I noticed a missing word in a sentence in the last part of the story and so I added it in. I also put a sentence in quotes that shouldn’t have been in quotes and corrected a word in the steamy dream scene. beats head How do I keep missing these things? I mean, I know a lot of work goes into writing a book and that it’s no easy task, but after going through one silent read-through and one electronic read-through, you’d think I’d catch more of these things. Argh!

Maliheh’s getting pretty anxious for the next part of the story, seeing that she’s already been in at least 4 times today, LOL. I never would’ve believed in a million years she’d be back in my life, even though she’s not really, and she’ll never contact me unless I “make” her. I think I’ll go make her say hello on my blog right now. It’s been a few days.

Got my first visit from someone in NJ from the old diary site. Since I’m still on the favorites page there’s no way to know if they specifically looked for me over there or if they linked in through the favorites page.

I want my damn adapter so I can learn more of my beautiful teacher’s ugly language! If it doesn’t arrive at the mail place today, then tomorrow for sure.

Now that I’ve gotten enough other work done, it’s time to tackle chapter 6. I hope to have at least some of it posted by around 9pm.

Later…

There’s no way I can finish chapter 6 today. It’s just too much work and taking much longer than expected. Part of this is because I’m referring to past journals where I mention Maliheh. I’m not sure yet if I’m going to use some of the actual excerpts or just work them into the story in other ways, but when I was reading through from the second half of 1991 to the beginning of 1992, a couple of surprises jumped out at me.

I wrote that I sent Maliheh a “prank” letter in February of 1992. But I never had her address! I also have no recollection whatsoever of writing/sending the letter. In the whacky letter, I would have mixed lines from songs and shit like that so it was really confusing.

I also may’ve falsely accused her of returning the prank calls. Maybe at least some of them had nothing to do with her. According to what I read, a guy called me in November and hit on me. They also mentioned that I’d had a breakdown the other night and was at the Northampton crisis center which was true. I had been. I spoke to the crisis center people by phone a few times each month during the 10 months I lived in S. Deerfield. The bar’s parking lot was within view of the crisis center and so I had assumed that Maliheh and some friends were at the bar that night and saw me. I do stand out and don’t exactly have many look-alikes.

The same guy called back two months later in January. Only problem is that I had a different phone number! They cut my service for a while because I had a huge phone bill, and when they reconnected me it was with a different number.

That leaves two possibilities – that all or at least some of the calls were either connected to Kim and Mark, or to a crisis worker.

Reading back on some of this shit I see that yes, I was one mixed-up, immature person, alright, but I also understand how and why the accumulative effects of the experiences I had in life could cause one to lash out the way I did, right or wrong. I don’t expect others to understand me and I’m not trying to make excuses for what I did. I also realize that I will never truly be forgiven for what I did, simply because most people don’t forgive. They may talk about it and agree that it seems like a nice concept, but I know it’s not real life for the most part. This doesn’t mean that I myself am going to switch back into non-forgiving mode, even if I probably should.

I still don’t hold a grudge either way for the calls (if she was behind them) or for upsetting me with any disagreements we had after all these years. The past is the past. Had she robbed me or beaten me or tried to kill me, that would be different. That I would never and could never forgive. Yet despite being fucked over a million times worse by a few others in life, she has remained just as memorable as them in my mind. Strange, huh? I wonder if she’d be less memorable had she not been someone I was attracted to.