Philadelphia, PA • November 25, 1992 • فيزا
Good evening, beloved book of my secrets. Six hours of flight and a rental bike ride later (I rented a jaw-dropping gorgeous, purple Suzuki Titan T500 and I want you to know it), 5pm on the clock, I'm finally at the same hotel the Alice gang is. I've booked two rooms under my name, one for myself and one for Mariam (I'll call her Mimi from this point on because it sounds sweeter), I've paid for both of 'em, because I'm a generous person and I'm glad that my friend is being in this madness with me when she could've easily given zero fucks and been in the comfort of her home instead... and while she's now in her room sleeping and snoring, I'm in mine (we got different rooms because her parents told her that staying in the same room as a friend is haram, bless her) getting all kinds of anxious and apprehensive. You would naturally think that I should be bouncing off the walls because I'm finally breathing the same air as my ex boyfriend, my best friend Bessie and my flock of adorable, all colourful and sweet sweet, tiny lovebirds ... but I'll have to prove you wrong and tell you that I'm on the brink of a full fledged panic attack. And the only two things reassuring me and keeping me the closest to sane me now are Bessie's presence and friendship, and the fact that my little babies are all alive, healthy and well fed.
The first thing I did, once I arrived here and checked in for Mimi and I, was meet Bessie in her room and collect the bubbas... and after we chit chatted for about five minutes, mostly about Stone Gossard because we are women with priorities, I headed to my room, sat down at the desk, and fed all of my twelve adoptive, tiny tiny, scarcely plumaged babies. One by one. With a syringe without a needle, heart eyes, and lots of love and patience. Now some of the babies are sleeping, some of them are playing hide and seek around my room with Cock Soup, and my heart is swelling with pride and joy, but it's also near damn exploding in my chest at the same time... because I've tried to call Sean thrice within the last quarter of an hour, and so far there wasn't one instance in which he picked up the damn phone and spoke a single word to me. Bessie told me not to worry that much about him as he's been pulling an elusive, all locked in his room for two whole days in a row, but I'm still worried. In the way that I know he's alright, just pulling a standard Sean for the sake of it, but that I don't know how my presence here tonight is going to find him, and that fucking gives me the worst anxiety known to mankind. I mean, he thinks I'm in Seattle, working and studying and doing all those things I falsely made him believe would've kept me away from him for at least one more week... and honestly, I don't know how he's going to react to having been lied to. Again. For a fucking nose job that I probably don't even need and that he wouldn't endorse of at all, out of all the reasons. I complain about him and his ways with me, because they're quite questionable, offish, and we will have to agree on that... but what makes my ways with him any better, huh? Why have I lied to him and said I couldn't go meet him because I was too busy tryna get a nose job behind his back? I know I don't need his permission to do my shit and he doesn't need my permission to do his shit either, we don't think we own one another, and that's what's amazing in our relationship. We are mutually, hundred percent free to do whatever we want with ourselves, but we still hold accountability towards eachother because our love is true... but the point is, did I really have to lie? Did I really have to lie to and have secrets with a guy who loves me so much, he literally made me dump him when I refused to go meet him as urgently as he would've wanted me to? As little as just a week ago? What guilts does this guy carry, if at the end of the day, I've forgiven him for all his wrongdoings a while back? And he too knows it ?
I don't know. The fuck should I know, after all. I don't even happen to know whether to be happy or sad now, hyped or hopeless, I don't know what should I do in this moment in time, either ... so I suppose I'll make myself slightly more presentable in the perspective of our meetup of later tonight. Inshallah I find him, to begin with. Inshallah he gets out of his goddamned room before it's showtime... because yeah, Bessie told me that Alice in Chains is playing a show at the Trocadero Theatre tonight. And inshallah he doesn't throw the makeup case that I'm pulling out of my bag in my face again, too, before or after the gig. Haha. He's playing a show tonight, and I have an Alice in Chains all access 'staff' pass in my suitcase, the same one that Sean got me when we were still together and touring like fucking smitten lovebirds... should I attend, or just fucking stay here in my room and perhaps get the rest I'd so deserve? Asking that because, first and foremost, I mean no joke when I say I don't know what the fuck I should do with myself tonight. And secondly, because I'm so tired by all that travelling through time zones that I'm not even sure I remember my first given name anymore. If I could only hear it once by the man I love with every ounce of my being, I'd remember it ... and I'd probably melt in a puddle right at his feet, because I bloody love the way he says my name. But he's out of reach, I haven't heard his voice since last night, so nevermind.
