I’m pretty high and it was just outrageously nice to hear from you. Don’t worry about losing that letter–I really don’t care what happens to it or who reads it. I’m not ashamed and don’t regret my actions at all. Keith and I avoid each other pretty much. When we do meet, it’s very tense. He wants to make it very clear that he doesn’t love me and I want to make it very clear that I don’t expect him to.
I did a crazy thing yesterday. I knew I shouldn’t and that I would get in trouble, but I just wanted it so bad I did. I went out and adopted a kitten. Isn’t that just what I need? It will probably turn out to be Harry’s and mine (will explain later on down the page). It’s black with bright blue eyes and doesn’t have a name yet. He’s (at least I got a male) so little I have to feed him out of a baby bottle. When I walk around he follows me everywhere, unless he’s asleep. I love him so much.
Now about Harry. Yes, I got back with him and I’ve never been so happy (almost). We each had our little line of lovers while we were split up, but that’s over. It is subject to ending again, but I really doubt it will, at least not for a while. I am keeping the kitten over at his apartment until it gets old enough to fend among the other cats at my mom’s house.
Work has been totally far-out. I had three stories in the paper last week, which is a hell of a lot for a copy girl. I sure am still getting paid copy girl wages, which is a bitch, but when I leave this place to go to a good paper I can say that I started writing News at sixteen.
School has been a drag, but I HAVE FINALLY BEAT THE SYSTEM!!! Did I tell you about the Dean’s office? I got suspended for ditching so my mom came in and we made an agreement with the Dean that I can have a pass off-campus whenever I want. My mom wrote a note that they’ve put in my file and all I do is go into the office, tell them I want the pass and they give it to me. I don’t even have to say where I’m going! The Dean is pushing for me to do a bridge year at UNLV next year. That means I’ll get my first year out of the way while I finish high school. The institution (school) is a bunch of shit, but if I want a good job I have to go to college. I’m up to state senators on my list of interviews in Quest. This class has opened my eyes to how things are supposed to be run versus how they are run. I am supposed to write some bullshit, fact-finding type paper at the end of all this for the Dean, but I’m going to write a very radical thing, something that tells it like it is. I don’t like how it is.
My sister is in the hospital. I went to see her today but she was really in pain and couldn’t talk so I just gave her this plant I got her and left. She had something (a cyst or something) in her uterus. They had to cut her open. I hope she hurries up and gets better.
* * *
—
Good morning! Sitting here smoking a joint and getting very high so bear with me, please. Feeling very guilty. “What would He think if He saw me smoking a joint?” I think. Then: none of my beeswax what He thinks of me.
Surprise! Harry told me to make an appointment to get my contact lenses for my birthday. I’d like to change my eye color—how far can you go on shit brown? I don’t know if I’ll look any better, but it will be nice not to have eighteen pounds of glass and metal sitting on my nose.
I’m in Shakespeare class now. Just can’t get into reading for some reason. It’s only fourth period and I’ve already ditched two classes today. I’m blowing it, but don’t care.
I have to go to the doctor today. I’m about four days late on my period and my breasts are swollen to a thirty-eight. Ridiculous! I can’t even lay on my stomach because they hurt so much. The rest of my sex organs are fucking up too. I don’t know what it all adds up to but I guess I’ll find out today. I hope it’s not—
I’m going to send this thing today! I know these bits are pretty incoherent, but I hope you understand them.
Love you,
Martha
Denise,
School’s out. No one telling me what to do. Cyndi and Jack and Keith graduated two nights ago; I guess they are Adults. I went to a party on grad night at Keith’s country club and have not yet risen from it. I got pretty drunk but not so anyone could tell. Keith strutted around with his fancy SOC friends who drive LTDs and wear formals and suits. A blonde chick hung on his arm. Keith introduced me to her as “Jack’s sister,” as if I had never been anything to him. Which I never have been. He lies to me without lying. He comes to my house and we talk for hours about love and the future and the changes and I understand him and he understands me, but to the blonde in the black dress with pearls around her neck I am Jack’s sister. No one knows about how we were, so Keith doesn’t have to worry about his reputation being soiled by the little pauper from Fairway and he glides off early with his rich bitch because she is taking him to a dinner show at the Hilton. What is having someone give you their whole self compared to a dinner show at the Hilton? And the kicker: before they go Keith mentions casually that they are going to Reno in the morning. To get married.
The next morning I got Yo-yo and drove the car to the mountains and walked for hours. I still felt degraded in the worst way but I could also feel the wind coming up, strong and cooling. I let it blow right through me until I felt clean.
At home I let Yo-yo in the house and he runs to Keith sitting at the kitchen table. I said, “I thought you went to Reno.”
“No, I decided not to go. Would you like a fry?”
“No thank you,” I say, and want to kick my own goddamn stupid asshole head for ever thinking Keith was what I thought he was. He is everything I thought he wasn’t. But I don’t hate him, I hate me for being so fucking dumb. Him at the table makes me want to scream, so I leave him there and walk out the back door into the desert.
At 5 A.M. I come home looking for a little peace. Keith’s sleeping on the couch with his mouth open and I smile at him, thinking oh, God, leave me alone, and stumble into bed. When I wake up he’s gone. Has not been seen since. I know I am sick in the mind to feel this for all these years no matter what he does. I don’t know how to cure myself. I used to say I’d grow out of this thing, we’d both grow up and then it would be different and we wouldn’t need each other anymore. But now I realize I’ve been saying that for years. When am I going to stop killing myself for his pleasure?
Not that I expect you to have the answer. I don’t care if you understand this or if you approve of it or if you think I’m as crazy as I think I am. I love Keith. It’s a ripping, hateful love. Why can’t I outgrow it? How many years will he take from me?
Don’t get bummed by this letter. Really, I feel better having written it and hope you can just take it for that.
Your sinking but swimming cousin,
Martha . . .
Dear Nese,
Harry and I are not going together anymore. He said he was tired of me, that I tried too hard to please him, and I was “no challenge to hold anymore,” and that maybe he’d see me sometime.
This was in the library at UNLV. I had gone to class and Harry surprised me after and said he wanted to get loaded at some tiki bar and I said who wouldn’t but I had to study and was going to the library. He followed me there acting huffy and when I got inside I told him we had to talk and whispered what the fuck was the problem? That’s when he told me all that stuff. He also said I couldn’t live without him. I told him, not whispering, to never get it into his head that I couldn’t live without him because I damn well could. I said I lived through more than him every single day. He said “good” and left.
I am sort of glad the whole thing happened. There are tons of downers going around. I haven’t taken any and never will after seeing everyone on them. A bunch of staggering, drunken slobs and Harry the biggest asshole of them all. But he’s an asshole when he’s straight.
School at the university is pretty mellow but there’s a lot of work and I haven’t gotten into it a lot because this thing with Harry has bummed me out and I don�
�t have enough money to get all the books.
I got my senior pictures. They really aren’t too bad. I’ll send you one after we get them processed or whatever.
Alive and well,
Martha
Dear Denise,
This is your typewriter I’m typing this on. Remember the old one your mom gave Monica? Well, I fixed it and now I’m using it. I love it.
Everything else is going steadily downhill. I’ll start with my current love affair. I can’t say I’m enjoying it. I think I told you about Vince, my editor from The Sun? Well, I’ve been going out with him and it was pretty mellow but now he’s beginning to cling and claw. He’s been calling me every night and last night I told him I really didn’t want to see him for a while and tonight he called and asked me to come over and I just flat out told him I did not want to. He got kind of hot and he’ll without a doubt kill all my stories now, but after this thing with Harry and Keith still sniffing around I’m really not up to taking on another maniac. I’m also hanging with this cat Bob (19) and his two brothers (17, 16). Terri and I went to the mountains with them.
Pete had a major freak out on Friday the 13th and beat up Terri’s brother, John. He also busted Terri’s window and tore her parents’ bedroom apart. He just blew a fuse for no apparent reason and went wild. Then he was all right for a week or so until last night when he almost killed Terri in my living room. They got in their hassle and Terri started screaming and my mom woke up and called the pigs. They never came.
UnLove (UNLV) is really getting to be a gas. I can do what I want when I want as long as I keep up on my high school classes too. The atmosphere at college is different. Less bullshit.
Speaking of bullshit, Keith brought his girlfriend over here last night and I almost murdered both of them. I still feel for him and he knows it. I wish he’d stay away so I never have to see his ugly face. She’s really not a bad chick for an SOC. Keith foxy as ever, honestly.
Anyhow, write and let me know what you’re doing. How’s school going? I’m being pretty lazy but doing all right. Got to go wash my hair.
Miss you and love,
Martha
* * *
—
Ate some mushrooms last night and it was unbelievable. There was absolutely no acid paranoia. Ate them with Terri and we talked and laughed for about four hours straight. Terri is so beautiful. Her parents got down on us for making too much noise but even that didn’t bum us out. Terri just told them sweetly not to bug us and we went and had a great time in the desert staying up all night even though there was no speed in the stuff. It didn’t take all that much to get off, either. Approx a thousand times better than acid. If you ever get a chance to eat them, do it! You can do it anywhere and with anyone and there is no fear of the Big Freak Out.
Everything else is moving pretty much normal around here. I’ve gone out with Harry about four times since we broke up. I like it better this way.
* * *
—
It all started last night when Keith came over. As you know, I have had this thing going with Keith for quite some time. Well, he was paying special attention to Terri last night. Anyway, we all ended up drinking two bottles of whiskey then Kathy came over and Keith shifted his attention to her.
Let me tell you about Kathy. She’s fourteen, very beautiful. She has long thick dark brown hair below her waist. She has very dark eyes and a nice face. Her body is perfect. She’s rich and dresses beautifully and is very nice besides.
So, we all got very drunk and eventually Keith and Jack went to the movies. Terri, young Kathy and I sat in my room and talked. I wasn’t saying much, just listening to them two talk. They started talking about Keith. Long story short, we found out that he was trying to make both of them. Well, they were pissed off enough at him for screwing them around but when I said, “Make that three,” they almost died. I was in pretty bad shape myself, drunk and crying and shit.
Terri wants to go out with him still and I think Kathy does too, but neither of them want to cross me. I told both of them to go ahead, I even recommend it, but they insist on trying to please me. This trio trip is starting to bum me out.
I can’t remember what happened after Terri and Kathy went home. I remember a phone ringing and this morning when I woke up I discovered a number of things: (1) my hand had been bleeding and my legs were all bruised up, dried blood all over my hand and in my bed, and (2) a note from Brian Dunbar on the floor saying he is “still wishing to go to the mountains. Please call me or I’ll call you by 10” and (3) Brian’s wallet and $25 laying the floor. Denise, I honestly have no idea where any of this came from. I must have hassled with someone or something, and no one seems to know.
That’s my lost night.
Dear Denise,
Things have changed a lot around here. I left the paper and got a job at this place called Fun City Arcade. I sit in this booth and make sure people don’t tear the place up. It is a truly shitty job, but I need the money. My boss is nice, about 22 and gets high so we can talk at least.
I spent the last two days in the mountains at Tim’s cabin with Tim and Brian. We mostly partied and cleaned the cabin for winter. The first snow of the season fell when we were up there. It was a gas. Harry went to New York Tuesday. I spent two days with him before he left and I think that I understand the relationship a lot better now. He said I am “a lifelong thing” for him and that I was thinking about us in a very “limited perspective.” He’s going for a couple of months to visit his brothers and family and I can’t say I blame him. I’d be gone in two minutes if I had the means. I think more than anything else I’m jealous of him because he gets to come and go and I don’t. I really love him, but I don’t need him to live. He gave me a ring. We understand each other and that’s enough. He left all his stuff here, TV, stereo, books which I have made good use of.
In fact I am sending you one. It won’t help you “escape.” It’s not a story to take your mind off what you are doing. It is to put your mind into what you are doing. To make you look at yourself. Whenever I get to feeling like you sound, I read this book. If you don’t understand it, read it again. It’s about how the pain comes from trying to get away from the pain.
One more garbage article before I close: I have sent an application to the University of Colorado at Boulder.
Dear Denise,
I’m glad the book made you think. If you really want a job, get one! You can’t baby yourself forever. About the sex thing—don’t worry. Everyone at one time or another questions their sexuality. I went to the school psychiatrist for exactly the same reason. He really didn’t help me too much—said I sounded hysterical—so I have to work it out myself, but I know it is normal to have those feelings you describe because we have both male and female hormones. Don’t worry about it. It’s totally normal!
I have been having a good time, learning a lot at UnLove, seeing a lot of Keith but being independent. Of course, I know better than to make anything out of it. Keith is 99% imagination. I don’t regret anything I’ve ever said or done with him, but I sort of wish I didn’t love him because then I could be free.
Dear Denise,
Terri got put on restriction for a week because she got excessive absences in her first period. My mother couldn’t believe that a parent would actually put a 17-year-old on restriction. She said it was the stupidest thing she’s ever heard. Now Terri can’t go skiing this weekend, and since she was my ride, neither can I. I’ve been trying to learn but I’m pretty cloddy on skis. I’m still working at that pinball arcade and it’s still a drag, but I still need the money. Mark is trying to get me on at the El Cortez so I can make some bucks before I leave for school.
Harry is still in New York. I miss him. I called him the other day and he has no idea when he’ll come back but he said he’d see me again.
Until four days ago I’d been having a f
airly mellow relationship with Keith. He’d come over every day (sometimes twice a day) and we were getting pretty friendly, even in front of other people, and I was digging it. We’d spend hours and hours at night gossiping about the daily bullshit, hitting that vitamin G. Then, maybe four days ago, I ran out of things to say so I started listening. It’s taken me a long time to realize it, but Keith and I have absolutely nothing in common. We basically think different. He values things that have zero meaning to me. We don’t even get along. For the longest time I thought I was in love with him when really we’re on completely different wavelengths. Like, I love this person, but do I even like him? I’ve seen him both today and yesterday but I don’t feel that bigness in my heart anymore. I feel numb, dead, and he’s yammering on . . .
Hey Nese,
I’m here at Fun City (what fun) listening to the kids scream and the bells ring. Lights flashing, degenerates everywhere. In case it isn’t apparent: I hate this place. My boss (big stoner asshole) left me here by myself so that I have to work for nine hours straight without a lunch break.
Anyway, I don’t pretend Keith loves me because I know he doesn’t, but he feels good, and that sure helps. I hope this doesn’t blow your idea of me. That guy has an unbelievable power over me. I thought I’d grow out of all this, but I think it will be with me until the end of my days.
Got to go now. Place is busy.
Love,
Martha
* * *
—
Happy turkey day. I tried to call you but no one was home. I figure you could be a number of places. I’m feeling pretty strange these days. I feel time passing. My mom’s house is so quiet I could die. Everybody’s working. This chick I know turned me on to a bunch of pot and I’ve been smoking all morning and now it’s like I’m trapped in my head. I’m beginning to realize what I think I see isn’t necessarily what is there at all. I hope you have a very foodful day.
I Love You but I've Chosen Darkness Page 13
