3:39 a.m. - 2005-12-10
Uncle J taught me that love can last forever. He and my "Uncle" G stayed together near 40 years. They were the couple that would have been my parents if my mother had died. They were the couple that I stayed with summer after summer, walking the streets of NY City, taking me to plays, getting me signed on with modeling agencies, encouraging me to become a broadway actress and teaching me worldliness and grace.
Uncle J was the closest thing to a father that I had after my own died. He cared for me, watched over me and tried in his own way to make sure I was safe and taken care of. He might know now what he missed, but he had no way of knowing when I needed him. He never left the city. He was born to the city. He lived and breathed Manhatten. He and Uncle G always talked of moving, but never brought themselves to actually do it, because at heart, they were the hobbits of New York City, and they were in love with it, even if it hurt at times.
I'm mourning him with every breath I take today. I'm missing him and the connection we had each minute. I can't seem to stop crying and no one can stop the pain. No one can takre away my hurts.
I'm feeling the separation from Max acutely, because I believe, maybe stupidly, that he could soothe and hold me and make me feel protected and warm and loved.
I barely know the man, and I want to rely on him already. Its crazy. But that's the way it is. Just thinking about him makes me yearn for his big, strong arms to go around me, and have him whisper sweet, soft things into my ear.
I feel so fucking alone.
I know this entry is disjointed and awkward. Because that's how I feel. And because I'm under the influence of too much booze. I just didn't know where else to go or what else to do. I didn't want to be with my family, and I didn't want to be alone.
But I feel alone.
I want Max.