The reason why I haven’t been writing much in a while is clear. I’m paranoid. So afraid my privacy will be invaded. Got I hope I get those tapes back! It seems all my life I always end up losing the things that I love and care about so much. I feel like this is just too much of a punishment. At home, in Brattleboro, in Valleyhead and other places I’ve always had to fight to hang onto the things I need and love. I always lose. I hate it. I hate that trapped feeling. I hate it when I lose people as well as material things. Friends or people I liked as well as was attracted to that could give a rat’s ass about me and how I feel.

I spoke to my lawyer who reminds me of Tracy K. I told her I was gay and she said, “Me too,” as if she needed to tell me. Shit, you can just look and see that as you can with just about all gay women except for me.

As I began to write the last time, till court began, I ended up talking with Chief B and Carol for nearly two hours after only intending to get my papers and leave. It amazed me how much they wanted to get to know and understand more about me. They were quite sensitive and understanding, too. The first thing the Chief and Carol said is how they’re open to all kinds of relationships and accept people as they are. We discussed that and all the stuff I love to do and why I feel hopeless and trapped. I even ended up singing for them and they asked me. That was nice. The Chief, who thinks I’m attractive and let me know that when he met me, took a picture of me. They gave me one, too.

Well, anyway, last Friday or Saturday night I did something quite bad. I mean, we’re talking about the most major setback and something I haven’t done since I was 17. That’s right. I cut myself. I actually cut myself. I lay in bed that night, desperately trying to suppress the urge to reach out, but knowing I couldn’t. Knowing no one was there. Wanting, wishing to be held, loved, communicated with. Trying to accept that I’d always be alone. Never ever being able to have the one-night stand every few months I want with what’s basically the wrong kind of women which is straight women. Feminine women. Trying not to think about Andy, Nervous, Steve, Jai, Paula, Jessie and Fran. Trying to block out the bad memories of the past. Bad memories of mom and any places she threw me away to. Trying to forget about music. Damn! It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I was supposed to move and have the beautiful apartment and area be enough for me, and not need or think about music, sex or anything fun in the past or something fun in the present. Once upon a time, Andy and I going to the parking lot late at night behind the temple was no big deal. Now I miss it so much. I’d just love to be able to do that right this minute. It’s funny the things we take for granted till they’re all gone and you miss them so much!

Tomorrow, I’ll write about the talk I had with Tammy and about the aerobics place next door.