I Gave a Child a Gun (12/28/08 Sunday)

Julie is still often on my mind, but in a context much different than in the months before this one. It's with a retrospection--not nostalgia--that I see her now. Or, rather, it's her I'm seeing myself through--not looking from her eyes--I still can't do that--but reflecting from her. Much of what I feel is shame. I think of the little things I did for her before declaring my affection to her at the coffee shop, and how she accepted them innocently, as a friend, not suspecting, apparently, my higher motives. It's then that I feel a cheat, a fraud, a manipulator; that I took advantage of her acceptance of my dishonest attentions. But could it have been otherwise? I still don't know for how long I'd been harboring my attraciton to Julie before I declared it to myself. Was it my duty to have told her sooner in order to preclude the dance of deception? Or was it simply my duty to keep it to myself or to believe my mind when it told me, innumerable times, that there was nothing in Julie for me? I tried to trust my heart, but my heart was not up to the responsibility, and my head could not find its way through the heart's smokescreen. Shame is too harsh an assesment, though. How could I have done differently? This entire endeavor was an experiment--in what, exactly, I'm still working out. Maybe candor, overarchingly. Much of what I've said here could not have been said without the heart's voice, could not have been expressed through clinical thought. Embarrassment is a better word than shame for what I feel in looking back on all this, for the hurt I feel is all in my pride. The indignation was justified to a degree, until it became less about the injustice done to me than the damage to my ego it tried to mask.

I'm not sure I want Julie off my mind. She is still a powerful catalyst for my writing, if only as that reflection of myself. It's not the vestige of attraction that keeps me clinging, but of losing a reason to write. Julie is the symbol (the icon?) of that, and likely will be until I have accepted my mistakes with humor, compassion and understanding.

I remain intent on leaving Twin Hickory, regardless of my emotional adjustment. It can't but help. Even should Julie complete the adjustment with me being there (if she hasn't already), my not being there would simplify the emotions in the workplace. Chris answered my email with a willingness but not a commitment, citing family obligations. I'll have to push it, nail him to a day and time. He closed his reply with, "I only wish you the best." Strangely, my initial reaciton was not cynical. It was not till a few moments later did I think, "Is that what telling Julie about the blog was, doing what was best for me?" I can't afford that attitude, but neither can I let him dictate terms in any way. He has to make time for this conversation. Tammy won't be back for another week, and I've heard nothing from management about my request. The timing has not been good, with holidays interrupting work and people taking time off, but it's no less imperative to me than ever.