Take one is the fury, take two shall be the grace. And I’m talking memoirIZATION of Original Babe.
Original Babe
–the first person you ever called babe in a romantic or otherwise intimate sense, consensual
Original Babe knows my peace friend. Of all the crap between us and our long, long ago breakup, we put most of it to bed over emails lightly exchanged over the last few years. Sweet funny memories of things we heard sitting at out burrito joints or Chinese lunch spots. –there are no substitutions
About Spring 2024, I wrote to OB from my desert writing recovery desk. I began letting out heat of my fall. Losing the home, something else I don’t recall. Just so much of it. I was mindful not to make it a tome. But I didn’t hear back and I let it ride. Because one’s Original Babe is not responsible for me!
Something funny crossed my path maybe six months later, probably a dark movie he showed me from his video store job in Athens and my unbearable weakness for dark things (that was then, Scorched Peaches is now).
So I emailed again! HEY! And he typed hey you back…you know…I didn’t know what to say after our last exchange. Should I be worried about you?
I think I waited more than a year after that to drop the news that I had been sexually assaulted in this lifetime. This came shortly after I dropped a fully prepped sex memoir outline. My guts in knots over knowing I had to exit the darkness of where Original Babe and I began — then I dropped — to make a life. All these emails…(part two shall be the grace of those exchanges) all we had to do was go for a walk. But I wasn’t there.
WhatEVES.
I didn’t hear back. What is he supposed to say??????? These are not clear pathways. this is UGH communication. Men are abused. They have their own war of male sexes clogging up their ecosystem. Now here come the women, their exs and their SA admittance. What a rotten state fair! I hope my fragile peace friend cleanse process and whatever comes from building the mystery plank of (sexual) peace friendship in Decatur helps us — helps us all — dance down AND in the power of mystery. That unknown power when silence takes over and things seem lighter again. HEY! you might have an Original Babe.
And he doesn’t know what to say either.
Scorched Fury has Options
Look for the one (path) with the little flags up there
~New Kind of Neighborhood, Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers
I made a PAINFUL mistake from GUILT about two years after our ancient breakup. Blurting out my ugliness. That harsh did soften, totally cordial and warm seeing each other around, drinking our pints. And here I am again on his front BLOG porch relying on natural fury of a man NOW ASKING it be turned and walked onto a mystery road, a TURN in the war of the sexes.
Meaning if we were still together, and I told him? What I’m saying in this video? The one down there with whole hearted voice not a BLURT? not a GUILT?
…he’d probably go old school with a baseball bat. How “men take care of things” and yet…other options. Picking up his guitar. Meditating a run. Going into my peace friend‘s pub and asking to signup on the NON-EXISTENT signup form for peace friendship, like a softball pick up tournament.
Original Babe, this man we once knew as generous helped our cat down from the neighbors’ tree. When he CORRECTED me the pub never had grill cooks, only LINE cooks, I told him he didn’t know his Original Babe story! He pivoted; he agreed. That he didn’t know what he didn’t know. About your story. And now we know the direction of MJA’s alt fury…(warning: CORRECTION!)
We have to WANT to know. I sure hope the boys in their gorgeous community pub want to know because THAT’S what a pub of the true third place is built for – real life convo imbibing the sad AND IMAGINING THE NEW.
If you can’t support me, support Nuci’s Space in Athens – do it for Alex. No memoirIZATION because our grill cook brother is gone. By his own hand.
We don’t have to live with tough relational things without relieving the tension…that’s peace friend cleansing. peace friend? do this with me.
(((A)))
