When I thought up the Passion Project as you can imagine I was in my usual state of drunkenness-Where everything that pops into my head seems like a really good idea. OOOOOH, LET’s DO THIS!!!

So I shared the idea with my bestie, who was also in that same state and he responded with Hear, Hear.

He really talks like that.

Which is the reason we are friends.

As a part of the interview I advised all participants that I could handle whatever they wrote.

Cause I’m tough.

Cause in most cases it was long ago.

Cause it didn’t mean anything.

Most of the responses I have received were like hot cups of chamomile tea. Warm and soothing, reminiscent.

The one I was concerned about was not tea.

It turned out to be a cold glass of vodka laced with arsenic.

After I read it I felt like I died a little.

I’m so emotional, I cried.

Geez, I cry a lot.

But I seem to cry a lot when it has anything to do with Kane.

Oh yeah, Kane did an interview for me and he was very nonchalant about it.

He is nonchalant about everything.

The puzzling part was that everyone else, so far, even if their responses were short, relished the moments we used to have. Some remember actual sessions, some remembered dates, it was quite flattering, especially from the people I have not seen or talked to in 15 years.

But Kane.

It wouldn’t have been right, if it had been right.

Everything he does always has to torture me just a little bit.

I told all the participants to use false names so I won’t tell you which one was his directly…

But all the questions about me could have been about an air freshener, or a dog collar or an old scab he had on his foot in tenth grade.

Life less.

No passion whatsoever.

As a matter of fact he didn’t exactly remember the last time we had sex and was off by 5 years.

5 years!!!

The man I love, doesn’t know for sure when the last time was that he stuck his dick in me.

Sickening.

But the part that through me for a loop was how descriptive he was with his ideal one night stand.

The fucker wrote a short story about it!

So for me, he writes, Eh, I know her, and for the fantasy brewing in his head he writes Pulitzer material.

Mind you I talk to him on occasion- sometimes he says things like, Pixie, I wonder what it would be like to sleep next to you now.

Pixie, when I come visit, you need to wear a tee-shirt with my name on it to show the world you are my property, Pixie you can call me, anytime day or night, Pixie I love the pictures that you send to my phone….

But when given the opportunity, to say something, ANYTHING about our relationship he says WE WERE.

But when given the opportunity, to say something, ANYTHING about our sex life he says, I DUNNO.

As always with him I am utterly confused. I want to say my obsession is unhealthy. I want to completely give up. I want to say its my fault for being a horrible girlfriend, but it’s been nearly twenty years ago, if you still hate me-

Then

Why

Lead

Me

On?

I told him that I would not change what he wrote because of the wrong last sex year. It was his truth so it was staying as is.

What he doesn’t realize is that everyone else in that project, with the exception of the bestie is someone I TAGGED because I was not getting ENOUGH affection from HIM in the first place.

I Should not have done this. Ignorance is bliss. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, too late. Its just an interview, right?

Here we are, again.