Joined: 11 Nov 2003
Update: Everyone's blogs! 13/14 Feb 2004
|When I was little I would dream of the day that I had a baby of my own to love and hold and nibble on its tiny little toes. At night I would slip into the nursery and listen for those faint noises that meant all was well. My husband and I would stand in the doorway, arms around each other, and watch the baby sleep, small body gently moving up and down with the inhalations and expirations required for life. On weekends we would pack up and go over to my mother's house and grandpa would get all goofy with his first grandchild, trying to hide the easy tears that love brings, while grandma cared for me and reminded me that I used to be to her own baby, and she loved me just as much as I loved my child. She told me several times when I was young that I would never know how much she loved me until I had a child of my own.
As my child grew up I would quickly kiss away the inevitable hurts of growing up; the bumps and bruises and scrapes that both physical and emotional movement inflict upon us all. I would always be understanding but firm, kind but fiercely dedicated, motivated but not driven. I would be the ideal mother. Mine would be the house all the neighborhood children would congregate to on lazy summer days while I would watch benevolently in the background, baking cookies and making lemonade. As the locusts sang their low and sad afternoon music, I would feel the small arms of my child around my neck and the same sweet breath puff against my ear as I heard, "I love you, Mommy."
These dreams are not mine to come true. These are for some other, more deserving woman to experience and cherish and reminisce about in the long winter of old age. Some other woman who has a mother to tell her she loves her; who has a father who will know who his grandchild is; who has a husband who has regard for.. life, love, happiness; for a child who doesn't look at her with hatred and malevolence. I pray that another woman may have all my dreams come true for her. This is my bequeathal. It is my legacy. It is my fervent dream, for anyone other than myself.
I know now what I need to do. I know that you and Jake and everyone else will think this is post-partum psychosis. I know it is not. I know that if I don't do it, I will die. I know that if I do it, I will also probably die. I know that I'm scared. I know that I'm resolute. I know this is the end. I know how Sidney Carton felt. I know it is wrong. I know it doesn't belong among God's creations. I know that if I can't bring myself to do it, I will refuse to stay on this earth with it. I know I have a knife. I know this is goodbye.
|Player or playee?
A fitting date, wouldn’t you agree? I didn’t expect to wrap things up quite so neatly. But hey! Look at me – here on my own, freed from the constraints of my earlier times. Freed from the realities of the world. Safe from the destruction of the meddlers.
I wreaked a little havoc on my own, too. I had to disengage myself from the cling wrap of a marriage. Too much time trying to talk to me. Should have known better… should have known... were she wiser to the ways of someone who dominates time. She couldn’t understand the power. NO ONE could understand what I held in my hand. In a small, tinny box lived the circuitry of a God – and it was tucked into my palm, safely ticking backwards the time.
The baby – I tried to be interested in it, but it was such a fickle, temporary thing. Men used to believe they would live forever through the souls, genes and memories of their offspring. I have transcended genetic reproduction – propelled past it to live forever by upsetting the scales of time. I no longer require contributions to the genepool to ensure my legacy. I’m sure Meg will find comfort in my memory when she tends to it.
The money is more than icing - a clear case of the end justifying the means. The money dear Craiggy retrieved for me from his timely investments. I had to go see him to get it, though… I hope the bruises are more than temporary. To see the look on his face when he knew I had bested him. And then when he realized I would be untouchable – priceless.
I can imagine you reading this, sitting there, holding your miserable heads in your pathetic hands. You thought you had it all figured out, didn’t you? You and your that pathetic old CIA retiree playing around behind the scenes as if your actions could make a difference. No worries though, I cleaned up after myself well. Very little was left behind besides this brief message to you, and the memory of me.
I hope, before you go to sleep at night, you pray. Never forget - you’ve seen the beast.
And I’m listening.
AND YOU ALL GOT PLAYED.
I'm done with it. Jake asked me to plant a keylogger on Becker's system. Screw that. I'm telling him where he can go with that and then I'm going to brief Becker on Jake's behavior.
Jake's going to catch an earful tonight when I see him after. work.
Reggie 12:23 AM
Jake is really pissing me off. His constant phone calls are so disruptive. He wants me to spy on my boss for him because he's harboring some paranoid delusion about being a 'target.' I need to put a stop to this.
Reggie 12:20 AM
Jake is freaking me out a bit. He's really obsessed with Becker. We talked for hours and he kept asking me over and over if Becker was saying stuff about him. Too weird.
Reggie 12:19 AM
Ran into my old buddy jake. He invited me over for drinks. Should be fun catching up.
I go to bed, and when I get up I find out I missed all the fun