“How long was that, anyway?”

“Three years. I was with him for three years, just about.”

“Three years, huh. I guess that seems about right. Whatever it was, I was there the whole time. I read your blog.”

“You did.”

“I signed on so I could get it by email. I used some name I didn’t think you’d know is me.”

“No, I’d not have known. A lot of people are subbed. I’d have had no idea… you could have been anyone.”

“Yeah. And there were a few times I wanted to leave you a comment… baaad. But I thought, better not. I thought you might figure out it was me.”

“I see. And yeah. If you’d have commented I am sure I’d have figured it out. Your big mouth and its opinion? I’d have known immediately.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured so I didn’t do it. Anyway, P, I can’t tell you how much reading that blog of yours helped me. It got me through some dark times, I’ll tell you that. Very dark.”

“That’s hard to believe. I mean, I wrote about sex the whole time. The sex I was having. I can’t see how that could have done you any good. If it were me reading about you, it would have driven me insane.”

“Well, yeah you did write about sex. But that’s just you, P. It’s just part of who you are. That’s like the first thing… anyone who gets to know you is going to find out you have sex. In fact, that’s like the first thing they find out besides you have dimples. And shiny hair,” he said with a chuckle because it’s an old joke.

“And it’s the last thing they find out too. Let’s face it, P. You may not have sex with that many people but when you find someone you like, you waste no time. And I know that about you, so I could deal with that. I got used to it, I guess you could say.”

He got real quiet.

“What?”

“I was just thinking. And you did write about sex quite a bit, but it’s not the only thing you wrote about. You wrote about all kinds of things.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Some of the stuff you write is crazy. I’d read some of the crap you’d put on that blog and I just couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t understand a word you were saying and I’d laugh about it to. I’d wonder what the hell you could be thinking to write whatever it is you’d written.”

I laughed.

“And there were times I’d want to talk to you. You know. Sometimes I wanted to argue something with you. I got pissed off at something you wrote a couple times. Or other times you just made me laugh. Sometimes you made me laugh so hard I nearly cried and I really appreciated that. I needed a laugh back then. And I would have liked to say something at those times too, but I didn’t. I knew I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Like I said. I was not going to mess you up. And I’d want to write you so bad, too. But I just stuck. I just held off and eventually it passed. You leave her alone. You stay away from Elsa.” He laughed. “That’s what I told myself. And I would. And you were having a hard time too, you know. You were having a hard time, all the time. You were really suffering… a lot. A good amount of the time, you were suffering and I was glad you were.”

“Whaaaaat?”

“Well, I’m sorry but it’s true. It made me feel better when you were having a hard time. You were going through all that with your daughter. And whatever else happened to you. Sometimes, the way you write it was hard to tell exactly what was happening with you. So I would try to guess what was happening. And sometimes I thought I could guess but other times I had no idea what was going on. But I knew you were suffering, that’s for sure. And not just your jokes. Reading about you suffering helped me as well.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because I was struggling too. And I’d read your blog and I could see you were in the shit. I may not know exactly what shit you’re in, but I knew you were in the shit and I was in the shit as well.” He laughed. “And I’d think, ol’ P! She’s in the shit again! She’s back in it, and so am I. Oh well. I guess we’re both in the shit…”

I laughed.

“Well I’m sorry but it did help me. No one likes to be in the shit and think they’re the only one. You want to know there are others who are in the shit as well. You want some company. Sometimes you neeeed some company. So that’s what you were. Or what you blog was. You kept me good company when I was in the shit, P. And I thanked God for you.”

“Oh, okay.

“I’d come home after another bad day and sign on the computer. Let’s see what happened to P today because something always did. You were constantly having problems. Everyday something else went wrong with you. And it’s not like you let it stop you because you never did. You may have been in the shit but you never quit. You just kept going. You just kept going through shit and more shit and more shit after that. You kept going and this helped me too. I said to myself, hey. You may be in the shit but so is P. And if she can keep going… and she’s got those little kids, too. Keep that in mind. So if she can get up each day and do it, surely you can. So stop your whining and just get through what you have to get through. You know. Just get through another day…”

“Oh. Okay, that makes sense. I am really glad you could hitchhike like that.”

“Yeah, hitchhike. That’s what I did.”

“Well I’m glad. And I am sorry I wasn’t there when you were having a bad time, anyway. I feel like I should have been.”

“Well you couldn’t be there, P. If you could have, you would have. But your blog was there and I can’t tell you how many times I thanked God for it. I really did. I am so glad you’re a public person. If you weren’t there I don’t know what I’d have done or how I’d have made it without all the cheer you gave me. You kept me cheered up with that blog. You cheered me up almost every day, when I badly needed it. And had nowhere else to go and I will always be grateful.”

skip to 8th House Scorpio Moon Wigs Out

In what strange places have you found solace when things have been bleak?

~~
pictured - Pluto, Agostino Carracci, 1557