i was going to write an essay all about the people who have loved me and what they've managed to make of me in the short or long time that they've known me. i've known people who have "fallen in love with me" after a kiss, a conversation, an affair, a dream, a masturbation session, a sudden desire to gain me as a prize. since my beginning dating years i've never gone more than 2 months without a kiss and never more than 4 months without some kind of sex. people think because they make me think or laugh or cry that they've meant something to me. and i marvel at how fast i can detach myself from someone the minute they tell me "they're in love". the only person i ever fell in love with never said that to me. in fact he didn't even like saying "i love you" the way you would to a grandmother. and for the whole 2 years i was with him, and the yr i haven't been, i've tortured myself into believing he was the one person who couldn't fall in love with me. but i know that isn't true.

i know because he used to tell me that being away from me was like walking around in circles and then eventually walking into walls.

i know because he studied me when i talked as if he were recording every word and saving it for the ten minutes of thinking time he used before falling asleep at night.

and i am sure because the framed black and white photo of my mouth (puckered and half exhausted lips) on my bedroom wall is one, among many, he photographed. he had said it was for a project but i later found out, it wasn't.

2002-02-14, 7:30 p.m.
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