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11-21-03 - 11:57 a.m.

In acting class today we practiced the recall skill. You think back to memories and how you physically reacted at the time, in order to use it in acting. My eyes began to tear up during the exercise. I'm going to see if I can summon up with words any of these feelings, but it will be difficult.

Memory prompt: remember the smell of someone you are infatuated with. My memory: When Bat and I were broken up and not being physical, I would still smell him deeply, turn towards his neck a bit, lift my lungs in a deep breath but attempting to muffle the sound of my inhale. At the sheer comfort and joy of the smell, my eyes would roll a bit, my eyelids flutter, and I'd almost close my eyes. I'd feel magnetically tempted to nuzzle his neck with my face, to bury it there, to lay my cheek against his, to brush my lips across his skin. I had to act like there was a forcefield there so that he would not be offended, I would not get too close. We pulled apart slowly, drawing apart with our arms still slightly around each other, and gave each other an affectionate but melancholy look, almost as if disappointed but resigned.

Memory prompt: Remember your father or mother's hug. My memory: A few months ago, I was greatly upset by, I think, breaking up with Bat. My Dad was still sick out of the hospital and couldn't get up, but he heard me crying. I was shuddering and gasping with tears. He asked me to get on the bed and then lifted his arm and I laid down my head on his chest. The feeling of being with a parent still much larger than me caused me to curl my back and stomach like an infant and stretch across his chest, arm around him. The sound of his breath soothed me, and my weeping turned to silent tears running down my face. He stroked my hair and I closed my eyes and my breathing began to slow, almost as if ever breath was a slight sigh, until I reached a state as if I were about to nap. He said simple things like, "I'm sorry you're hurting." He called me his baby or his little girl and I felt like I was five and if I asked he'd go beat 'em up (whoever 'em is.) I felt safe.

As for my night last night: I know part of the reason Bat asked for me is he felt lonely, dejected. Frizzy Red (Aka Charlemagne Palestine Girl) told him she wanted to be "just friends." I started out lecturing him about this or that, but he called on it, saying it "seems like I keep a little list of negative comments saved up for when I see him in person." So I just let it go. It turns out, even after all my harping about Bat's drinking, we got pretty drunk together. And I had a ridiculously fun time. I reached the part of me that tickles, tackles, wrestles, punches lightly, uses strange nicknames, flashes you, steals a kiss, giggles, musses your hair, chases you around, makes fun of you, grabs your ass, pantomimes, etc. I felt very affectionate, I gave him a full body massage before we got involved sexually. Once again I was in awe of the way I feel. I said I loved him and he said he loved me. He may be lonely, but I still believe in the existene of that love. Some of the romantic element may have cooled to a deep friendship bond between us, but the comfort and joy we share is still capable of being phenomenal.

Today, I feel like my cup runneth over. Remembering some of the most emotionally intense moments of my life brought me into a state of total, somewhat inexplicable gratitude.

The funny thing is, for me, there is a fine line between enthusiasm and despair.

 

 

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