Lost In The Attic

There are many things you find in the attic when you are trying to organize something that looks like it was hit with an atomic blast. But you do find things. That is at least one of the reasons I'm trying to organize the attic, among other, more mundane reasons. Valerie's speech, her voice is different now... aphasia plays cruel games when you are searching for your wife's voice...it is a constant search and an always near anticipation for the song of your spouse's love and affection. Val did say my name on Valentine's day this year.. (2013)it was expressed in a sort of searching way, like Guy? Guy? where are you?

This letter was written to me by Valerie back in 1994. I found it in the attic and stuffed it in my pocket to read when I was done today's toil in the attic.

I think I remember reading this letter. What I do know for sure, is this is how she and I were... we loved hating that we were falling in love....we fell into each others soul resisting, and laughing all the way. I could say more, maybe later, Val's letter will suffice for now..

March 22, 1994


Dear Guy:

I hate you because:

I'm going'to the theater tonight with wonderfully neurotic, New
Age, upper West Side friends who will amuse and challenge me, to
see the first theatrical production done by Disney on Broadway,
in a theater that underwent a multi-million dollar renovation to
house a sweet and sentimental fable/morality play that I adore;
I'd rather watch Letterman with you.

I'm in love with Bill. I have been for a very long time.
I know he would return the affection if we'd been born in the same
century. The sonnets that you touched touched me a little
deeper. Philadelphia, Einstein, Dickens.Yeah, them too. It sucks.


I'm a strong person; I take care of myself and my family as best
I can. I'm independent and as responsible as possible without
being tedious. You let me be weak, angry and sad sometimes.
You bastard.

You made room in your house for me. "My Food"
is in "Your Fridge".  I can make the coffee while you
make the breakfast pizza.
I feel like Robin in the Bat Cave, Batman.
Lt. Arurra  (phonetically speaking) on the bridge with Kirk.
I've become your damn side-kick!

Worst of all, the thing I didn't want to ever happen, the thing
that shows how little self-respect I have left, exposes the
death of my reserve and the end of my resistance, the one action
I promised myself would not become a reaction - I'VE WRITTEN YOU
A LETTER. Yes, I can't think of a way to rationalize it into a note, missive. It's a fn letter. So, now I'm just exactly like "-------", aren't I? Happy? You would be. What color are her eyes? How would she have phrased this? More direct? More poetic? More in line with the cosmos? See what you've done. I'm arguing with you? And you're not here. I'm
ranting at a screen in anticipation of the face you'd make. I
hate you, Gaetano. I mean it. Don't smile, you bastard. stop
it right now. Oh, shit! I'm outahere.


Valerie