It is 3:54pm at the moment.
And so he calls me, and he kinda apologizes. He says he doesn’t understand why I’m being so moody. He asks if I still love him. He makes me feel better, even though I don’t smile. I hit bottom, now I’m creeping up again. Just wait, I’ll hit the bottom again. Another slope will come, I will cry again. I will laugh again. I will repeat, like an idiot. Ignorant in my bliss, enlightened in my pain, forever cycling, until I’m too dizzy to carry on.
It is 5:05pm at the moment.
Believing I was pregnant has fucked up everything. Now I feel worthless. I needed to look forward to that. Now I’m scared again if I should be having a baby. Facing the reality is harder than the chance or worse; the choice.
Everything makes me cry. Music, thinking, reading, dancing... Writing. It’s all tears. He didn’t answer is phone when I called half an hour ago. Why does it feel like that alone was hours ago? Why does the day already feel over? Why do I feel so lost? I haven’t felt so lost in a long time. I’m questing myself, my reasoning, my desires... I’m questing my wants and needs...
And I’m crying, quaking and shaking. I need direction. I need a smack to the face. I need comfort and love. I need someone to listen. I need someone to understand.
The phone rings, and I answer. I’m crying, and he’s questioning. I don’t know what to say, and he doesn’t know what’s wrong. He’s distracted, and I’m scattered. He says he loves me at the same moment I tell him I love him. We hang up, and I feel even worse.
It is 5:22pm at the moment.
He’s been gone three and a half hours now. I feel like shit. I hate that I’m so dependant, and yet I don’t even want to break away. I didn’t want to break away a year and two months ago either, but it had to be done. How much worse my life could be right now if I hadn’t done that. Who knows how I would have felt living in Chicago, alone, friendless, jobless without anything to do with myself.
Let’s compare. Oh. Hm. Sounds not so different in that light. Though there is Tina and such, but why does that just not really matter? Why is that so irrelevant? Why does everything pale before My boyfriend? Am I really that weak? Am I really so wretched?
I want to knock some sense into myself. I want a lot of useless wants. I breathe useless breaths. I write useless words. I live useless life. I suppose nobody can do better than that anyway, eh?
It is 5:42pm at the moment.
He doesn’t seem to understand that calling me and telling me what a fucking good time he’s having doesn’t help. It’s not going to make me feel better. I hate Sundays. It’s just a fucking disappointment waiting to happen each week. I kinda wish he didn’t have any days off at all so I didn’t feel like he was choosing everybody over me.
It is 7:46pm at the moment.
This isn’t surprising. Company is always bad. Boyfriends are always difficult. Life is always bull shit. I hardly even have a thing to say about this. I want to crawl into a hole and disappear. I can’t believe El is defending me, after I thought I had no respect for the guy, but then again, this was never a problem between El and me, this is problem between My boyfriend and I.
Summerlee and Timmy are here of all people. They now call themselves Tim and Summer.
My boyfriend has been drinking, they all have been drinking, but My boyfriend is the one who has promised me over and over again that he’d quit. I dumped his drink down the drain. He tried to say "but I paid for it" which makes it worse, not better. He’s lost his temper and left the room.
I told him, "if you’re still not done drinking than leave," and he said, "peace" as in "bye" and then wouldn’t leave. El tried to stop the whole thing from happening... It’s no use, is it?
It is 10:00pm at the moment.
I just spoke to El, and he feels like he’s in the same situation as me. He prefers to go out with My boyfriend than to go out by himself. Since he himself drinks and smokes, it’s hard for him to reinforce things with My boyfriend, especially when there is such a pressure at a party to be doing those things.
Neither of us see a solution that is fully satisfying for everybody. It’s possible to make My boyfriend perfectly happy, El mildly happy, and me damn-near miserable, and that’s about is good as it looks, which is making seriously consider what I really want in my future.
I want a husband, and I want children, and I want a home, and I want to take care of all three as best as I can, and I’m not trying to wait until I’m old to do that. My boyfriend seemed like the perfect candidate, especially with how much we have in common. We’ve spent a year together now, and I feel closer to him than I did to Tre after two years, by far.
It’s not that I couldn’t find another man, and it’s not even that I couldn’t compromise, but they both sound like misery and failure. All options sound bad. I don’t want to deal with him being gone once a week, and El was talking about damn-near splitting days fifty-fifty.
I want to smash my head into a wall. I want to disappear. I want out, I want out, I want out.
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