E-mail to Amanda
Mar. 19th, 2004 12:33 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
x-crowdofone.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_communicationTo: Sefton, Amanda
From: Madrox, Jamie
Subject: Bet this is the last thing you thought you'd see in your inbox today.
So here's the thing. Doc Samson keeps nudging me to think about talking to you, and I've sort of gotten to the point where I think it's a good idea. I think, actually, he had in mind after you got back, but the thing is, since basically everyone I care about here isn't mad at you, and just about everyone I respect is willing to give you a second chance, it's getting awfully hard to hold onto a grudge. And, to paraphrase something I read once, any suggestion worth following is a suggestion worth exceeding.
You don't have to reply to this e-mail, or read any further than this, if you're not ready to talk to me, that's completely up to you.
The first thing I have to say is, I'm sorry I called you a twisted bitch. That was out of line. I'm not sorry for being angry, but when I posted that, it wasn't . . . okay, let me back up. The first thing I did after I was sure the potion wasn't working anymore was track down Kitty, and she'd locked herself in her parlor, and . . . what it was, was, both of us thought that what we'd done was bad enough that the other one wouldn't want to be with us anymore, but we got that straightened out and we kind of hid out the rest of the night there, and fell asleep.
And then the next morning, which was the day I made that post, I woke up--I just about always wake up before she does--and saw her sleeping there, so peaceful, and I hated myself for ever believing she'd turn on me like that . . . and then I did what Doc Samson calls transference, because I wouldn't have doubted Kitty if it hadn't been for the potion, which you'd made, and it was a hell of a lot easier to hate you than it was to hate myself. I'm not very proud of that, but that's why I said what I did.
But what I'm trying to say is, I don't hate you anymore, and I haven't for a while. There's the thing I said before about everybody I care about, etc., and you helped save 'Yana while I was conked out from that stupid cold, not that I could've done much anyway, and then there was finding out that the potion would either have been dumped safely or it'd still be in Doug's desk drawer except for that Kwannon thing, which is partly my fault, and just . . . y'know, I got three sentences into replying to some of your comments about Doug and Angie before I realized who it was, and that was just weird, because I was thinking the same things?
So. This isn't forgiveness. I can't do that right now. Whether or not you ever intended anybody to use it, that love potion was just by definition a nasty piece of work, and for all I know you could just be talking a good game about getting better, because I don't get how standing naked in a stream in the middle of March and drinking nasty herbal crap is supposed to fix that, unless they're telling you that if you do it again, you get more ice-water baths and herbal crap. I don't get this magic stuff. It feels like, I dunno, cheating on reality.
Maybe we can talk forgiveness when you get back, if this magic camp thing actually takes. I don't know. To me, forgiveness means saying I trust you again, and I'm not sure I can do that. But what I can do is, I can send this e-mail, and apologize for the things I think I need to apologize for, and tell you I don't think you're scum, and . . . just leave the lines of communication open, I guess, because even if we're never going to be friends, we can at least act like two people who go to the same very small private boarding school and see each other in the halls and at meals and in the laundry room and stuff. Or not, because you're not here, but you know what I mean. Civil conversation. Maybe the occasional joke. Teasing mutual friends. That kind of thing.
I guess the next part is up to you.
From: Madrox, Jamie
Subject: Bet this is the last thing you thought you'd see in your inbox today.
So here's the thing. Doc Samson keeps nudging me to think about talking to you, and I've sort of gotten to the point where I think it's a good idea. I think, actually, he had in mind after you got back, but the thing is, since basically everyone I care about here isn't mad at you, and just about everyone I respect is willing to give you a second chance, it's getting awfully hard to hold onto a grudge. And, to paraphrase something I read once, any suggestion worth following is a suggestion worth exceeding.
You don't have to reply to this e-mail, or read any further than this, if you're not ready to talk to me, that's completely up to you.
The first thing I have to say is, I'm sorry I called you a twisted bitch. That was out of line. I'm not sorry for being angry, but when I posted that, it wasn't . . . okay, let me back up. The first thing I did after I was sure the potion wasn't working anymore was track down Kitty, and she'd locked herself in her parlor, and . . . what it was, was, both of us thought that what we'd done was bad enough that the other one wouldn't want to be with us anymore, but we got that straightened out and we kind of hid out the rest of the night there, and fell asleep.
And then the next morning, which was the day I made that post, I woke up--I just about always wake up before she does--and saw her sleeping there, so peaceful, and I hated myself for ever believing she'd turn on me like that . . . and then I did what Doc Samson calls transference, because I wouldn't have doubted Kitty if it hadn't been for the potion, which you'd made, and it was a hell of a lot easier to hate you than it was to hate myself. I'm not very proud of that, but that's why I said what I did.
But what I'm trying to say is, I don't hate you anymore, and I haven't for a while. There's the thing I said before about everybody I care about, etc., and you helped save 'Yana while I was conked out from that stupid cold, not that I could've done much anyway, and then there was finding out that the potion would either have been dumped safely or it'd still be in Doug's desk drawer except for that Kwannon thing, which is partly my fault, and just . . . y'know, I got three sentences into replying to some of your comments about Doug and Angie before I realized who it was, and that was just weird, because I was thinking the same things?
So. This isn't forgiveness. I can't do that right now. Whether or not you ever intended anybody to use it, that love potion was just by definition a nasty piece of work, and for all I know you could just be talking a good game about getting better, because I don't get how standing naked in a stream in the middle of March and drinking nasty herbal crap is supposed to fix that, unless they're telling you that if you do it again, you get more ice-water baths and herbal crap. I don't get this magic stuff. It feels like, I dunno, cheating on reality.
Maybe we can talk forgiveness when you get back, if this magic camp thing actually takes. I don't know. To me, forgiveness means saying I trust you again, and I'm not sure I can do that. But what I can do is, I can send this e-mail, and apologize for the things I think I need to apologize for, and tell you I don't think you're scum, and . . . just leave the lines of communication open, I guess, because even if we're never going to be friends, we can at least act like two people who go to the same very small private boarding school and see each other in the halls and at meals and in the laundry room and stuff. Or not, because you're not here, but you know what I mean. Civil conversation. Maybe the occasional joke. Teasing mutual friends. That kind of thing.
I guess the next part is up to you.
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Subject: Re: You ain't wrong about that last thing comment...
Date: 2004-03-19 03:42 am (UTC)All right. Possibly too soon after reading this to be replying in any kind of coherent way, but I wanted to let you know that I'd read this, and that I'd accepted the apologies, although part of me agrees with you about the the whole twisted bitch thing. But that's my problem, not yours, and I ain't about to undburden meself. Not to you. No offence meant.
I also wanted to let you know that I agree with you about the potion. Fucking stupid idea, used entirely the wrong way. Did you know most witches don't even have that spell in their books? Too much potential for things to get royally fucked up, as we can both attest to. When and if I get back, that particular spell, and a few like it, are for a nice little bonfire. And that's a promise. Weather you believe it or not, its happening.
The magic thing I don't expect you to understand. What you should know is this - if I go on the way I was going, there was a lot more in store for me than a few cold baths and Homily's tonics (although, really, you have to taste them to appreciate the true horror). Magic has a price, and the price for screwing people over is your soul, by all accounts. And not in a after you're dead kind of way - I was well on me way to turning into someone like the cold bastard who taught me all this in the first place. And if that ever happens... well, you won't need to worry about it. Pete's promised to deal with me in the proper way if it comes to that, and you won't need to worry about me again if he does.
The trust thing is the killer, ain't it? I don't expect you to trust or to forgive me any time soon. I can't do that meself, so how can I expect someone else who ain't privy to all the facts do the same?
I'll do the same for you as I've done for Kitty - you feel like talking about this when I get back, email me , and we'll talk. Right now everything's changing too much, and you don't know all the facts. That might change, but it's going to take me a bit to sort through it first.
A.
Re: Subject: Re: You ain't wrong about that last thing comment...
Date: 2004-03-19 12:08 pm (UTC)And I hope Mr. Wisdom never has to, uh, "deal with" you.