2/25/2002

Third Time's a Charm? What am I? Some kind of injured man magnet? I don't have a lot of experience with human weakness. I struggle with it in myself everyday and try to make the marvel-ush Maggie appear during important social events. Of course, I consider a trip to the depanneur an important social event. Let's just say I'm always trying to put my best foot forward. I have little down time, and what down time I have *can* be reflective time, sad, time, even self-pity crying jag times. But, when you think of me, well, you don't think "frail" or "damaged", but relaxed *and* ready to pounce at any light reflecting off the wall. My first encounter with an injured man was just a couple of months after I split with my boyfreind of 11 years (girls! make him give you a ring fer chrissakes!). He was a smart older guy and he was marvelous in bed...marvelous. He called me all the time and then he ... stopped. I couldn't figure out why. When he finally surfaced again, he told me that he was diagnosed as manic depressive. He was the most charming person for a few weeks and then splat! he was down and out and incapacitated. We didn't see each other again. My second encounter was with a work acquaintance--a European guy affiliated with Softimage--who got to know me through emails that I would send to clients on our public product discussion lists. Being a writer, I guess eloquence just make me seem cuter or something. Anyway, he started emailing me and we corresponded and I investigated him through mutual acquaintances on the other side of the pond. We had great exchanges. And then he sent me this email that was full of him and his depression. How he wasn't sure if he could love anyone, be friends with anyone, how I reminded him of his last true love who dumped him. Gott in himmell! I stopped corresponding with him. The third time happened 30 minutes ago, when a guy I had met through work and who I had been corresponding with primarily through email *just* told me that he had a burn out recently and was incapicated for four months. He's not an exciting person, but he's a nice person who loves books and films. Why did he have to tell me that? I'm just *not* going handle this well, am I?

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