Rewriting

My sister keeps telling me to write everything down. Not the constant record-keeping and note-taking I do anyway. But to use my copious notes to write a book. To publish. To expose everyone. To recount every awful thing that happened and to make sure the world knows what you've done.

I can't say I haven't thought a lot about it. Especially these days, when all I seem to have is time. I work and I write papers for scholarly publication and I try to get contracts and I try to keep my programs alive and I try to protect my intellectual property and I burn through my savings.

There is a particular appeal in punishing those who were responsible by exposing them and making MIVD look like incompetent idiots: so obvious that an analyst with a laptop and a brain could see them.

But the truth is: there is part of me that has been writing a book all along: an alternate narrative where nobody interfered in my relationship with Sjors; where we were able to make our own choices and learn each other and live without fear, and live in love; where he was able to heal from the emotional wounds he suffered in battle. Where he wasn't forced into an impossible decision and where he didn't betray me. I sometimes feel that story when I dream. When I lie in bed alone at night. There was a story where I didn't become what I am now: intellect and grief.

I used all of my powers of analysis and imagination to save him from the hell he hated. And he returned to it anyway. Was there something else I could have done besides love him?

If I write down what you did - the terrible truth of what has happened, then that reality is the one that wins. There is no ending where I can be with him. There is no dénouement that lets me hold him one last time. The awful reality, the worst case scenario, is where I find myself now.

Emily reminds me, "It will all be alright in the end. If it's not alright its not the end".

I had lunch today with the friend who regretted his decision not to be with the woman he loved. I told him I was doing online dating and it baffled him. He immediately started naming people he knew he could arrange for me to meet.

"I'm not looking for a mate," I told him. "I don't need anyone to take care of me and I'm not interested in company for the sake of not being alone."
"I'm also not looking for love. I had that. The real thing. And I don't think you get that kind of love twice in a lifetime."
"But I could use someone who makes me laugh. And someone who knows how to make love to me. Someone who doesn't expect that I can give him my heart."

I can't fucking fake it. The truth is: I loved Sjors more than my own soul. Every day that I am without him causes me so much pain. I can't write that story. That is a sad story.

You put him where he is now. So you take care of him. If he is miserable, then give him lots of interesting tasks to keep him occupied. Don't let him get hurt. Don't shut him down any more than he already is. Use him on missions that change the world. He traded me for whatever picture you painted - so follow through on your promise.  You took him, so make it count, you fuckers.