GIRL 96 ~ FEMINAZI GIRL
She was so famous that she made me sign a contract that no one would ever be able to tell who she was from my journal description of her.
Up to this point, I've blurred identities and intentionally misstated details to disguise identities of the women I dated. The message was not so much objective truth as it was my perception of it.
So I agreed to the terms that she demanded. It wasn't her career that interested me, it was the woman as a person. She was a deeply fascinating personality, with more twists and turns than a suspense novel. Apparently she thought the same of me. She'd read a lot of the online journal, back when it was public and associated with my name. It made her want me, and it also made her want to collaborate with me on a book project.
I had an eerie sense of her all through the time when we were talking to each other. There were ways in which I thought I was talking to my twin, because there were so many odd things about her that were mirrored in me. In other ways, she reminded me of Girl Zero. As I demonstrated with Girl 93, Israeli Air Force Girl, the physical resemblance to Girl Zero was bad enough, but Girl 93 didn't psychologically resemble Girl Zero much. But Girl 96, while she didn't look anything like Girl Zero, had many, if not all, of the personality traits that attracted me to Girl Zero in the first place. It was at once a Push Me-Pull You struggle with her.
I'm not sure if her issues with me outweighed mine with her. Between us there was a lot of darkness and anger and psychosexual telepathy, and none of it could be explained.
I wondered if we had been connected in a past life, and if so, how. It made less difference to me because of one main reason - the darkness I'd felt with Israeli Air Force Girl and Feminazi Girl, though they signified the potential of a deep relationship, also meant the possibility of an agonizing ending to a relationship. Either I had become paranoid, or clairvoyant in the ability to predict the future.
I was sorry to see her go. It was like waving good-bye to a part of myself.
She was so famous that she made me sign a contract that no one would ever be able to tell who she was from my journal description of her.
Up to this point, I've blurred identities and intentionally misstated details to disguise identities of the women I dated. The message was not so much objective truth as it was my perception of it.
So I agreed to the terms that she demanded. It wasn't her career that interested me, it was the woman as a person. She was a deeply fascinating personality, with more twists and turns than a suspense novel. Apparently she thought the same of me. She'd read a lot of the online journal, back when it was public and associated with my name. It made her want me, and it also made her want to collaborate with me on a book project.
I had an eerie sense of her all through the time when we were talking to each other. There were ways in which I thought I was talking to my twin, because there were so many odd things about her that were mirrored in me. In other ways, she reminded me of Girl Zero. As I demonstrated with Girl 93, Israeli Air Force Girl, the physical resemblance to Girl Zero was bad enough, but Girl 93 didn't psychologically resemble Girl Zero much. But Girl 96, while she didn't look anything like Girl Zero, had many, if not all, of the personality traits that attracted me to Girl Zero in the first place. It was at once a Push Me-Pull You struggle with her.
I'm not sure if her issues with me outweighed mine with her. Between us there was a lot of darkness and anger and psychosexual telepathy, and none of it could be explained.
I wondered if we had been connected in a past life, and if so, how. It made less difference to me because of one main reason - the darkness I'd felt with Israeli Air Force Girl and Feminazi Girl, though they signified the potential of a deep relationship, also meant the possibility of an agonizing ending to a relationship. Either I had become paranoid, or clairvoyant in the ability to predict the future.
I was sorry to see her go. It was like waving good-bye to a part of myself.