The California Central Valley–a place thirsty for water, a place that has been sated by the north’s seemingly endless supply of the life-giving liquid.

She thinks she’s bad and dirty and I wish there was/were some way I could take her burden from her.  I would take the problem in and simply absolve it because there is nothing wrong.  I want to just hug her and tell her she’s alright and there’s nothing wrong with her and have her believe me.  she says sometimes she feels so disgusting for some of the things she’s done.  Sometimes she feels that even if she peeled all her skin off she still wouldn’t be clean.  She says she and Arthur Dimmsdale have a lot in common.  She tries to scourge herself as

approx 5pm

Dimmsdale did.  I just wish there was something, anything I could do.  I’ll just continue to be a friend to her and hope she my presence.

Carmel is great, yea.

Cut my hair yesterday.  It’s quite short but it does look pretty good.  Erica asked me at work last night why I cut my hair.  She knows it has a lot to do with her.  But she probably thinks it looks stupid.  Oh hell, I don’t care.  Juree’s been calling her and telling her she loves her.  So I don’t know, still, where I fit in.  Erica still hasn’t finished things up with Juree because she still loves her quite a bit.  She told me last summer was the best time of her life.  She spent all her time with Juree.  They’d sped the night at eachother’s houses, go to work together, go out at night together then spend the night at eachother’s houses again.  I’m so jealous of the time.  But there’s nothing I can do.  I like to hear about the good times she’s had but I feel like I could never make as much of an impression.  She will never be as in love as she was that first time.  I can never be a great part of her life.  I think she should finish things off with Juree because in the mean time she’s with me and I’m getting pulled deeper and deeper into a trap, spell, something like that.  Pink Floyd is going through my head.  I want to badly to help her.  She thinks if her father found out about her, he’d die.  She doesn’t want him to think he failed with yet another child.  The others are dead, in jail, etc.  She said she can blame him, if she wanted to, for the way she is because he raised her like a boy.  Her mother told her that homosexuality is like a demon plaguing your soul.  She thinks she’s going to burn in hell.  I told her that God is love and no matter what way you love, it’s all right.  Be her God is wrathful and scary.  She’s afraid to blaspheme against Him because that is the only sin that can’t be forgiven.  So she won’t renounce Him but she has to go through the torture of being a sinner.  She tries to repent by injuring herself.  I told her she only had to admit but she says she can’t ask forgiveness and say she’ll never to it again.  Sh knows that if she denied her feelings it would only make things worse.  That is one good step.  Shannon was right, she is a lot more fucked up than either one of us thought.  She hides it well, and she says she has come out fairly sane, considering–that’s true.

I’m at the Carmel beach.  The moist air is making the paper sticky.  The sun is going down in the west and I can only wish my honey was here with me.  Just hugging her warms me.  I don’t think I like what goes on inside her head but only because I wish she wasn’t so troubled.  I want to take her away from all the problems and just take care of her.  But I do have to think of myself.  Goodbye sun, will I ever see you again?

Tags: Diary, sexy?, threesome

Categories: Diary

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