My psychologist has said he has never seen a "free" relationship work without someone getting hurt. The question is, "what is to be getting hurt?" The question is, " what is to be overcome--the problem of being faithful, or the problem of being unfaithful?"
Since it seems to be harder for most people to be faithful, it would seem that is to be overcome. If it is so natural to not be faithful, then why is that a problem? Is it the fear in all of us that somehow if our lover is unfaithful to us we are not "good enough" or "enough" or that we are not "special" or even "loved"? Is this what we need to overcome?
Is the unfaithful lover's purpose of not being faithful also out of fear that he/she must "make sure" that he/she is still desirable to everyone else? And cannot this be done without sex? Cannot all this be overcome by first loving the self enough to not feel insecure then loving the other person, too, and vice versa, so we are "free" of our insecurities and fears so that we can each choose a lover to focus in upon and learn about love from each other?
After we learn to love ourselves there is still learning to SHARE love. Or is it the same thing?
But again I a back to the beginning, where I don't mind my lover just loving someone else---that is good. It is the lust/sex. Why is this so important to me? Am I confusing sex with love? It is not. It is that during sex one can forget everything but just the moment. I hate to be forgotten by the lover. My lover can love another and I can love the same person for the same reasons so that it is something that we share. But sex is something I feel is only an intimate thing between two people that all other are temporarily forgotten. Is this important? It is like an insult that something so trivial without love could blot out for an instant---your love. That you did not exist there. Is that immature?
Even I can get jealous of a lover's book he is reading if he temporarily forgets me. But I know that I can read the book , too, and that it is then something we can share, so I can come to terms with it.(The book jealousy is based in a bad experience with this one particular book he was reading and that ties into to his infidelity...long story ) But I don't want to make love to every person my lover has made love to, too. Although, that goes through my mind. Maybe it all comes down to priorities and values, again respect. You will get back what you put into it. Resoect is maybe a part of love? If you respect/honour something you will not deprive it or forget it or hurt it? You should do unto it as you would have done unto you and you should not think they are insecure and it is their problem--I will fuck anyone I like--You should nurture them and show them love and how to love themselves and maybe your rewards back would be that they tell you it wouldn't matter if you had sex with someone else. But love should be it's own reward. Just to know that you are loving/honouring/respecting someone fully should indeed be it's own reward of a job well done. That's how I feel when i'm with a lover, a real sense of satisfaction of having REALLY LOVED. Not being selfish in my desires. But not losing anything because that's what i WANTED to do. Not denying any of my desires, because I do not desire to have sex with another. I am not depriving myself. I feel good about it.
Is it that i cannot separate love from sex? But what is wrong with someone having more than one lover? Why should that deprive anybody? Is there not enough love for everybody? Just because he conciously forgets me for a moment doesn't mean he has forever. And in his subconscious I am there. Is it all an insecurity--that I do not love myself enough? It tears me into pieces to even write this. It throws me into a violent rage. I want to cry--throw up--yell NO! It can't be so!!! Why is this so hard? Why is the thought so tormenting? It rips me and I feel I may go insane--become numb to love--not care anymore. But I would rather die. Too bad I believe in reincarnation because if I didn't I think I would rather die than face this problem. I want to talk to Cris so badly. I wish we could work something out. I love him so much. But the saying, " If you love someone set them free", enrages me. Free from what? Am I a prison? I am angry. I feel like a wild horse humbly and pathetically saying, "Break me. Do what you want and I'll just take it. I'll learn to like it. Maybe I'll learn to love it or become numb to it". I'm so scared. Throwing myself into a pit or a fire. Isn't that what we wanted in the beginning of this relationship ( Cris )?
We said it would be hard. I didn't know this hard. It scared us and we fell together in "faithfulness" and said "oh, well, we tried" Maybe we should try harder. Is that what I have to learn? How to make an "open" relationship work? It might tear me aprt, kill me. I might become scarred, numb to life because I had to become to love in order to not care. I might become the lady at the end of the movie "Dangerous Liasons" Now I kow why you might become celibate. I feel ripped open.

Dear Cris,
I am willing to try an "open" relationship. As long as you are willing to work on the hurt in both of us it might cause and be willing to discuss openly any problems or solutions and insights you might have on this matter and together maybe we can try to solve this problem of being unfaithful, distrusting, insecure or whatever. And give me lots of positive reinforcement that you still love me as much as always and that it does not detract anything away from me and try to show me I have only to gain from it. But I will not do it if you do not love me enough to even give time to this. If you just want something shallow and selfish. No.

I feel I have given up my pride. But this is probably my insecurity. When I have been "enlightened" maybe I will feel much better. I feel very unenthusiastic, but I feel it is something I must do. I feel there is no way out. So I will face this with as much courage as I can muster. I cannot rest until ever stone is unturned or I kill myself in the process. Maybe the Universe is with me and something will save me from insanity. Because even if a man came up to me and told me he loved only me, I would not believe him. And if Cris will not be in this with me, I will find someone else eventually. My rose coloured glasses have definitely come almost off with Cris gone. He is not around to put a whirlwind in my head with his scent and touch and voice and aura. If I really think about it, there are much more better people for me. He is not as great as I put him. BUt I love him all the same, and that's what love is. Pretty miraculous really. So transforming.
It's 1:53 pm now. I am exhausted from crying and twisting my guts and brain around. It hurts me more than finding out there is no "god" that there is no such thing as "true love" in the romantic sense.

5-26-90 9:15pm

Artists and Lovers
a) a song about how people use words and be "clever" ,"witty" , talk, poems, large vocabulary, books as fake intellectual walls. empty communication.

b) a song about when i'm hysterical i push farther the thing I love. That I am hysterical about it leaving. Only adding to the leaving-which makes you feel more hysterical and feeling helpless and stupid. But you can't stop. You want to die.

Hysterics and Other Acrobatic Feats

c) The Vampire and The Faerie Queen

d) The death of love and other tales
e) at every touch i die and am reborn. The KIss of Death.

I went to see Dr. Simon the 24th then walked around to find Lou Eyrich's house to give her a tape of my album, since the 25th she's going on a world tour with Prince. Then I went to Cris' to feed spot. Fell asleep and had a 2 1/2 hour nap. woke and and called Vaughn. Vaughn made me spaghetti, showed me albums, we made out. I felt detached. I don't like the way he kisses , i've decided---too fast. He walked me home. I wanted to walk alone, to think and be by myself, be he insisted. I walked in my house. I had gotten a postcard from Cris saying that he'd missed me and no one was as beautiful as me ( in new orleans) and he saw me in everything. I felt partly guilty--very excited--maybe he would come back to me. The next day, which was Friday, I dressed up very nice to see him ( if I did ). At work he called me from the airport and said, " I love you! I miss you. Can I see you?" well, I was ecstatic. I could hardly contain myself, I skipped inside. I walked to his house and got myself a "happy buddha" from Sezchuan Express. It was raining. Walked in and played Syd Barrett then rewound "Hounds of LOve" Cris walks in before i rewind. I press play. He hugs me. I remember his smell. He kisses me. It melts. Vaughn's kisses seem like shit. He feels my ass, "Want to make love?", says he. I'm ecstatic. "I have two things to tell you", I say. He quiets down. I feel I am about to wreck everything. "First of all I added to your picture of Nikki". I show him. I show him the note. He is not mad. I am relieved. "what is the second thing?"
"well, I've kinda been seeing someone." It all comes out. I shrink. He sits down. I say , "Who is Arden?"
I find out she's one of his brother's friends who is also 17. She's really intelligent and has told him things about him he didn't even know, he says ( like I haven't). He kissed her! We rub salt into each other's wounds for over an hour. Things look bad. I regret everything. I just want to make love and be close. We decide to just drop it. I reheat my Happy Buddha. He eats most of it and shows me what he got in me in new orleans. I get a skull earring made of Yak bone, a plastic necklace saying "Bacchus", a yellow plastic necklace, 4 pieces of incense, a witchcraft success candle, chocolate covered coffee beans, and a pamphlet from one of the cemetaries and a card from the witchcraft store.
I show him my breast. He goes wild, we quickly rid of New Orleans off the bed. We whip our clothes off. I feel his flesh against mine. It's unbelievable. Sex was never so good. Just the right combination of fucking and making love, pain and pleasure, passion and tenderness. It was wild. I cry. We look into each others eyes, we're almost one. He says he could never do this with anyone else. I want to believe him. We order a pizza. I finally eat. I try to get him to promise that I will be his only lover. He can't say. The phone keeps ringing. It's Arden.
I fall asleep with the light on and the radio on. Cris tries to turn the light off and I'm 1/2 asleep and in a dream i panic, "Don't turn it off!"
The phone rings at 2:00am and waked me up with an immediate severe anxiety attack. I'd already taken a xanax to go to sleep. I take 1 1/2 more. I feel nauseated. I wake up very sad. I looko for his make-up, I find his journal instead. I'm compelled to peak. He writes about how he had a nap with Nikki "his Death Mate" and how "the beautiful Arden" slept over and the scent of her. It is followed by pages of writing about how New Orleans is his funeral. How he is death and is attending his own funeral. And pages of pornographic, ocerly developed women in various poses doing various sex acts, accounts of his flirtations. I am shattered. No words of me. I feel how can he make love to me then turn around and do this? I feel so sick. So ripped. I wake him up to ask where his make up is. He is oblivious, he smiles. I cannot. I think he thinks in his head at me, " oh no, not again."
I'm aware of digging my own grave, no pun intended.
I beg him to promise me I'm his only lover to stop my torment. Half asleep and exasperated he spits, " OK, I promise".
I fell even more like shit. Tears are coming. I must go to work. I was supposed to be there at 9:00am and it's 9:50am.
He is watching Beetlejuice and laughing.
I say, " I wish i could laugh." I wonder how he can laugh and enjoy himself so oblivious to this incredible hell I'm in, ready to die.
I hate him. I love him. I say goodbye. I leave.
He kisses me goodbye, though.
Outside of the building I look up to see if he is watching me out the wondow as he sometimes does. I stand there for a long time. He never comes. I don't care about anything--how I am late, if I even get fired, if I get run over. I call him from work and say , "thanks for promising. Thanks for the gift. You don't know how much it means to me." he says, " Sure, I'll call you, soon I hope.". It seems slightly more uplifting. But this promise weighs on me like he feels it is a chain. I try to call him again to tell him I don't want his promise and that I only want it when he GIVES it to me because he WANTS to. I don't want to make him unhappy. I can't force him. No answer. I call again. No answer. I leave to bring my tv home and umbrella and get this dress off Charlotte I want to trade in on a hat at Gabriella's. ( my tv was at work to watch twin peaks, and charlotte is my mannequin) I call him when I get home. No answer. I see that Vaughn had called me last night. I think, "shit."
I get a great psycho Virgin Mary that i sent away for by this 1-800 #.
I call again, I wake him up and he's pissed. I cower. I tell him my thing. He doesn't get it but says O.K. I trade my dress for that hat. It makes me happy for about 5 minutes. I have my purple plastic Bacchus necklace on and a crucifix, some of Cris' clothes ( which should be mine ) and my new hat. I feel insane. I call Cris back and apologize for waking him up and tell him about my hat. When I get off work at 4 I called him again to ask if I could come over and see his kids for a second. He beats around the bush. he says Arden and her sister are coming over. "Great" , i say. I get mad.
"arden can see the kids and I can't?"
He says he is sick of my shit. I think it's nothing compared to his shit. I say so and hang up on him.
Adrenalin rush. I walk very fats home with my "chicken with mushrooms' from Kimson. I call him and I deman an apology. He is snotty, he says i'm a snot. We go through a series of hanging up on each other and me calling him back. I can't stop. I'm hysterical.
Arden comes over in the middle of this. I scream like I did when I found out that Nikki stayed overnight. I break down and sob. He hangs up on me. I cry like my guts will come out. I quiet down. I call him back and say, "Do you hate me?"
"no."
"Do you still love me?"
"yes."
"ok", i whisper. I hang up.
I feel like a dog. I take an antidepressant and a xanax. I call my mom. I talk to her for over an hour. It helps. I get ready to go out and see The Wahinis which has got Ed's girlfriend in it. They're playing at The Speedboat Gallery. I had arranged this when Lisa and JOgn came into Ragstock. I get all dressed up in black lace and my new hat. I cover my eyes with eyeshadow. I get stoned. I go. I'm very talkative.
We arrive. The WAhinis had played at 6 and it was not free but $3.00. We stand in the hallway deciding what to do. Deciding took an hour and a half and in this time I ate a hotdog and got a free beer and talked to Jennifer, Ed's girlfriend, Linda, the drummer, John, some girl who knows Brenda my old roomate, Lisa's guitar player Grant. It's weird to throw myself into this, I think, but fun. But only for an hour and a half---perfect time--after that it could get boring and depressing. Jennifer invites me to her and Ed's house for a Memorial Day barbeque. All I need is to be reminded of old boyfriends. "Ed doesn't deserve her", i think. I come home. I'm desparately tired. I write this not really wanting to---wanting it to be done--but feeling compelled to excorcise it. I don't know if it made me feel better.
Next three days i have off. I might lock myself in my room and record songs or write them. I hope it rains. It did today. As soon as i brought my umbrella home. I didn't care. I called Cris again. I said pretty deadpan that I hope he could understand why I act the way I do. I told him to call me tonight if he liked, but I understood if he didn't want to. I'm sure I'll be asleep , though. And he won't call anyway. He'll probably go to a party and either see Arden or Nikki. I hate him. I wish he'd go away...very very far away. I have no control and it bums me out that the next section of this journal all the pages are orange.
I feel everything so much that I feel nothing. Kind of like when u mix many colours together you get black.
10:25pm and counting.