The End of the Beginning, Part Ten
05 September 2007 at 2:38 pm

So I responded, in typical Morgan fashion, with prose more than an actual response.

7/16 Morgan to Johnny
"This is it," I told myself on Friday night. "You have a weekend away and you are not allowed to think about him, not once, don't talk about it to anybody, just get the fuck over it." Four hours, several martinis and two bottles of wine and a joint later, my friends were begging me to shut up and ready to declare me certifiably batty, so I locked myself in the office and fell off my chair a few times trying to type as the tiny part of me that is always sober screamed, "Don't send!" No wait, that was my friend Michelle banging on the door. "Fuck you, voice of sobriety and reason!" I responded. "At the very least, this'll scare him off." Fucking fuck fuck. And I did NOT reread the emails, I have incredible will power when maintaining my illusion of dignity is involved, so take them with your advised grain of salt...I'm not saying I didn't mean whatever the hell I said, I'm saying I have no idea what was said. Respond as you see fit when you're done with the metaphorical pigs...that sounds naughty.

My flight leaves in five hours and a lot has changed with this weekend home. Does that happen to you, when you go back to where you're from and as much as you've changed, everything is the same, and somehow that is enough to make terrifying decisions possible? OH GOD, I Just found what I wrote (and blessedly didn't send) when I got home Saturday night...if you're wondering where the dirty mind went, it's hidden well within the depths of this machine. This is so embarrassing. I have a very astute sense of shame and absolutely no internal censor. It's a miserable combination.

Morgan

The fact that he was letting me throw all sorts of crazy at him and either ignoring it, not noticing it, or accepting it, but was still interested should have been yet another red flag. At this point, I was being more and more blatantly honest, but I don't think he quite realized it.

7/16 Johnny to Morgan
I am finding it very hard to get to the bottom of you, Miss B---. I gather that you like to tease. Just to let me know that what you are saying is not everything you are thinking. That, for me, is one of the things that sets you apart. Looking back, it is probably why I couldn't leave you alone when we met. I loved sitting and talking to you that night, and as I said at the time, I didn't think that a kiss would have been reciprocated.

Anyway, I hope you realise that one day soon, you are going to let your guard down and I may start getting to know the real Morgan B---.

Johnny.X

There's a part in a Libertines song in which there's a guitar solo and Pete Doherty sings this: "I get along just singing my song/People tell me I'm wrong/Fuck 'em!" That was kind of my philosophy at this point.

7/16 Morgan to Johnny
Okay, rereading:

Christ, did I send that email twice? I was so far gone. AH, how many fucking emails did I send? Whyyyyyyy? Well, I meant all of it. I try to give an air that I don't take anything seriously, but everything I say is genuine. I won't take anything back, but if rejected, I will let people assume I was only kidding and then go back to my house and cry.

What I'm saying is, I want to see you again ...that our situation doesn't have to be as improbable as a rational person might think. I'm the person among those close to me who doesn't make mistakes, or at least who doesn't make uneducated decisions and makes it work against the odds, and I'm willing to give up that reputation and my life for a little while (hours? days? weeks?) to see you one more time�just to see maybe what could happen. Don't I owe this to myself? I live a life of no regrets, not because I consciously choose not to regret my actions but because I take chances the average person wouldn't.

Morgan

There's a part in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes where Jane Russell purrs coquettishly (as if there is any other way to purr), "You idiot." That was kind of my mantra at this point.

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About me
Hi. Morgan, 27, of Santa Barbara, CA. I am a hypocritical admirer of rhetoric (when it is my own) and an observer of literary trends. A secret: I don't take anything very seriously, and that includes myself.