Jan’s birthday was around this time, and all this month there had been a picture of her at that birthday party [the one that “Joanna”/Kajira invited me to when she first introduced the Aussie]. The party was given by Janet’s friend named Kris who owned a nightclub somewhere (I assumed Kris was the friend from the Track 7 of Velvet Rope’s Interlude before “Go Deep”). “Kris” was never one of the friends involved in all this and we never talked about her, so I pretty much figured this Kris was that Kris (and one of her friends I didn’t know).

On the photo, Janet sat in front of a couple of birthday cakes and some wine. She had on a black shirt and was holding a black NY Yankees cap in her hand. Her arm was thrown over top of and across her head while she held on to the baseball cap. She had her lips puckered up as if she was about to bust out laughing (with her sneaky lil’ slick self). It was funny because you could tell that she posed for the picture, but purposely did not look at the camera-instead, she was slumped down with her head turned to the side and looking at the wall. I laughed because “*Looking at the wall*” was something that she would always say she was doing [if while we were talking dirty] she would say something that embarrassed me, or had me taken aback (which was quite often). So to keep from embarrassing me, she would say: “Ok, *Looking at the wall.*” Rather than her words on the screen expressing that, the picture reminded me of a live demonstration of how she really looked—”*looking at the wall*” (to keep from making me blush or embarrassing me). I couldn’t stop laughing because she was so silly like that. Stuff like that used to turn it up ten notches for me with her, because she worked really hard to do the best she could, and to the extent that she could (all things considered)…

The picture itself was set up as a birthday card for everyone in the room to sign upon entry. Me-being special to her; I wanted to make it special for her. So from the May 13 day that it was put up; I would go into the room without signing the card because I wanted to wait to sign it until exactly one minute before the 12 o’clock hour of her birthday: May 16th.

When I entered the room, there was a conversation going on between two of her shit starting friends. They were talking about how obvious it was that I was ignoring the card (because I hadn’t signed it, yet, had been in and out of the room several times). They were saying how pissed off Janet was that I had not signed it-considering the 2-3 page open letter she had sent down for me to read in the middle of the room while she was under the nickname: “SECRET” when I was in there one day.

The letter was so sweet and it really touched my heart. She said things that she could not and would not dare send to me in I.M or email-ever. And since it was during a time that she and I could not talk in I.M (due to her “new connection” changes) the effort she put into setting this up really made me feel special-because it was obvious that she was feeling very euphoric and she was happy about the emotional place she was in-happy that she found [me]. As cryptic as it was; her buddies and I all knew what it was about. It made me tear up-I can’t lie, because it was unexpected and very well-thought out.

 “SECRET” proceeded to tell the room that she was a hacker that had hacked Janet’s computer and found a love letter that she had written to someone that she was in love with. “SECRET” revealed the contents of the letter, which stated how madly in love Janet was (with this particular person) and how she never felt that way before. She went on to explain how she loved (this person) emotionally, mentally, physically and spiritually and how she never thought she could love this way in her life and how she wanted the two of them to stay together forever. It was touching and pulled at my heart’s strings like crazy.

The chat room script changed posts about every 15/20 seconds and I only had 15/20 seconds to read the whole page (and there were about 2-3 of them), so I couldn’t ingest every word the way I wanted to (but I got the gist of it). 

I was smiling and blushing, because I thought it was so cute. It reminded me again of how human she really was, and how vulnerable and shy she was beneath all the other stuff. Janet did a number on my head because just when I would step out on my heart and feelings for her and instead, rest and rely on my head; she had a way of sensing that-and at that moment in my head’s time, she would lay her heart and feelings on the line. She did that a lot in some way or another. She could do a number on me. I can’t lie. So for the whole three pages, I totally forgot about any terrible thing she had done thus far. I loved her in some new kind of way that I couldn’t explain.

The contents of the letter would have definitely pointed the finger at Janet, and sending it through the chat room was where she obviously felt safest, and I understood, (although I still hadn’t given her any reason not to trust me-despite all the shit they had done up to this very point).

Her child-like ways always did a number on me. Truth be told, the biggest part of me was really a sucker for her. She always needed reassurance that she was special and was the only one in all realms of my romantic life, and she was. My everything was centered around this woman-she was at the core of everything in my life at the time. She was very important to me. Although she had done things that hurt me, and the strange way she entered my life, and the things she was doing was uncouth; I still had some tucked away strange brand of loyalty and feelings for her as if she was my-everything from my best friend, to my significant other half. She just had that way about her. She relied on me and didn’t try to hide that-that was what she felt.

If you did feel any kind of way about her that you ever wished to hide, if she really wanted you—she had a way of pulling it from you and multiplying it to the tenth power. She was the sweetest thing (most times). I cannot deny that-or her. I think the reason that I loved her so much was because I could tell that she was used to getting her way with many-a-people “in 3 hours,” and that would most probably be all you were going to get out of her, from her, or have with her-a “three hour kind of relationship” and “three hour kind of times” with her. Janet knew how to collect pain, and ignore and forget about matters of the heart in a strange kind of way. Not that she was indomitable, but her resilience had more strength than her willingness or the necessity to play or stay. I say that because although her friends and I may have laughed about that “JanetsBaby” nickname and room joke, I know for a die-hard, hardcore fact that I saw her eight months preggers before. I knew the magazine name, the pose, and who stood with her in the picture-all the way down to what she wore, and the month and year I saw the picture. I’m not crazy. I have a memory like an elephant. About the only thing I can’t recollect about it was the page number of the magazine that the picture was in.

And as far as that, [in relation to this, concerning Janet], if somebody can give birth to a whole human being and deny its existence in order to begin and save a career and somehow convince themselves that it’s okay; I think that kind of mind-trickery can play out in any way in that person’s life too. So “love” is no match for somebody like her--somebody with the ability to be resilient and turn away willingly (or out of necessity). It’s a psychology behind that-and a deep one, behind her. And she knew that I knew that. She knew that I knew all that, (and felt that).   

Having said that, I could tell that it’s not easy getting this far with her because trust me, had I let her get at me “in 3-hours” we wouldn’t have ever gotten this far-and I would not have ever gotten a chance to get in her head and get in her heart in this way-ever. Her bed: Yes. But her head: No. So I was special-and I knew it. But then, again…I knew her. And she became special to me in a different way than when I didn’t know her. So I put up with a lot from her.

Anyways, when “SECRET” left, the room was set ablaze by everybody talking and carrying on. While that was going on, “Secret” (in lower case this time), came down and “*sighed*” then asked: “Cinamon, um, do you have my key?”

I responded: “Yes, I have it here with me swept safely under the rug…”

We smiled at each other, because no one would or could even understand…

But back to her crazy as friends and this birthday card…

Because of Janet’s open confession and heart’s outpour, they rambled on about how inconsiderate I was for ignoring the card, and how Janet had even revealed to them that she had never been loved like the way I loved her and how the best sex she had was with me. I hated that so many people were in our business. I hated that I couldn’t really talk to her and tell her everything about how I really felt. I hated that they all seemed to have influence over her shame. And when the slightest thing would go wrong, they were right there to remind her-trying to make her feel like I didn’t feel for her what she felt for me, and that certainly never was the case. I just felt that because of how we were-so off and on (fighting all the time, her lil’ shit starter’s nose-poking, the phone tapping, and other madness), I had to keep a reserve as well as my cool, simple as that-nothing less than that. It’s just that Janet came with a lot of red-tape, and because of; I came with a lot of yellow tape that read: Proceed with caution.

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