Getting dumped while high is nauseating, you work so hard to make everything align.. maintain... and with the precision of a swiss made watch that cunt drops it on you. When you look back you can see the signs creeping up, like the weak pussy you are you've lied to yourself, ignored the blatantly obvious... with the one exception, she's dumping you to prove what a cunt she is. I panic! backtrack! back-track !! I act like a bigger cunt than she is!! and after an hour and a half of pleading, tears, more pleading she's back onside and even though we both now know what a big fucking charade its been.... the awkward lovebirds are back together and its 1am and I'm munching green pills like its going out of fashion, we hug each other ready for a repeat in a few days.
Its harder to justify each time, she's a beautiful girl with all the world ahead of her, I'm a fat fucking drug addict and the bruises on her back are a stark reminder that I am now probably amongst the men I swore to 'protect' her against. Sometimes these 'break ups' are a good way to seemingly skip back a while into more picture-postcard friendly times.
Around the age of five she was left in the care of a neighbour, A family friend, somehow it was months before her parents realised that he'd been raping her. Around the time of the legal action, the family was forced to move house and during this time her father lost her job. The drinking that had probably allowed her abuse to last so long unnoticed and pretty soon she became a tiny human punchbag, frequently kept home from school after he'd tried so hard to knock her through the wall.
She often spoke of her athleticism, and despite whole days vanishing from her memory due to the insanity of her drinking regime she had fucking great legs, tiny she may be but in another life maybe, an athlete. Christ I yearned for her star to rise somehow.. it sounds sappy and melodramatic but fuck it, the brain on her shoulders was the most frighteningly intense, sharp, infinite headfuck I had ever come into battle with. Whilst depression would be a light 'cover all' term for what made her tear the living fuck out of herself with the aggression of a pitbul tearing another's throat open, she could just as easily sit an explain to me the many reasons WHY she would do such extreme things to herself with the depth and clarity of a professor, even that is selling her short, her brilliant mind was constantly at odds with everything she was.
Her faith in me was unnerving, I just wanted to be unlike the people who had let her down, hurt her, worse, given her this route in life, I just wanted to 'look after' her, that's it.. the bottom line, before I knew the horrors of her past, I was a sap in love with this pretty young girl, I wanted the best for her.. I'm sure somehow I could do that, It took me a little while to realise that with her, with her It wouldn't be easy. Replacing Watchmen with Plath was cool, I dug that, she turned me on to so much great stuff, I realised how closed off I was simply because I was always so miserable at school, now not only was I reading my beloved Lovecraft with more voracity than ever, I was collecting books of his letters, Biographies of folks she recommended, to this day she gave me so much drive to be better, smarter... more fucked up!. The kindest thing, she gave me so much more self respect and drive, one thing I cannot help but thank her for.
The most troubling thing to me about the way her mind worked was her clinical understanding of everything that would happen at the depths of her depression, an hour before gouging and cutting deep into her arms and thighs, she would explain why it makes her feel good, its important role in relieving her (other) pain. Troubling because she knew how her mind was degenerating, troubling because she knew how everything would play out with her life, Her sharp, fierce, troubled and troubling mind was its own worst enemy. When an atheist in good health chooses to kill themself then in my mind at least they knew something I don't.
I despise smoking, always have - never smoked once, aside from pot and heroin, never tobacco, It grosses me out, Catherine shared a vice with her mother, they were both secret smokers, on several occasions I saw her smoke... and you know what? it was HOT. Something about my most despised of habits... gave me a boner, was it that she looked too young to smoke? was it that the illicit nature of it all.. for some reason it seemed like such a big deal but for all the reasons that weren't obvious, she looked so fucking hot, it was insane. I'd love her whatever, the fact of the matter was that her smoking once or twice wasn't really a big deal in the whole scheme of things. I even thought it was cute when she'd snort speed from the back of a cd case.
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