The truth is always better than a lie

My father thinks that I want to have sex with him. He thinks that all women secretly desire to have a sex with him.

Maybe all men are like that. I couldnt know, because of my injured clit from being kneed in the crotch as a child. In college I hit my boyfriend on the back in the middle of sex because he couldn’t get me to come off.

That poor young man, he was such a beautiful lover and I didnt deserve him and I knew it and I let him go and nobody understood.

So Mark (same first name) at the state hospital in PA was also a beautiful man. At the time I felt he was college Mark in a “parallel universe” after the near death experience from the overdose.

I shouldnt have been having sex with Wernersvile Mark, it wasnt proper. I should really have been having sex with college boyfriend Mark, either, I was copy catting my roommate S who met a boyfriend Freshman week and went on to marry him long after college.

I just didnt know what I was doing at Harvard. My mother didnt go to college, it was different in England. And my father was a British working class scholarship student, his father was a dock laborer.

I didnt really know the meaning of college. Thinking back to my essay abour RUNNING AWAY FROM HOME!!! (lol!!!) which was a philosophical treatise about and based on Samuel Johnson’s “Rasselas” from my English, I see that it perfectly placed me in college; JUST NOT AT HARVARD.

Kent School was HARD!!! I needed to cut loose and play for a bit. Instead, I wound up feeling like I personally swallowed the Cold War!!!

Which put me at the state hospital here in Berks County PA in 1986, 2 years after receiving my diploma in the mail after finishing my Harvard coursework in a summer session after taking a leave of absence after being President of the undergraduate literary magazine and attempting to cut my wrists not even knowing how to do THAT.

So, I slipped on my words when trying to speak to my sexually inaporopriate father when I came back from the Horsham Clinic early last year after my mother’s death.

I dont know what I was thinking!!! I turned to him, we were sitting on the couch in the kitchen, i was just trying to start a conversation, I said, “Let’s explore you.”

I meant, lets talk, whats going on with you, this is a diffucult situation…”

He took it EXACTLY AS I FEARED!!!. He Ivwas coming on to him.

At another time HE CALLED ME EVIL!!!

He coaxes me to say words he wants to hear–JUST LIKE MY EX USED TO IO WHEN WE I MAKING LOVE.

He adjusts his hearing aid and says “talk louder.”

So, my grandmother– my mother’s mother– commented on my “tall dark handsome man” when I was seeing Reading Mark ba ck in the 80’s. She was here visiting and it made me so sad to see her. That I would never really know her. Or any of my my other relatives.

The curious thing is that THEN I DID.

I haven’t yet identified it in time and place yet but there was a paradigm shift through a lateral move where a lot of things got proved through differently via interpolation where I met long lost English cousin Emma; she changed it for everybody here in the States. And, later, from the Murphy side of the family. Cousin Jeff. THEY BOTH ACCEPTED ALEX. THERE WAS NO REASON NOT TO. it was HORRIBLE what Bernard and Claire and Steven and Judith did. Alex was also a beautiful and sensitive man.

So, instead of Boston, Buffalo. And then, they inhered together in a new protocol where the two abortions with me and Alex were played out and covered over as a murder trial in Berks County and I was never even told.

My novel will, as I have stated, address WHY ABORTION HAPPENS here n America today and how it affects families in this complex and unusual society.

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