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7 & 1/2 Acres |
2003-07-13 - 9:36 a.m. So I said this: I said, I will be happy to go through the rest of my life and never see you again. You have taken and taken from me. I hate you. I think you're a bitch. Fuck you Mary, this time I'll hang up. She said, Oh, did that go through--about leaving the message on my answering machine. She said, What message, what are you trying to prove, what's your objective here. She said, Don't you get on your high and mighty horse with me. She hung up. I asked her to hear me out and so I told her about Sali. Then I said what I said. And my heart is racing as it raced when I heard the machine last night. Her message following on the tails of one from Sali. It was after one when I heard the machine. It took me a long time to settle back down, come to peace. These words occupied my first thoughts, they got me out of bed. I've called her and I am done, done, done. She is out of my life and this is good. Gone you bitch from hell. I may of said something about that too. Go to hell or something of the sort. I wanted to make sure I got it all out. I had a list. It said: -judging -funny/qualified -hard place with Sali (love and importance) -taken -never see again I didn't need to list the cuss words because I knew they'd come. They came from deep within me and carried on them the baggage from many years of hearing her voice on the machine, seeing her face at their parents, or coffee shop, or unexpectedly around town. Or at her house and how I hated to go there. All of this is done and this is good. I love you Sali Rae and I am sorry. I know the repercussions from this action, this fuck you are already quaking through Greensboro. I know she's cried and then gotten to the telephone. And, I don't care. I am sorry though, Sali. To you. You're so smart and sensitive and I imagine this will sting.
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