[Originally posted on the No-Lyfe Journal]

Dateline: 1 week ago.

I got home from the Rodeo at around midnight. I thought that I saw her car outside, but I didn't know why it would be there or, for that matter, why she would be here. I glanced up and sure enough, there she was. Of course she was, though. It's Wednesday. She always talks to me on Wednesdays. The day of the week we got together and the day of the week we broke up. She's not that particular, though. If she can't track me down on a Wednesday, it can wait until Thursday.

As I expected, she was waiting for me on the balcony outside. At least she didn't let herself in this time.

RAW: Good evening.
Lisa: Where have you been? I haven't seen you all week.
RAW: I'm taking a break from the Internet.
Lisa: Why? Avoiding me?
RAW: Would it matter if I was?
Lisa: Yes.
RAW: No.
Lisa: If not that, what then?
RAW: Avoiding online in general.
Lisa: You're not going to tell me why, are you?
RAW: Why would I? You're here to talk about you.
Lisa: Do you miss me?
RAW: Define “miss”
Lisa: Why do you always parse words?
RAW: Why do you always change the meaning of the word after I answer?
Lisa: Do you miss being together? Do you miss the time we spent hanging out? Do you miss anything about me?
RAW: No. Sometimes. Maybe.
Lisa: You said you'd tell me if you missed me.
RAW: I just told you if I did. One negative, two indefinite responses.

I offered for us to go inside and she agreed. I opened the door and held it for her. It offended her feminist sensibilities, but I was always good at that.

Lisa: Your room is still clean?
RAW: According to some. Not according to others.
Lisa: I was going to offer to help you clean.
RAW: No need.
Lisa: Oh.
RAW: Yeah.

She didn't say anything immediately after that. She sat on the bed for a moment, and then got up to start picking up loose change that was sitting on the floor, as usual. I sat at the computer and checked my email why she placed the coinage in the cylinder CDR case we'd designated for the loose change a couple months, or nine Wednesdays, ago.

Lisa: So you're still obsessed with email.
RAW: Not obsessed. I got a couple emails from the Congressman while I was out.
Lisa: The Republican?
RAW: Deal with it.
Lisa: I'm not saying anything.
RAW: Okay.
Lisa: Why don't you miss me?
RAW: I didn't say that I didn't miss you. I just said that I don't miss being with you.
Lisa: Because of your thing about second chances.
RAW: Yes.
Lisa: You know, I don't usually give second chances either. But you're different.
RAW: You're not.
Lisa: I know. I'm not here for a second chance.
RAW: Then what are you here for?
Lisa: I wanted to talk. I wanted to find out if you missed me.
RAW: Now you know.

The implication of her answered question was that she was free to go. I'm not a mean person, but I'd tried just about every other tactic to prod her to move on and nothing else came remotely close to working. I was growing impatient, and hiding it would have been counterproductive for both of us.

Lisa: Can we go to another room? This room has memories. I don't like being in this room.
RAW: So what else is new?
Lisa: I used to like this room. When we were together.
RAW: That's not what I'm talking about.
Lisa: Then what are you talking about?
RAW: If something feels uncomfortable, you leave it. It was a common pattern I noticed in your history.
Lisa: This coming from you? If I recall, the reason you gave for ending us was that you were “uncomfortable in this relationship.”
RAW: I was.
Lisa: And you left because you were uncomfortable, so who are you to lecture me?
RAW: We agreed up front that if either of us became uncomfortable that it would end. We both know that we are usually the instigators of our various breakups in times past, so in a way it was a race. I won.
Lisa: Oh, wow. You're right. You're the big winner here, Alex.
RAW: You said it yourself. If I hadn't ended it when I generally end these things, you would have ended it when you generally did. In fact, from what I recall, you almost left when I said I wanted kids, even though I never insinuated that I wanted them with you. You and I set down the ground rules together. It wasn't going to be serious and when the going got tough, we wouldn't tough it out.
Lisa: The going wasn't tough.
RAW: For you.
Lisa: Was I really that unbearable?
RAW: Not unbearable. Just more than I cared to deal with.
Lisa: Because I have issues. I guess I never should have told you about them.
RAW: You did tell me about them. Before we even got together.
Lisa: Then why did you leave because of them?! Why did you enter something you weren't even going to try?
RAW: First, our plan wasn't to try. Second, you told me about them, but you didn't tell me about their scope at the outset.
Lisa: So I shouldn't have told you that later on?
RAW: What you told me wasn't nearly as poignant as what you showed me.
Lisa: Because I showed you my sensitive side?
RAW: Because I spent three hours listening to you tell me how worthless you are and how you'll never amount to anything. Any time I tried to tell you that wasn't the case you picked a fight about it. That's three hours of my life I'm never getting back.
Lisa: Three hours? You've never wasted three hours before? You know, some people are strong enough to deal with emotional problems.
RAW: I know. I used to be one of them. And I can, it's not a matter of strength, it's a matter of energy. I'm not going to waste my time on a relationship that we both know isn't going anywhere. I don't have to.
Lisa: It's too bad I can't walk away from my problems when I am out of energy.
RAW: I guess I'm lucky. I can.
Lisa: You don't exactly have problems like I do...
RAW: I wasn't talking about my problems.
Lisa: Even when you're alone, they're there. When you're trying to have a good time, they're there. I'm not weak, Alex, I'm just overwhelmed. Maybe you can just ignore them and they'll go away, but I just can't do that...
RAW: I wasn't talking about my problems.
Lisa: It's not something I can turn off. I know you like to break everything down into choices, but sometimes you don't have a choice. Sometimes you are the way you are. What would you do if you had problems the way that people with my disease do? Walk away?
RAW: I wasn't talking about my problems. I didn't say that I could walk away from my problems. I said that I could walk away from yours, and I did.
Lisa: Because I'm a psycho?
RAW: Because you have problems. Problems I've dealt with before.
Lisa: Will you stop talking about your problems as if they're as overwhelming as mine?
RAW: The only one here talking about their problems is you. I was talking about loving people with the problems you have.
Lisa: Did you leave them, too?
RAW: Eventually.
Lisa: As quickly as you left me?
RAW: Sometimes. Sometimes not.
Lisa: Sometimes they weren't as bad as me?
RAW: Sometimes they were worse. Sometimes I didn't leave them at all. Rather, I stayed with them until the bitter end when they left me. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that holding the hand of someone with depression doesn't get you anywhere.
Lisa: It's all about you, huh?
RAW: Sorry, doesn't get anybody anywhere. If I could have left – or been left – with the impression that I'd done any good, I might look back on it differently. If after talking to you for three hours I'd been left with the impression that I'd done any good, it might have been a different matter entirely. Instead, the more I thought about it the more I realized that I didn't even need to be there. I could have just been at home, copying and pasting “I understand” ad infinum. But I wouldn't understand because whatever you have, and whatever they've had, I don't have it.
Lisa: Lucky to be you.
RAW: I'm really not in the mood for this. I've got problems, too, but they are not the fault of any disease. I don't have a crutch or an excuse. I've just got the problems that I've created over time. Problems that I'll deal with.
Lisa: Where are you going?
RAW: Downstairs. I'm thirsty.

She followed me down, as I expected she would. She also kept talking, as I knew she would. I shouldn't have even mentioned or admitted my problems. At the least, she would just ignore it. At the worst, she'd use it as a springboard for her own.

I dutifully listened, but refrained from saying “I understand” having just showed those cards. I tried pointing out some of the contradictions in what she was saying, but what was the point? At this point, it was her show.

Lisa: I'm not trying to convince you to get back together.
RAW: You mentioned that.
Lisa: I just want to make sure you know that. I just want to know if I'm so truly awful that you wouldn't give it another chance?

Her words would hurt more if I hadn't built up some numbness to them. It could be worse, I told myself. I could have to care. At least with her I knew before it was too late. She was open with me in a way that she claims not to be with many people, so I knew not to develop any feelings with her. That was one of the things that killed off the relationship so quickly. If I was emotionally immune, it was obviously going nowhere. The questions I generally have in the getting-to-know-eachother stage of a relationship did not entice me because I feared every last answer. She kept talking, but all I could think about was Cathy.

Lisa: No one is ever going to want me because I'm psychotic. Right?
RAW: Is there a correct answer to that question?
Lisa: You don't have to answer it. I know it's true. God, I don't want a relationship but I just don't know what else to do.
RAW: Don't get into a relationship?
Lisa: I want... the physical benefits of a relationship. I just don't think I'm ready for the real thing, you know?
RAW: Absolutely.
Lisa: Of course you do, you said from the start that you didn't want a relationship. With me, anyway.
RAW: Look, if you want a relationship, get in to one. If you don't, then don't get into one and find a guy who gives you whatever else you want. Just don't shoot out the lights and curse the dark.
Lisa: It's a choice, right?
RAW: Right.
Lisa: Hah!
RAW: Sorry, was I talking? My mistake. Continue.

Continue she did. When I would go too long without saying anything, she'd just find something shocking to try to get a reaction out of me. Just like when we were together. Nothing bothered her more than when I told her that nothing she does surprises me. She tried to make me angry or upset, but it doesn't work. My mind was still on Cathy.

Lisa: I've set myself up so that i can't be happy unless everything is perfect
RAW: Yeah, and that's your choice. Light. Bang bang. Dark.
Lisa: I always go back to thinking that if i hadn't blown my knee out, everything would be different.
RAW: Here we go again...
Lisa: I was happy then...
RAW: Did I say that out loud? Like it matters...
Lisa: I was athletic, intelligent, beautiful, muscular, strong, agile, fast. But i can never have that again. It's just starting to hit my family just how profoundly it affected me. I went from being everything i wanted to be, to feeling absolutely worthless. Literally.
RAW: To the extent you feel yourself worthless, there is little I can say that is productive.
Lisa: The doctor told me i couldn't play sports anymore and my world crashed and burned. Literally.
RAW: I'm sorry you placed your self-worth in your athleticism...
Lisa: It wasn't just that. I was stuck in a wheelchair, and on crutches, doped up. I couldn't do anything for myself. That's not easy for someone like me.
RAW: I can imagine that's difficult, and I'm sorry, but you can't live in the past and that was years ago...
Lisa: And it didn't help that my cat was murdered between the time that they told me i couldn't play sports and my surgery. And my grandmother...
RAW: Oh, sorry, spoke out of turn again.
Lisa: And i still can't let go of who i was. I was just a kid, but i loved life then. Even with all the bad shit that has happened to me. Sports vented all that for me. I played so hard i didn't have time to think about everything else. I was able to do anything. I was everything.
RAW: I'm sorry that you based your self-worth on your athleticism.
Lisa: It wasn't that. It was being strong, able-bodied and independent. It was being everything humans were meant to be.
RAW: I'm sorry that you base self-worth on athleticism. I'm not particularly athletic. Am I worthless by your gauge, then?
Lisa: It isn't good for me that i am still mainly attracted to people who are now, what i was then guys like that don't even notice girls like me. I had it. It was ripped away from me.
RAW: Lisa, I swear to God if we were having this conversation online I would just be cutting and pasting that I'm very sorry you based your self-worth on your athleticism.
Lisa: I'm not kidding when i say that there are times when I'd rather be dead, than live like this
to feel weak and old when I'm only 23.
RAW: Control C, Control V.

She didn't take note of my comment or it's accompanying finger movements of typing the keys I wish I could type to save myself the breath. She continued to talk about the injury for a little while. I'm not entirely unsympathetic. It's hard to imagine what I would be like if I couldn't write any more. But I don't base my self-esteem on that, and given that she didn't even mention the injury when we were together, something tells me her despair predates it significantly. Suddenly, she feels like talking about something else.

Lisa: Have you ever watched someone you love die, eaten away by cancer?
RAW: No.
Lisa: It is a slow and painful process, and that is exactly what i went through with myself, i had to sit and watch myself being eaten away by a disease i didn't know how to stop. Parts of me died a long time ago, and i fight now to stop it from eating away at the rest of me. Literally. Nothing can re-build what died, not my knees, not my soul.

Did I say something else? Never mind about that.

Lisa: It didn't just change my body. I did have to sit and watch my body change though, i watched muscle deteriorate. I went through a depression that makes how i feel now look like ecstasy. The drugs i was on killed my creativity, and i've never written as well since then, my grades slipped and I've never gotten back to where i was, where i picked up everything i read and heard without study. I think the painkillers affected my mind.

It's more than the painkillers. Either her problems pre-date her injury or they don't. Either way, she's broken. Broken not necessarily because of the injury or the chemical imbalance, but possibly of something else. Some overwhelming time in her life that she would not, or could not, recover from. I've had a few moments like that in my life and I've always managed to fight my way back. Watching her, and people like her, continually succumb to the defeat becomes a particularly excruciating chore.

Lisa: If it was just because my body isn't as good, i would be dead and buried. Not crying. Hell, being in a wheelchair kept me out of forensics in high school, not just sports. I'll be damned now if my parents have to bury me.
RAW: Lisa, you're 23. To the extent you believe your life is over and that you'll never be worth anything, that is a choice you've made.
Lisa: I've made my choice. I'm still alive, aren't I?

I'm reminded of Dante's Inferno. In one of the circles of Hell, there is a former proud general that lies face down in the mud proclaiming his greatness. All evidence to the contrary, he was great. Lisa, broken and resigned, takes pride in her strength and perseverance. All evidence to the contrary, she has persevered.

She rambles on longer while I periodically mention that it's late and I need to get going to bed. Since I leave it open-ended, she just continues as if I'd said nothing. Finally, I utter the words that have saved me Wednesdays before: “This conversation is over.”

And it is.

After she leaves, I walk upstairs and grab my cell phone.

Cathy: Hello?
RAW: Hi Cathy.
Cathy: Oh, hi.
RAW: How're you.
Cathy: I'm surviving. You?
RAW: I'm doing pretty good.

I don't tell her about the conversation with Lisa because she'd just get jealous or upset. She is, I found out late Sunday night, insecure.

Cathy: That's good.
RAW: What have you been up to?
Cathy: Just laying here alone, in the dark, wondering why I've always been so alone.

I shouldn't have asked that question. I should have been able to tell by the tone of her voice. Of course, when it comes to Cathy I should have seen a lot of things. I should have seen the signs I at least somewhat saw in Lisa. I should have seen that she was too excited when she was happy and too low when she was low. But I didn't, and Sunday night I found out that she was manic-depressive.

RAW: I... I see. Well, you're not alone cause you're talking to me.
Cathy: Yeah, I feel better now. I'm sorry, I just get this way sometimes. When I find someone I just get so scared that I'm going to lose them. I just don't feel that I'm worthy of anyone.

I should have noticed a lot of things, but I didn't. I tell her not to think about things that way, but she doesn't hear me and just continues. She doesn't quite have the stamina that Lisa does, and before long we're off the phone.

I try to think about the weekend and our fragments of normalcy together, but it doesn't hold. I can think of the great time we had, but the fact that I found out Sunday night that she cried on the four hour drive back to Dallas because she thought I hated her doesn't linger far from my mind.

When I get ready for bed, the questions come, as they have since Sunday night.

[Interlude]
[Part Three]