Am I a souvenir? July 17, 1985

 

I should have figured it out for myself. After all, Hank pointed it out to me some years ago when I introduced him to my then-girlfriend, Suzanne.

He claimed I always dated the same kind of woman. He meant at the time women that looked similar since Suzanne strongly resembled my ex-wife, Louise.

In truth, I tend to go for the same type of women, who may or may not look alike, but are plagued by the same psychology, deep down fundamental features to which I am inextricably drawn. Flawed women, who need to be rescued, and I need to play the role of white knight and come to their aid, and who would ultimately reject me.

Or more to the point, I would find a way to get them to reject me.

I rarely see this in advance and so cannot detour around what is clearly a mine field full of potential danger.

The warning signs are always clear, women like Louise or Suzanne or even Fran, who tie me up inside, twisting me into shapes they desire until I wake up at one point, realize what has happed to be and rebel.

Safire is Louise multiplied several times, smarter than Louise, but with the same ability to manipulate, passive aggressive to a fault, so that ultimately in the end, I think I’m the person responsible for the bad things that happen, when I’m not always so.

Safire is so much like Louise in the more subtle ways, I’m shocked I didn’t see it before, and yet it explains my intense attraction (since I never got over Louise in the first place, my first true love and my first love gone bad).

They both have similar history, having gone through the same sexual meat grinder, starting out as “popular” girls in high school, graduating to some aspect of the sex trade, eventually marrying to try to undo the bad reputation they earned as strippers and later worse.

Both tend to pick men they think will save them only to find those men to be as bad or worse as the men they are trying to escape. Both have become harden by their experiences, needing a lot to get passed the shell they’ve built to keep themselves from being hurt.

Both change lovers like light bulbs, seeking a new one when the previous one burns out.

This might be said of the other women with whom I’ve had a serious relationship, Suzanne and Fran, but not so blatantly obvious.

Safire and Louise have other more superficial similarities, such as their attachments to trinkets that remind them of places they’ve been and people they’ve been with, from knick-knacks to bumper stickers. Louise has a sticker from every state she’s ever passed through from the time she was a little girl. Safire has a collection of similar souvenirs, both connecting these things to special people they were with when they first collected them.

Safire showed me a collection of commemorative spoons always exactly the same as a set Louise has, and oddly, both women lived in trailers.

Deeper down, both women have the habit of manipulating themselves into unfortunate situations, from which they struggle to find a solution.

Safire no longer lives in a house because her husband is in Baltimore seeking to find a new one for them to live in. Louise abandoned her apartment to live with a man on a camp ground, only to have him abandon her. She later got burned out of the apartment she found, and ultimately settled in a trailer park, from which she hopes to be rescued soon.

All this hit me all of a sudden, just at a point when I found myself ready to plunge into a possible new relationship with Safire, a stunning revelation that floored me, and reminded me again of Pauly’s Tarot reading which heavily suggested trouble lay ahead.

Maybe I’ve finally seen the warning signs and may still have time to take a detour before I end up in someone else’s souvenir collection.


1985 Menu


email to Al Sullivan

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

An old nemesis December 11, 1985

Image
    Surisky hated me from early on in grammar school, although “hate” may be too strong a word to describe his reaction to me. I was simply available to him for abuse, Third grade was pivotal for both of us. Prior to that, we were simply feeling our way through Catholic School routine, emerging eventually as whole personalities from the muck of early childhood. He came across as a thug, trying to convey the image of a tough guy. He wore a leather jacket and spiked boots, and snuck into see James Dean movies. Third grade was tough on everybody, including the teachers, who considered us the worst class in the history of the school – even in the safe grades of Kindergarten, First and Second. Two of the three nuns retired after passing us on. But it was in the third grade that we began to work our magic, driving even the stout-hearted nuns crazy. Later, the nuns tried to break our spirit. But we fully represented our age and had the full impact of the 1960s behind us. So,
Read more

Pauly leaves Passaic for the final time July 24, 1985

Image
    Pauly is leaving Passaic again. This comes after two years of us rubbing shoulders after he had been cast out of paradise in Towaco, after his goddess, Jane, went and married that man Pauly calls “a bum.” This has been a tough two years, filled with Pauly’s typical manipulation, his usual shaping of reality to his own needs often at other people’s (mine) expense. When Pauly first came I had Fran’s cultist brother as a temporary guest and Pauly spent most of his time trying to push me into getting that guest out. A few months later – in November – Fran got the ax from her ex and changed her mind about moving in with me after I had committed the spare room to Pauly. He assumed she meant more to me than he did and was already packing when I told Fran no. She had no place to go except for her father’s house, a father she had a love/hate relationship with, and she held it against me, even though we continued to see each other romantically. Pauly being Pauly drove me out of
Read more

The clock is ticking July 18, 1985

Image
  We’re talking love here – silly fictional love with all the connotations of disaster. I seem to be on the meat chopping block with Safire looking for qualities in me that are lacking in her husband. The fact that there is a husband in the first place greatly disturbs me. All this said, I’m uncertain as to why I haven’t ended this already, except to know she is too much like my ex-wife to pass up without a closer examination. Even the way she thinks: slow, methodical, going from point A to point B. It has only been a week since she blurted out drunk that she wanted me in bed. It seems like much longer. And she hints of something more permanent, suggesting that I might fill in for her husband for a much longer duration. The night before last she suggested I come see her in her trailer, as if she is legally separated from her husband, when in fact she is supposed to be biding time until he finds them both a place to live in Baltimore. This is the same kind of smoke and mir
Read more