Tips on how to navigate Half Agony

Posted on February 8, 2013



Here’s a little primer for navigating Half Agony, Half Hope.

Of course you are free to wander around as you like – and I hope you will – but here are a few specific posts that may provide some context for everything else: 

Exploring the links and categories in the navigation bar at the top of each page as well as the archives in the side bar may be helpful. 

I should note that this is a work in progress and, as such, will evolve  over time. Also, there are several posts that are being written/edited so aren’t currently on view. If you’d like to keep up with new and updated entries, you can subscribe to this blog via email (link in the sidebar on the right) or follow me on Twitter.

Probably most important to note is that although this is a memoir of a specific time in my life, it is not necessarily in chorological order. I am writing the essential elements in a linear fashion and, as I complete them, will post them here and here.

But most of this memoir is a memory montage. It has sometimes bothered or perplexed me over the five years since I met DK that, although we have gone for long periods of time not seeing or speaking to each other, he has remained such a strong presence in my life. And I, apparently, in his. In October of 2011, we began communicating again (via text, that horrid medium) after having not seen or spoken to each other in a year. Our conversation turned, as it always did in the latter years, as to why we were not together. He said, as he had many times before, that I was one of “top three” most interesting, intelligent and stimulating people he had ever known. I commented that I thought it odd he would still say that as we had not been together for over a year. DK replied, “Sometimes intensity pushes past time and overrides it. My attraction and desire to be with you was unlike anything else in my life.” As it was for me.

In May of 2010, Scientific American published an article titled “Is Time An Illusion” that echoed Deke’s explanation of our draw to each other. It posited that Einstein’s theories of relativity suggest that there “is no single special present but also that all moments are equally real”. 

I am not a scientist, but that made so much sense to me. It explained why specific memories, although distant in the time they took place, stand side by side in my mind. Why the memory of DK strolling, unannounced, into my home on a spring day, saying, “I don’t know what to think of us, but I know I am wildly attracted to you and can talk to you for hours,” is as real and present as the memory of me driving to his townhouse, desperate to talk to him, only to have him say that he was “not going to reward my bad behavior” by letting me into his home. Why the memory of my question, “Why are you here, DK?” when he turned up after a few weeks of no contact, and his answer, “Because I missed you,” is as immediate as hearing him scream at me over the telephone, “I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU!”

So that is what you will find a lot of here: memory snapshots – happy, sad, angry, funny, passionate and despairing – of time spent with and without a man whose presence, however intermittent, cast a long shadow on my life.