Some stupid life threatening illness made good on its threat last Tuesday. My head has been spinning since I found out. We hadn't seen each other since I found out about The Comedian four months ago (which wrecked me at the time, though with distance and perspective, I can't see things happening any other way), but the memories of a sweet, funny, endearing, and happy-despite-hardship young woman came flooding back immediately. I miss her now, more than I did when we broke up. She made a name (literally) for herself and built a career out of being a sexy badass clown (I know, one of these things is not like the other- she made it work), but I never knew that side of her, that other person she called Hollie. I just knew Tia, from Kansas City.
Monday, July 9, 2012
Addicts
Robert Palmer was sort of right about being addicted to love. If he was actually addicted to it, that's one thing- people can be addicted to all sorts of things, and that's not in question, so he was completely right. What I'm very ineloquently getting at, is that love should be a functional addiction. If you're with someone, and can go cold turkey for a week, guess what? You're not actually with someone. My Favorite Nancy once told me that I needed a woman who pines for me. I understood what she meant at the time, but now I feel what she meant. There has to be a certain level of addiction, the urge to get a fix at regular intervals. If you can't be together, you need to hear each other's voices. If you can't talk, then a text, or an IM, or a chat, or even a poke on Facebook (well... maybe not a poke).
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