The Man Who Broke My Heart, Ocaisional Musing

[anniemal]

His name is (maybe was) Chuck Malloch (Charles Bernard Malloch), and he shattered me against the pavement like a china tea cup. Oh yeah, it was thirty-two (half my lifetime) years ago, but it was the start of many bad things. It's his birthday. Also the combination to his alarm system thirty-two years ago. Narcissistic brat.

I did reassemble myself, but the glued-together version is not quite the same as the mostly self-confident previous one. I hold warm liquid, but worry about the adhesive showing, or coming apart. Wish I could say I've completely forgiven the asswipe, but I confess that I hope most of his days are rotten and the good ones remind him of how rotten the other ones are. Not likely, but after what he put me through, fair play.

Have a lousy birthday, Chuck!

There was a better, more profound thought that I should've typed first. I always forget the good ones while typing the whiny ones.

My "E" key is going. Mayb it's tim to get th new computer out of the drawer. It's going, not quite dad yet. Oh, that typo! *chortle*

Comments

[malada]

Boo too narcissistic brats! I hope he spends his life _never_ getting what he wants.

Part of my own journey was trying to save one. It didn't work. Grifting, lying, thieving asshole. I still carry the scars decades later.

But I have my love now and things are okay.

[anniemal]

Thank you. Love is my function and it really hurts. I had to tell the hospital to pull the plug on the love of my older life. It was five years ago and I still weep. He was so fun, and srious, in a ral way, and h was not very sane. His mind was a joy to try to understand.

I remember. You taught me to stablish my gender prepositions at the start of a rlationship. I wasn't kidding about my "E"key being flukey. So when I took up with a transgendred born-again lady with a man's body she loathed but lived with, our big issu was religion. I still find most religion for stupid people. Who was it called it "the opiate of th masses."? I wish I could believe in some ovr-allseeeing Powr. Or heavn. Or a next life, but I don't/cannot. D'G isnot in heaven. Sh is dead, gone, ashs. Her soul? Gone as that corpse I found in her bathtub. C'est la mort.

You are one of the very few people who find m a friend. I'm grateful.

[malada]

I was grateful to the friends I made during that difficult time. I'm glad I found you again. I've lost track of almost everyone else.

I was subscribed to D/G - my housemate pointed them out to me. I learned through other contacts of their passing but didn't know it was you who found them. It must have been hard. My sympathies.

Do keep in touch.