My Friend Milena


Fri 13 Sept, 1996

Gotta say something about my friend Milena. She is _something_, let me tell ya. & i do feel very lucky that she chose to come into my life. Both of us feel we have a pretty strange relationship. This is her first affair into which she hasn’t completely thrown herself hook, line & sinker; and this is not only my first affair in about four years, it is also one of the least-serious i’ve ever had. Not that i’m a veteran at long-term, committed relationships like Milena is, anyway (my longest relationship– about 6 months), but even for me, what we have is pretty loose. She respects my space and i really dig that, seeing as how i get tired of company (even my own) real easy. We make each other feel good, she doesn’t make me feel guilty or worthless for not having enough money to take her to dinner every night. On the contrary, she is very content to just hang out here at the 1/2 Pad while i work at my computer. And, probably what i like about her best is that she is so open: she speaks her mind, which i appreciate because i am not really a competent verbal-expressor-of-my-feelings; and her easiness at talking helps me feel a bit easier talking about myself.

So many people in my life really think that i’m happy-go-lucky, carefree, always happy. And that’s the front i put up all the time. Well, it’s not _really_ a front, because i generally AM a happy person. I am definitely BLESSED. I mean, i got it pretty dang easy, after all. Lots of friends and family who will help me out at the drop of a pin. But me & my siblings were raised to be independent. And in me, it’s manifested itself in a bit of an unusual way. I am a social non-conformist in that i don’t just follow current social trends; but i also don’t make my inner self immediately viewable. On the outside, i am approachable and fairly unselfconscious; but on the inside, i’m pretty insecure. Having someone like Milena in my life, who is genuinely concerned about me, how i feel, what my life is like, and who _gets me to talk_, helps me feel like my life is valid.

Must be some kind of genetic disorder– my papa is like this– this lack of self-respect. Well, sometimes i really feel like i have something important to say, but other times, i figure, “what’s the point? I mean, really– what IS there to say?”

I consistently feel “right” when i am unaware of myself as a separate, isolated ego. Which is, obviously, the vast majority of the time. Like when i’m asleep. Or when i’m deep into a Photoshop session or a music session, or drumming with friends, or dancing. But lately it’s been especially difficult to be free & easy. I mean, i don’t have very much (definitely not enuff) money coming in. And money is the big social convention. We’re all after this imaginary asset. We all agree that this money thing is a good idea.

If i cd spend my days & nights just lying next to Milena, talking with her, touching her, kissing her, i believe that anything past that wd just be icing on the cake…

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