Jerry an I have spent as much time together as school and work permit. We often communicate through e-mails that are frequently out of time with each other. In other words if we could we would IM each other but a lot of the time I am free when he isn't and the other way around so an old fashioned e-mail works fine.
Jerry has made an effort to define who I am to him and in a recent e-mail put it this way:
"You are tough. When I say that, I don't mean any disrespect I just mean you are Mr. Stiffupperlip. I feel like such a fool sitting here with tears in my eyes because we can't be together tonight or tomorrow night. You though, I know you don't have any tears, you never do Damon. I know it is not because you don't feel bad about it but you just never let them see you sweat, do you?"
"I say this all lovingly because you are really strong and I like that in you but I would also just like to know just once that your feelings overwhelm you now and then. You are like spiderman, you have powers that I don't even know about yet. The fingernails are always clean though I know you worked all day. You smell like peppermint even though you had a hamburger with onions moments before. You don't breathe hard when you run and often sit with that blank look on your face as if you had some secret you'd like to share but refuse to share with me."
Well I guess I have been told huh?
Growing up in a house with three younger brothers has done this to me you know. I was never told that I shouldn't let my feelings show simply because the boys would be confused. I took it upon myself to be the big brother. That has left me barren of external emotion like some autistic child with no ability to interact with other humans. I appologize for that. I do have feelings and often they do overwhelm me. I just have a thing about allowing them to affect others because I know they would. If I were to suddenly break into sobs, my brothers would be looking out the window for the three horsemen of the apocalypse. My sadness often comes out in anger more than in tears. When my father died, I drove off to a little cliff that I knew in L.A. and screamed to the top of my lungs never sheding a tear. I later had to explain why my throat was a little raspy. I told them I must have a cold or something.
Events don't seem to have an effect on me like that. If you wanted to make me cry, just look me in the face and tell me how much you hate me. First of all I think my question would be what have I done to make you feel this way toward me. I am an innocent in that respect. What I cannot understand often effects me far more than something like a death that is not unique to just me.
I miss my dad very much and I have had my moments of sorrow but never in a place where I would be found out. I miss Jerry when I can't see him but I know that it doesn't change how I feel about him or how he feels about me and therefore I am not sad about not having time with him, just frustrated.
On the other issues, I am a freak about having dirty hands. My mom made me that way, blame her. I am also a freak about bad breath because I had a piano teacher who's breath could have killed an elephant. If I have onions on my hamburger I have also got my breath mints with me or the onions have to be skipped that day. But I will still make sure I have had a breath mint before I put my face in yours.
So I concede, I am perfect especially if it means that I will never be seen blubbering in public with bad breath and dirty fingernails. That would just be disgusting.
As for Jerry. I don't mind the tears as long as he continues to smell like grape lolipops and keeps his fingernails clean. And he does.
I still have not figured out where the grape lolipop fragrance comes from. I have never seen him with a lolipop but I was with him when he purchased a fingernail brush at the Rite-Aid. Sort of reminds me of the movie "MIchael" with John Travolta as an angel who claimed he always smelled like fresh-baked cookies. I hear all angels do but maybe there are a few who smell like grape lolipops.