The fact that I think about this young woman to the extent that I do now, and to the extent that I have done for over a year now, does not mean much to me in and of itself. All it really means to me comes down to the fact that this one aspect of my persona has not changed much, if at all, since the late 1970s, when I was all of thirteen years old. How I THINK about this aspect of my persona, and what exactly I DO about the fact that I can still think about a person such as her, that's all changed completely. I feel very comfortable with myself now, even though I most likely will never know this person in any way as a friend and/or a lover. This tendency to fall under the sway of such a one as her, or more accurately, to fall under the sway of some notion of this person that exists inside of me, just represents a key part of Richard J Alexander, Jr, born in Austin, Texas, in the year of our Lord, 1964.
I'm not despondent or depressed about this reality I'm in, for I know this notion of this person will most likely leave my body and mind and leave just traces behind, eventually. That always happens. And, I'm very, very, very happy that no crash and burn psychotic episode happened, this time, as a result of this tendency I have to fixate on such a one as her. I'm also very, very, very happy that I never, to my way of seeing things, mistreated this young woman and gave her cause to hold some kind of grudge against me as a result of my unyielding fixation.
In my blog post of these past many years, I talked often of Sara in 1988. I talk often of that time and how it serves as a template for how I proceed when faced with whatever dilemmas come up in regards to a young woman such as this one of the past year-plus. The Sara Template works beautifully every, single, time. That may ring true once again, because, this young woman may have had an agenda in regards to myself that had nothing to do with friendship, dating, sex, love, girlfriend, or relationship. My worst-case guess about her involved some crusade she may have undertaken to strike a blow for women all over the world by doing some kind of vicious take down of me. As it stands, I never had the slightest inclination, when push came to shove, to engage with her on even the most incidental, superficial level. I never tried to make small talk with her, nor her with me, on the few occasions such a thing could have occurred. That also makes me very, very, very happy. I never, ever, saw any aspect of my time in this fixation where I missed an opportunity to get to know her better, because I'm very, very confident that none such opportunity ever, ever, ever, even once, ever existed.
If, for some dumbass reason she ever, ever tries to engage with me as a possible adversary again, and tries to reach out to me socially in some attempt to engage in such a conflict, I feel one hundred percent confident that no, even then, I will not even attempt to chase her to the ends of the Earth and back. The legacy of no attempt of my part to reach out to her socially in any way will still rule the day. I made a rhyme. If she shakes out the same as all the others of these past eight years or so, I've probably seen the last of her. Maybe not the last of her kind, but the last her, probably. So, I can think, think, think about her all the time, time, time. This notion of her will go the way of the others, some day.