Letters from the Inside, Sarah Pender, #42

Dear Kelly,

Glad ot hear from you. I'm listening to a local country station. They are out at the State Fair. I used to love going out to the county and state fairs. You ever go? My friend from NYC used to go out to the Meadowlands Fair when it was in town, and on others in the NJ/NY area. He's friend with Angel the SnakeGirl and others from the sideshow that travels around there. I bet Mini would go nuts over the World's Smallest Horse. Out there they have huge exhibits for agriculture and livestock. We even have a dairy bar where there are cheese sculptures. There's more than corn in Indiana.

Actually, I was interested in the emails that transpired between you and Amir. I thought you did a good job of communicating your feelngs and expressing yourself without being dramatic or accusatory.

Interestingly, this IS the oldest story in the book. Woman falls in love with the POTENTIAL of a man. Man disappoints woman. Woman "works on" man. Inspires him to move forward towards potential. Man doesn't move fast enough, continues to disappoint woman. Woman leaves hurt and confused as to why man just won't do what she wants him to do.

END OF STORY.

Why do I know this so well? Honey, that is the story of my relationships in the past. Men and gay women. It seems liek the bisexual women don't fall into this category, but I think that's because they are more in touch with their femininity and therefor actually MOVE toward their potential, however slowly. Men often have the inertia of Stonehenge monoliths.

My personal opinion: you torture yourself. Amir doesn't torture you. You cannot accept him how he is. Even though he's a liar and a cheat, that is who he is right now. He's doing you a favor by not agreeing to be your boyfriend, that way he doesn't have to lie or cheat on you, because THAT would be him torturing you.

I almost envy that you have these issues. At least you feel the highs and lows. Right now I am so depressed that I don't feel much at all. Sadness, despair, sometimes glimmer of hope, but NOTHING like hte joy I was once full of. I sleep all the time, cry often, and pretty much walk around lost in my head. I feel like the steel and concrete are sucking my soul. Sleep.

Please, pass me a giant mango margarita on the rocks!

I need a Bob Marley album, a full liquor cabinet, and a whole lot of sex. Then a long swim and a day in the sunshine (sans hangover).

Okay, so if I have my writings scanned in as high resolution JPGS, I can insert them into my blog? Or can I only opost them on Shutterfly and direct friends to go there? I wasn't sure if I had both options or not.

I'm getting ready to read The Spontaneous Fulfillment of Desire by Deepak Chopra. This is after last week reading How To Be Happy, Dammit and The Secret. Can you tell I'm depressed? Although. I've had more productivity today than I have in a week, writing letters, of course, I think that has less to do with natural motivation and more to do with the four cups of coffee I drank. Hey, whatever works, right?

I'm going to close and keep moving before I lose my momentum. Be well.

Sarah