Dear C,
Did you know the word "Whom" is in the process of dying? I read that in this issue's Atlantic, while eating ramen noodles at a Ramen shop on Dundas by the campus. You are right though, even the smallest things in a foreign place may be worth savoring. The cold air, when not breathed for a while, is also refreshing.
Do you ever miss Boston? Do you? Why did you move to San Francisco? Ah yes, you told me, you moved for your girlfriend. Do all of you guys move for your girlfriends?
I'm glad that I was able to be honest with you. You know my past, I don't have to wipe everything clean, it's not a clean slate. I've had a very complicated life, and I had most recently fallen for someone and I'm slowly working on resolving it. I say slow because I still miss him, and I have loved him, and he had simply, fallen out of love with me. That's all, no more intensity or love, it's just a chore. I was his chore. He's onto someone or something else. I think we had fun, and I should have never taken it seriously. But I'm a serious kind of person. I love intensely. I get obsessive, but if he returned my intensity, I'd get bored. I only want it because I knew it was safe. One day, one day things get better, maybe one day I could see the light again.
I love your writing. I love that you take the time to write to me. I love that you are brilliant, incredibly incredibly smart, and I love that you are ready to receive me. A messed up woman who has had a lot of faults and disappointments and who are emotionally complex but too afraid to show. I love that you are able to let me be honest, from the get go so that there is no pretense. But I can't do heavy. I like the notion of being in love more than actually in love. I like the notion of being with someone but not. I miss B because I fit well with him, physically, and he's hollow inside, he has no real emotions that I could feel. He's a machine. He imitates feelings. He does not even know how much I've been hurt. I can't even discuss any of this with him. He does not care. Perhaps. But I can't continue wonder. I have spent too much mental energy on this hopeless, ridiculous emotional roller coaster that led me to nowhere land.
You ought to understand I'm changeable. I have broken a few hearts. I go through men. I go through them quickly, expeditiously. I only fit well with one person physically. I wear men out like clothes.
But men are important part of women's life. We all want to be loved, adored, feeling the intensity from time to time.
It rained tonight. I like raining nights. I like falling asleep in the rain. The two young men were complaining about their professors over dinner, just one table over. They were young and full of opinions. I hoped that they could shut up. I was reading this great article about why women don't get ahead despite the fact they have more education than men, because women don't tend to ask for things. They work hard but they don't ask for a raise or ask for a promotion. They wait for the tiara that would be put on their head, but the tiara never shows up, in a working world, women need to be more aggressive.
Like me.
Today our big shot majority shareholder rolled into town. I work with all men, I'm the only woman. The only attractive woman to boot. He and I have talked on the phone before. Everyone told me that he's super wealthy and is a total playboy. So he showed up, and everyone greets him by Mike, and he came into my office, shoot my hand, and then says, "Hello, I'm Michael." Right. He's clearly trying to impress me. Playboy or not, big wig or not, I don't buy that charming thing. I deal with all men, lots of good looking men who fear me. Let them. I wear very professional clothes and never flirt. It's never good to flirt, or try to be a girl in a work place. I'm hired to do the things I need to do, and I shall do them professionally.
Private life is a different matter.
What is that I need in private life? I don't know but I know I don't have all of it figured out.
It's raining droplets now. I am going to shut down my computer and say good night. Sorry you'd never get this letter. I don't do heavy well on an 1:1 basis. I will write to the world, but not to you.
Good night then, C. Yes I will be back to the Bay Area soon. Yes maybe we could do dinner. But no, we will not be having sex. Sorry. But thank you for your understanding.
Did you know the word "Whom" is in the process of dying? I read that in this issue's Atlantic, while eating ramen noodles at a Ramen shop on Dundas by the campus. You are right though, even the smallest things in a foreign place may be worth savoring. The cold air, when not breathed for a while, is also refreshing.
Do you ever miss Boston? Do you? Why did you move to San Francisco? Ah yes, you told me, you moved for your girlfriend. Do all of you guys move for your girlfriends?
I'm glad that I was able to be honest with you. You know my past, I don't have to wipe everything clean, it's not a clean slate. I've had a very complicated life, and I had most recently fallen for someone and I'm slowly working on resolving it. I say slow because I still miss him, and I have loved him, and he had simply, fallen out of love with me. That's all, no more intensity or love, it's just a chore. I was his chore. He's onto someone or something else. I think we had fun, and I should have never taken it seriously. But I'm a serious kind of person. I love intensely. I get obsessive, but if he returned my intensity, I'd get bored. I only want it because I knew it was safe. One day, one day things get better, maybe one day I could see the light again.
I love your writing. I love that you take the time to write to me. I love that you are brilliant, incredibly incredibly smart, and I love that you are ready to receive me. A messed up woman who has had a lot of faults and disappointments and who are emotionally complex but too afraid to show. I love that you are able to let me be honest, from the get go so that there is no pretense. But I can't do heavy. I like the notion of being in love more than actually in love. I like the notion of being with someone but not. I miss B because I fit well with him, physically, and he's hollow inside, he has no real emotions that I could feel. He's a machine. He imitates feelings. He does not even know how much I've been hurt. I can't even discuss any of this with him. He does not care. Perhaps. But I can't continue wonder. I have spent too much mental energy on this hopeless, ridiculous emotional roller coaster that led me to nowhere land.
You ought to understand I'm changeable. I have broken a few hearts. I go through men. I go through them quickly, expeditiously. I only fit well with one person physically. I wear men out like clothes.
But men are important part of women's life. We all want to be loved, adored, feeling the intensity from time to time.
It rained tonight. I like raining nights. I like falling asleep in the rain. The two young men were complaining about their professors over dinner, just one table over. They were young and full of opinions. I hoped that they could shut up. I was reading this great article about why women don't get ahead despite the fact they have more education than men, because women don't tend to ask for things. They work hard but they don't ask for a raise or ask for a promotion. They wait for the tiara that would be put on their head, but the tiara never shows up, in a working world, women need to be more aggressive.
Like me.
Today our big shot majority shareholder rolled into town. I work with all men, I'm the only woman. The only attractive woman to boot. He and I have talked on the phone before. Everyone told me that he's super wealthy and is a total playboy. So he showed up, and everyone greets him by Mike, and he came into my office, shoot my hand, and then says, "Hello, I'm Michael." Right. He's clearly trying to impress me. Playboy or not, big wig or not, I don't buy that charming thing. I deal with all men, lots of good looking men who fear me. Let them. I wear very professional clothes and never flirt. It's never good to flirt, or try to be a girl in a work place. I'm hired to do the things I need to do, and I shall do them professionally.
Private life is a different matter.
What is that I need in private life? I don't know but I know I don't have all of it figured out.
It's raining droplets now. I am going to shut down my computer and say good night. Sorry you'd never get this letter. I don't do heavy well on an 1:1 basis. I will write to the world, but not to you.
Good night then, C. Yes I will be back to the Bay Area soon. Yes maybe we could do dinner. But no, we will not be having sex. Sorry. But thank you for your understanding.
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