morning, and sex was filled with strange new intimacies. I wasn't sure how to read anything that was happening. But I felt my heart sinking again.

I lied to my sponsor when I called her to check in. I told her I was "doing work."

"Why don't you tell her you spent the day with a dick up your ass?" he laughed.

I laughed too, but there was a hollow place inside my chest that told me that it wasn't funny. There was a hollow voice inside my ear that told me I was in danger. I was ignoring that hollowed sound. I wanted to bury my face in his flesh and drown out that empty ringing.

We bought him a gyro sandwich and went back to his place to watch Rock of Love, the series finale. Narc always calls the winners on reality shows. I was feeling a little sick.

"Aww," he said, stroking my hair.

My Cousin Vinny was showing on TV. We had some more sex, relocating to the bathroom. He pissed on me and masturbated over me. I just wanted to be at his feet. I just wanted self-annihilation. I just wanted to give myself away. I think that's what I did. I think that's exactly what I did.

Something intense... something too personal... I don't know if it sounds sick or crazy, but it brought us closer.

I had to re-shower and leave in time to get to AA. He had to read some script for a friend. As soon as I exited into the "real world," I felt like a fraud, lost, a liar, dirt. Greeting people "hello" at AA, I felt dirty, but pleased with my secret, and wanting nothing more than to run back to him. I wasn't present in that meeting Monday night. I forgot why I was going to AA at all... I wrote Narc a text... a text about a secret between the two of us. "You're a dirty girl," he said in his response. I felt that to be true. But the hollowing was growing, scooping out my insides. Suddenly, I didn't belong anywhere.

I hadn't done my work all afternoon. I wanted to do it that night, but I couldn't. I was too tired after the continued lack of sleep. I felt leagues away from the girl who is a student, a teacher, a daughter, a friend. I only wanted to be a girl who belongs to Narc. I am in danger. I knew it. I sat on my couch. I called Cherubino and started to spill to her, but she was in the subway and had to call me back. Then I got a text from Narc.

Just beat Halo 3. Yay! How's the library? he asked me.

Hyde: Yay!! That was fast. Are you sad it's over? Working at home now. So exhausted. Need to take better care of my sleep. Today was Rochie's bday. How was meeting with Dave

Narc: Dave bumped meeting til tomorrow, which worked out great as I wouldn't have finished the play in time at any rate!

Hyde: That's good. You and I both didn't get our shit done. Just came clean to my sponsor about decadent afternoon. Just want to snuggle with Roch and watch the soaps now.

Narc: Aww!! Rochie is always reliable for a good cuddle. Will attempt bed soon myself...

Hyde: Yeah, well you and Roch are my boys to cuddle with. Sweet dreams tonight!

Narc: You too hon. Text me when you're masturbating and I'll do it with you.

I spoke to Cherubino after all that and she didn't judge me at all. She really did help. But I hate the reality that emerged. All I want to do is be with him, but it comes at the expense of everything else in my life. I'm "Mr. Hyde" with him, still. It comes at the expense of my health, my sleep, my program, my classes, my teaching, my honesty. She told me to make a schedule, to schedule him in if I want to, but to stick to a schedule. She also told me to write out a "First Step" on Narc. I felt better and worse all at the same time.

When I checked my phone upon awakening, I saw that Narc had sent me a text in the middle of the night. He was having bad dreams.

Yesterday was my crazy busy day and the havoc of my weekend caught up with me. I was exhausted while teaching, had to swap around my lesson plans, was unprepared for my German history class, and was dying on my feet at the AA meeting later that night. The only good part was that I got to see Hammer for a little while in the afternoon and I haven't been seeing that much of her lately. Narc and I exchanged a few texts in the afternoon. His movie night with James was postponed...

I finally got home after 9:00 PM and collapsed on the couch. Bezoukhoff came over and we watched some TV. Pixie is an actress and was on a major network TV show last night, so we had to watch! And of course, I talked through a lot of this stuff about Narc with Bezoukhoff. He gave me a new idea. The idea of "toying" with an idea... Narc "toys" with the idea of being in a relationship with me, I think. But he never means it. Anyway, I was grateful for sleep to come when it did.

Anyway, that's it for now. I'm tired of writing. My throat feels hoarse. I am one of the "hollow men." I want to disappear into him. I want to disengage. I want to escape. But I also want the richness of life and of choice. It's looking more and more like I can't have both. I feel like there is a "tragedy" now intrinsic to my very being-- and not in a dramatic way. There is a quiet tragedy that composes me because I love, I love, I love. I love and I can't.

love,
h