Tuesday, June 11, 2024

She is a storm July 7, 2014

  

After more two years, I can’t even pretend to know what goes on inside her head.

I can make guesses (educated or otherwise), but what she actually thinks is impossible to get at except where she explicitly states a fact such as “I don’t hate men, it’s only some men I hate.”

Even her poetry is a dangerous minefield when it comes to presuming it actually reflects her thinking. Yet it is possibly the most viable tool in determining current conditions (individual poems) and a pattern of behavior that comes from looking at her poems over a long period.

From her behavior at the school being named for the congressman, I can assume that she still hates me, even if I’m not on the priority list of her concerns.

She apparently feels that I derailed a promising career path, and in this, she may be partly right.

My jealousy early on, put an unnecessary wedge between her and our former Temporary boss – regardless of whether or not he was simply the next rung in her trickling up.

While I had no part in pushing for her resignation from our office, she may see it otherwise, and I certainly played a role in uncovering the plot to sabotage the third ticket in the Hometown election, which may have provided her with an opportunity for advancement.

One of the ironic acts in all this came from James was poised to take a part in the anti-administration campaign in the town I cover.

After witnessing his actions in the Hometown election, I altered the alternative candidate to be cautious, resulting in James’ team not being hired (he blamed me but the alternative candidate had already gotten word from insiders in Hometown). So, instead of James and his crew, the alternative candidate hired Joey D – one of our poet’s possible lovers – who promptly tried to get her a job with the new mayor.

I don’t know why the new mayor didn’t hire her, but it is possible she blames me for that slight as well, even though I left that beat because the incumbent mayor and his crew were coming after me, accusing me of taking sides with the alternative candidate – which I had not.

At one point, I thought I saw her near City Hall down there, and her pictures from the pipeline site (that our owner was so impressed with) prove she was no stranger to my town.

Yet, she was not in town for the swearing in of the new mayor last week, even though Joey D became the business administrator, a role similar to the one he played in the Virgin Mayor’s town up north.

For the most part, she has faded from the political scene, posting only a few poems and essays about her eating disorder struggle (and one essay about the FBI). At this point, she has no job, yet I strongly suspect she may soon be able to broker her role in PR for the Virgin Mayor into some respectable and non-political job somewhere and will go on with her life as if these years we have just gone through never happened.

Was it all a scam from start to finish? Or were there moments of legitimate feeling?

In some ways, she is a lot like Superstorm Sandy, blowing through our lives, leaving a landscape full of devastation, without any of us really understanding the motives.

One pattern that has emerged concerns the men and women with whom she engaged, people who fell in love with her (or the shell she adopted) and cling to her heels hoping to retain some of those feelings, which she may or may not share with them.

Those who love her truly come to love her indeed, and I include myself in that batch of derelicts, whose lives she changed even unintentionally.


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