Desire vs. Lust

Monday, June 23rd 2008 at 7:25pm

I just watched an episode of the Tyra show that touched on a very controversial topic that very deeply affects me. The show centered around how difficult life is for a black woman in modern society, and myself, being a white woman, you’d think that this wouldn’t have an effect on me, but it does.

I have rather strong opinions when it comes to racial stereotypes and especially strong opinions about interracial relationships and even friendships. For me, black women have been one of the largest obstacles in my life. I feel like black women actually make life difficult for the average white woman, and that by no means do we deserve the treatment we often get.

Growing up in a neighborhood that is predominately black (to the point where I don’t see anyone white at the corner gas station except me) I often find myself the object of ridicule and hatred. If this is some remnant of slavery it doesn’t have anything to do with me. If I was offered a position somewhere in the world where I was given slaves I’d ensure that they instead were to be paid for their work and given the option to stay and work for pay or leave as they please.

Slavery is actually another topic I have strong opinions about. I don’t see it as such an awful thing for black people to have been brought her from Africa to work. That, in itself, has nothing wrong with it. It’s the fact that it was done by force, and that they were underfed, and not paid at all that made it a terrible thing. However, jews have gone through much worse tribulation, and many other races have also been victimized, so to single out black people as the victim is just ridiculous. Beyond that, there is no longer any slavery in America, and therefore that should not be a just cause for a white person (male or female) to be targets with such harsh actions.

Speaking from experience, it’s terrifying to have a black woman come at you. I avoid black women in my life because they honestly scare me. They’re so loud, and so quick to fight, and they take comments meant in a conversational way to be meant in a hostile way. The last thing I need in my life is to come to blows with a black woman in my neighborhood. I probably wouldn’t survive. I’m physically weak, and have no fighting experience, whereas they (clearly) are much stronger than I and quick to hostility which leads me to believe they’ve been in many fights.

The entire audience on this episode of the Tyra show was black women, and just watching it made me feel uncomfortable. If I had been there in person I would have been terrified, and yet I wish I could have been there so I could speak up for my beliefs. For one thing, no one said anything about one of the main reasons why black women have trouble getting paid as much or why they have trouble getting high-paying jobs where white people are dominant.

I personally believe that it’s speech. The white race in this country came from England, and we speak English. Ebonics (sp?) is not English. “Anit got no need to speak all proper fo nobody,” is not an attitude which will get anybody a job under a white boss. It doesn’t sound attractive and it doesn’t look attractive to speak that way. A statistic was revealed that 73% of inter-racial relationships are between a black man and a white woman. All that was said about why this might be was that black woman don’t “take care of their men” the way white women do. Honestly, I can’t speak for that from a racial standpoint because I have no idea what black women do and don’t do for their men. I do know however that the new age of women isn’t interested in men, they’re interested in work and money.

I know this because every woman under the age of thirty-five that I’ve met has told me that I have to get a job and support myself before I should worry about a man. They tell me I’m a “gold digger” or that I’m lazy, or that being “old fashioned” is just a myth to cover up my inability or my laziness. I think that is just plain stupid. It used to be that women were not valued for their ideas when they had so much more time to think, (while the kids were in bed or with the nanny and while the husband was at work) and now that women are valued for their thoughts we’re expected to take care of the kids and work! I personally will stand by my desire to home-school my children no matter what.

Back to my topic however. Many of these black women claim that we’re stealing their men. And beyond that, we’re stealing the “good” ones. No one on the show pointed out why that is either. Partly it’s the speech I’m sure. A “good” black man doesn’t want to hear that sort of speech anymore than a white man does, and beyond that a “good” black man wants a “good” woman. What’s a good woman? What’s a good man? In my opinion, a good man has a work ethic, is polite and generous, cares about world affairs, and cares about making their woman happy, and a good woman wants to do everything she can for her children, is polite and generous, cares about world affairs and will do everything to please their man.

In short, they’re educated. So many young people can’t even read anymore. When a black person chooses to not learn how to read then they are choosing to stay slaves. Some people might be appalled at such a statement, but I have met at least four black people in my life who were over the age of fifteen who couldn’t read and who had no interest in learning, and even worse, they were proud of it! A smart black man doesn’t want a woman who can’t read, that’s for sure. A nice black man doesn’t want a woman who is always getting into fights. A man who is interested in self improvement doesn’t want a woman who is content to stay in the same shallow line of thought forever.

I like educated black men. They seem so much more passionate to me, and having soft large lips is a plus too. It might also be the broken stereotype that I’m attracted to. Intelligent speech coming from a black person is very compelling to me...

I seem to be drawing a black from there. What really does make a smart black man so much more appealing that a smart white man? Perhaps it’s because it’s very hard for a black man to seem like a dork. And being a dork is not attractive, while being smart is. That’s probably why I lost my virginity to Nathan. He wasn’t a dork, but his intellect was compelling. While I’ve never dated anyone who wasn’t intelligent, none of them were dorks, unless you count one week with a guy named Mike, who I never slept with and in the end, didn’t like being around at all.

Sometimes I do feel guilty for dating nothing but black men since I was fourteen. When my Dad casually said to me over a year ago “you seem to be having a lot of salt and pepper relationships” I was stung. Why would he say that to me? Is he angry because I would rather date a black man than a white man like himself? Is his sudden interest in clubbing with young black men related to me? He did start that around the same time I started dating them... Is he trying to understand my taste?

It’s really not the appearance as much as I talk about appearances. Yes, the appearance (not so much the size, honestly) of the dick and the size of the lips do hold something to be said, but it’s something other than that. I do see attractive white men too from time to time, and in reality I see an attractive black man as often as I see an attractive white man... So what is it really?

As much as I’ve analyzed myself, I’ve never really come to a whole conclusion on that matter. I say that black men seem to be more passionate, and less dorky... But the type of black man I like has got to be more rare than a passionate and smart white man who isn’t a dork. I’m really at a loss for a good reason that makes perfect sense. Maybe it’s more about how I feel about myself... Maybe I don’t feel like I belong with a white man because of who I am? Logically that makes no sense, but emotionally I feel a small click from that.

I suddenly find that I have a headache. Thinking about this is actually rather difficult.

Tuesday, June 24th 2008 at 6:43am

I mustn’t be quite so emotional sometimes. Crusifer, despite his lacks is a fine catch. He’s completely willing to do what it takes to make things work, and if I am too blind to see when he is hurt (and vengeful only because of it) then I’m being no better.

Most of our issues stem from both of us being hurt at the same time, which makes us both insensitive to the other’s needs. For me to be reproachful of his actions after I’ve said something to him that he took as condescending or something that was borne of my own momentary scorn. How can I consider his indignation any less of importance than my own?

I find my earlier thoughts completely reversed all over again. And not just by way of mending to how I was previously... I truly have grown new love for him. You see, when we made the “all or nothing” deal, which meant that we would both give to each other to our fullest of potential that meant that every single day in which I was capable of having sex with him (if I don’t have cramps, soreness, an infection or extreme exhaustion) that I would. In return, he would give all the affection and attention I desire in whatever way I desire.

Oddly all this sex has made me feel closer to him as it’s made him feel closer to me. I now feel that sex is affection, just like he feels about it. I’ve grown to feel that way about it so quickly and so completely that I was deeply distressed by having cramps that prevented us from having sex making his not able to come home (from doing an over-time tattoo) and not greeting me (from his excitement over meeting more customers) all the more unbearable.

Today, while I could have shed the sex on the excuse that it’s still only the third day of my period I proclaimed that I was fine and that I wanted to have sex, because, well, I did. I find this an extraordinary development which makes me wonder at my desire’s real roots. Desire is so completely unrelated to lust. Lust is some manifestation caused by either excess hormones or something external that is highly arousing. But plain desire that is not so lusty, that outlasts a boner and outlasts a sudden burst of wetness is something altogether different. Desire is this deep contentment that wishes to further itself through the closeness of intercourse...

Desire comes from love and affinity and contentment. Needing outside sources to stimulate lust therefore, means there is a lack of the emotions that breed desire. This would help explain cheating, porn and the overuse of sexuality in today’s culture. What’s odd is that I didn’t read that anywhere, though it seems to ring truth. What I felt when I was going through puberty was lust borne of racing hormones. Now that those are gone I will likely only ever feel aroused through peaceful and graceful desire, which is pretty much fine by me.

I feel incredibly at ease right now. I don’t really need anyone besides Crusifer in my life right now, unless you count my parents who still help to provide the freedoms that I enjoy. I have to remember that while love is most important to me, being able to sleep and wake as I wish is a privilege worthy of merit. Crusifer is supporting me though he’s not my husband yet, and I think that ought to sport more of his character than his hastily said words while he was either upset or drunk.

Currently I’m dealing with his drinking by allowing it as long as he remains civil. It’s come to the point where I see now that his behavior really has little to do with the drink but with his friends and how they make him behave. The person he is that has adapted to them, “Cav,” is entirely unsuitable behavior for a husband or father, and because that’s what I wish him to be, Cav makes me angry. He always says that if he had children that he would be different. I’ve taken these words with a grain of salt, but he’s always clung to that: When he’s a husband he won’t go out.

That in consideration it also is worthy of note that he claims going out is always a disappointment. His cousins behaved as “bitch ass niggas” which was not a surprising report to me. He was distressed by their continued ignorance, but that also was no surprise. I said to him, “They’re just like you’re co-workers. They have no craft and therefore they can not respect someone who has worked hard for their craft. They’re idols bust guns and smack hoes, and because you’ll never be bustin’ guns or keeping your pimp hand strong they will never respect you for you. You are an artist, but to them all they see is that you are not driving a pimp car with rims. They only respect people for being better at being ass-holes than they themselves are. They want you to fuck other people over too, and to respect you for it, you have to do it better than they do. They won’t change Crusifer.”

He reports that his cousins are in and out of jail, and that several family members have recently died and undue ages and that they’re all doing drugs, and that most of them don’t have jobs. He’s disappointed in them, but because his cousins are the family he grew up with he feels like he has to be loyal to them. His brother is his step-brother and his father is his step-father and his mother doesn’t approve of his job or his chosen life and while he loves his mother to death they’re not always at ease around each other. And despite how much he loves his brother, he’s in the service rarely is in Buffalo. I like his brother a lot and wish he was around. He’s clearly intelligent and has his head on straight, unlike his cousins who are just as bad as any random people who bought weed off of Tre. That lot of people were a sorry bunch.

Anyway, in conclusion, I think Crusifer and I can work things out.

Muscle Cramps Are Sure To Occur

Monday, June 2nd 2008 at 1:48am

So much for everything.

I’m still going to try the marriage fitness program, but after the fourteen weeks are up, if things are looking anything like they are now then this will just never work.

I’m hurting myself with all this misery. My muscles all over my body are cramping because I’ve let myself get cold in my desperate actions. Crying naked on a cold tiled floor is not generally good for your health.

In this last week I’ve thrown my keyboard into my monitor causing a scrape in the monitor. I’ve also stayed up until 9:00am arguing and crying. I smoked weed for the second time in one year. I spent a good deal of time on the floor naked. I banged my head into the wall about twenty times, and on the floor around six or seven times. I screamed out the window “I hate you” to no particular person at the top of my lungs in such a high pitch that my words were indiscernible. I’ve spent countless hours trying to find a solution. I’ve spent countless hours crying.

These are all very bad signs, and while I’m fully aware of all of the implications behind all of those actions I’m still unsure how to salvage myself best in this situation. I care too much for Crusifer to leave him when I know he wants to be with me so badly. It was hard enough with Tre, but with Tre I had several advantages. One of those advantages was that I realized I was with a thief, and there is no way I could ever stay with someone who is stealing from me. Another was that I wasn’t as attached as I thought I was because a lot of the connection was placed in the weed. These sorts of things do not apply to my relationship with Crusifer. I’ve been nuts about him since the start. I have never stopped loving him, though I have drifted more and more in the last few months. I have never really hated him. I have never really said “It’s over” and expected and wanted him to leave at that very moment. I proposed to Crusifer because I thought for sure that it was the right time, and what we both needed and wanted.

There are a couple things I can focus on to force myself to leave him. For one, he confessed to me this morning that the letter he wrote me about having a drinking problem was bull shit. He doesn’t believe he has a problem. So this tells me that he lied, that he won’t quit drinking, and that he did things just to make me stay. I resent all three of those with equal disgust, anger and depression. Another thing I can focus on to make myself leave him is the fact that he almost invariably ignores me when I cry now. The part of him that cares about my feelings seems to have retreated beyond my reaching. And thirdly, he’s told me he’ll continue to drink and hang out with his friends even if it causes us to break up.

There is an abundance of other things pissing me off, like his lack of trust in me, his continual proclamations that I’m lying or “full of shit,” the fact that he doesn’t call when he’s gone for a long time, that he doesn’t care if he breaks a promise to me, the fact that he finds comforting me something he shouldn’t have to do or doesn’t care to do or find worth while to do or whatever. The fact that he considers his own pain before mine in all situations even including situations where I’m obviously the one in more physical or emotional pain. He tells me that I come after his work and his art. He told me today he’ll try to put me first. We promised to try some more. I think this might be our last dance of trying, but nevertheless I still am going to give it everything I got. I won’t fall hypocrite to the very things I’m accusing him of by neglecting him.

Crusifer told me today that he feels like he’s two people... The one that likes to drink and hang out with his friends, the him that he is at work and the him that makes me miserable. We’re calling that part of him Cav, cause that’s what they call him at work. Crusifer however always cares about how I feel and is always striving to improve himself, be productive and spend time with me. Unfortunately he’ll always be more Cav than Crusifer because of his work life. That means that he isn’t ever going to be mine. Let me tell you, that’s heartbreaking. I feel wrung out to the point where I’m not even holding my head up straight. I don’t shift positions when my foot goes numb. I don’t cover up when I get cold. I keep shaking... I never shook so much or so violently as I have these past couple days. Unless I shook like this when Jeremy left me...

Needless to say I’ve been thinking about Jeremy a lot. Feeling so desperate always makes me think about him, partly because I associate the desperate feeling to how I felt after he left me. I also think about the fact that him and I could have been together this past year and a half. I was seriously considering it before I went out with Crusifer. I love the experience I’ve had with Crusifer. It’s had so many, many good times, and so many lessons and new ways to express myself and my love and find who I really am and what I really want on levels I never touched before... But I sometimes wonder if this was the choice that would bring me the most happiness...

Hard to say. I’d be a whole person right now if I had spent this time with anyone other than Crusifer. Really issue is that Crusifer and I identify in each other something that we can find no where else. I can find love with another man, but I might not be able to find the incredible relate-ability I’ve found with Crusifer. But while I’m on that thought, perhaps we don’t relate as much as I thought anyway. Those incredible discoveries in our first few months revolved around sex and art. Two incredible aspects of life, but not the most important aspect of life. For him, those are the most important aspects, for me, they come after my health, and after love.

I used to think I wasn’t right in my head because of the emphasis I put on love, being in love and the effects that love had on my life. Because other people didn’t relate to my affection need and because other people don’t feel the deep pain that I feel when I feel a lack of affection, I thought something was very wrong with me. Mort Fertel explained to me why I’m not a freak of nature. It’s not the affection that I want so bad, it’s the love that it signifies. I feel that if someone isn’t willing to move their hands about my body for ten minutes or so, then surely they don’t love me. The joy of touching is universal, and it’s easy and it’s enjoyable. If you’re not enjoying it, then either you’re not in love with the person, or you’re upset with that person at the time.

I can follow this same logic to uncover everything that Crusifer does that bothers me. By not calling me he’s saying a lot of things. He’s saying that he doesn’t believe that I care enough to worry, or that he doesn’t care that I’m worried. He’s saying that he doesn’t really miss me, or that he doesn’t think I’d like to be bothered with his call. He’s showing a lack of caring no matter the circumstance. Even if he’s busy, and even if he’s got other things on his mind, then this still shows a lack of priority. If I was his top priority, like he is to me, then he would never forget to call me, never lack of missing me, never neglect to touch me or talk to me.

A huge thing that bothers me is that I can’t get out of him anything he wants. Mort suggests intimacy interviews to uncover all of your partner’s desires. This interview should last for an hour or so, and hundreds of wants should be uncovered in detail. To my dismay I uncovered nothing new at all except for the lack of my priority in his life. I want opportunities to show him how much I love him, and to give to him. Part of the program is to pick three things from the list you’ve uncovered to do every day. One of these three things might be the same thing everyday. I have so little to pick from that it’s impossible without doing the same things everyday.

Pedicure, manicure, massages, cooking, and sex. Nothing else makes the slightest difference to him at all. And as Mort says, you can’t give something with having a willing receiver. Therefor if he doesn’t want it, then I can’t give it. Since I should spread my “gives” throughout the day, all I can really do is wake up, give him a massage, visit him at work and bring him lunch, cook for him when he gets home, and/or have sex with him. What a dull selection. Doesn’t he like it when I write him letters? *sighs*

Tuesday, June 3rd 2008 at 7:18pm

My mind has been turning to Jeremy a lot lately. I keep expecting to see him for some reason, and then feeling out of place when I don’t. I want to talk to him about the issues I’ve been facing with Crusifer and with myself. I’d like to hear his perspective. I seem to have lost my security in my relationship, because I don’t feel that “safe” feeling a lot, and perhaps I wish to see Jeremy to see if I feel “safe” around him.

I can’t say I don’t feel guilty about this. Certainly it’s not a socially acceptable thing to want to see your ex. It’s even less acceptable when your current relationship is shaky. I can blow this off by saying that I always wish I could make Jeremy into a friend, but clearly the meaning behind my desires in much deeper, and to deny it would simply be dishonest to myself.

More than anything I want to put the past behind me and start a family with Crusifer. Short of that I want to at least get most of the past behind me and be married to Crusifer without regret. Short of that, I’d like to at least find the deepest truth of the matter within myself and put the past behind me including Crusifer if need be. Short of that, I’d like to at least use a part of my past – Jeremy – for comfort through the hard times the future may bring. Short of all of that, perhaps I can write, write, and write my misery away until I feel much better.

I feel so utterly drained. I can’t seem to find a creative scrap inside me. I have no drive to create anything right now. I have no burning craving to do anything. I have no thought nagging to be written. I have no obligation to fulfill... Why does Tina never call me?

I wanted to be there for Tina after her baby’s birth and to visit her a lot and to babysit for her...

Why do I feel so blasted empty and heavy? Surely I’ve slept well enough. It’s not lack of exercise because I biked to see Crusifer at work. I did that today and yesterday in the spirit of Marriage Fitness. Three “gives” a day, and five “talk-charges...”

I’m really lost right now. Not sure why. I suspect a shower would help...

Wednesday, June 4th 2008 at 3:29pm

Preparations for Crusifer’s birthday have begun. Despite the stress in the past few weeks between him and I, I’m still determined to give this my best shot until I don’t see any decent options other than leaving him. Crusifer is following through with his promise to listen to the CDs and to do what they say to do. He keeps quoting, “put you first” in reference to me to remind himself, and I find it absolutely adorable. He even answered the phone in the middle of a tattoo to say hi to me when I called.

His actions the past two days prove yet again that he does want to make this work very badly, but it’s nothing convincing because I’ve seen him put forth a lot of effort before when he thought it was either put forth the effort or get dumped (and of course, it was a matter of putting for the effort or being dumped.)

I discussed with him the night before last the fact that I don’t even approve of him smoking weed. Ideally, he’d quit doing that too. He of course looks at me in exasperation for a moment, but also with questing. He is curious as to know why, and not jumping to conclusions, not accusing me of trying to make him a slave.

Somewhere along the past few days I pointed out that he’s a complete hypocrite. I was able to quote at least five things he said and then contradicted within the past few days. He wasn’t able to deny his hypocrisy, but together, we were able to explain it. He doesn’t have a split-personality, but he does have two sets of values. He adopted the second set of values (he says) in seventh grade in order to fit in. The second set of values are the common values of a low class black male living in Buffalo. These values include:

Drinking, partying, not caring, fighting at the drop of a hat, demanding respect from those around you, smoking a lot of weed, listening to hardcore music, staying far away from anything homosexual and generally being a homophob. They also include not taking any “shit” from your “bitch” and “slapping a hoe” if she gets out of line, and many other things along those lines.

We gave this set of values a name; Cav, which is what they call him at work. It makes perfect sense for them to call him Cav, because he is Cav while he’s at work. This worries me because he spends so much time there. Visiting him for several hours on Monday at work made a dramatic difference in his day and in mine. He felt like he had an ally and wasn’t afraid to be the “self” that he is around me. I felt like I had my soul-mate and was drawn out of the depression I’d been in for two days if only for a few hours.

Because visiting him helped so much on Monday I visited again briefly on Tuesday, both times bringing him a sandwich. The first one just meet, cheese and vegetables. The second one included meet, eggs, cheese and vegetables. Needless to say, the eggs were much appreciated.

So this brings me back to the conversation I had with him about the weed. Smoking weed once or twice a day is not something the Crusifer I know would do, it’s something that Cav does. I brought up that this is why his mother looks down on his job. She doesn’t understand that art is all Crusifer is about, and all Crusifer will ever do for a living and that tattoos is the best way for him to turn his art into cash, at least for now. Because his mother can’t understand those things all she can see is the ghetto customers, the ghetto co-workers, the foul language, the drug usage, and so forth. I agree that those things are hard to deal with, especially when someone you love in working in those conditions day in and day out. I’m more aware than anybody the toll it takes on his personality, ego and pride.

I explained to Crusifer about the values I wanted my children to have, and the values that I have. Those values don’t include associating with people who throw their lives away, who don’t care about their health or the health of their families and friends.

My values place compassion and love far above pride and material possessions and drugs and parties. My values place health far above the temporary enjoyment of any unhealthy activity. And I want my children to share that, and my husband. If my husband doesn’t share those values than my children will share those values about fifty-percent of the time, and that would be that.

After I explained in detail about that, he nodded and agreed, and said, “I’m not ready to just quit smoking weed. What do you want me to do?”

“Start small. Don’t smoke more than once a day, and don’t smoke near the time you come home from work. I want to see you sober.”

He agreed easily, because not that many days does he get the chance to smoke twice in a day. The only problem is, despite Crusifer’s ambition and understanding of self-improvement and of love, Cav has no respect for my values or for self-improvement. Is Cav the problem?

According to Mort, he explains that in every marriage there is Rachel and there is Laya. (Refer to the Bible, and to Jacob and his two wives.) Rachel is the person you want to marry, the person of your choice and desire. Laya is the person of your fate that comes with your choice no matter what you do. Mort says that Laya is not the problem. Cav is not the problem. How I react to Cav is the problem. I certainly don’t react well. I used to I think, but I’ve been losing my patience. It’s been too long to still have this problems in my opinion. But this isn’t about “me,” it’s about “we.”

Using Mort’s principles certainly steer away from breakup, and they certainly create bonding. The only thing that takes so much time is to bond enough and love enough to be able to really drop your issues with the other person. Accepting Cav will prevent break-up, but living with him will always cause me distress unless a deeper solution can be created. The theory is that if we both put each other first, and we both move our circle of life to include each other a much as possible, if we both establish that connection and compassion for each other, if we both rekindle the way we felt when we first met, if we both remove the conditions, drop the issues, and give each other affection, loving conversation and our presence in our giving each and every day then our problems will dissipate or find easy resolutions.

I believe that this is true, but I also believe that it’s no easy matter. Granted, when Crusifer makes me happy, it’s easier to let him do something I don’t want him to do. I can leave the room, because I’m not being needy because I already had my fill of him previously in the day. Granted, that if he asks for something I don’t prefer him to do, instead of just doing it, I’m much more likely to say “okay.” Granted that if he calls me throughout the day I’m going to feel more loved, and if I call him too he’ll feel more loved. All of this is very true and makes a very good point, but it really takes two. Keeping the ambition to do all this giving is beyond what I’ll be able to manage within a few weeks if I don’t feel that he loves me enough to do the same.

Note how I worded that. Not that I have to get the same back. I need him to love me enough to give the same back. Another important point which Mort stresses is that it’s not about what you’re getting, but what you both are giving. When you look at it that way, it straightens out a heck of a lot.

Friday, June 6th 2008 at 10:09pm

As any of my long-time readers know, the lack of entries is a good sign in 80% of cases with me. I have not written the past few days because I have not felt stressed enough to need to write. Even, now, I don’t need to. I just wanted to record a joyful day where I accomplished much.

I woke up from a dream where I was enjoying myself. I don’t know what the dream was about, though I do remember being pelted with bits of crushed brick. However, whatever the dream was mostly about, I enjoyed. I know this because I woke up feeling especially refreshed and good.

Crusifer brought me a cup of tea. I drank half of it, as usual, and then turned to giving him attention. As he bored of this activity (touching and talking about nothing) he strayed from the bed. I absentmindedly starting touching myself, and found myself aroused. I called him back to the bed, and after several minutes he finally came back and I lured him inside me. The lovemaking was short and sweet, the way I generally prefer. I came, he came. Can’t ask for much more, can you?

Well, I did ask for more. I asked him to take the few extra minutes it would take to shower with me, but he declined. I made a few attempts into coaxing him into it, but I think he became annoyed at this attempt. I cleaned up in my attic bathroom (the one with only hot water, no warm water) and then hurriedly got dresses and applied sun-block and followed him downstairs into the livingroom. We grabbed our bikes and carted them out the front door, off the porch and biked with him all the way to work. He was quiet and rebuffed my attempts at conversation. This dismayed me, but I didn’t let it affect my attitude towards the day. He didn’t smile, he didn’t speak except to answer questions, he didn’t initiate any kissing or touching when we got there, and so I was a little disappointed.

I contemplated my short skirt, tank top, morning sex and ride to work with him on the way back wondering what I could have done wrong. I guess it was the “nagging” about the shower. Frustrating as that was, the day was too bright to be bogged down because he didn’t smile for me.

I got home, showered. I asked my mom if she wanted to “play with blocks” before or after going to Wegmans. We decided on before going. I’m currently making the twenty-four “wonders” for the game I’m creating. These wonders all have the same size of the base but the wooden parts connected with hot glue are arranged in drastically different designs. So far my mother has made two, and Crusifer has made two, and I’ve made nine. None of them are really painted yet though, so that’s a whole other task in it self. My mother really enjoyed herself and that made me happy.

Then my mother and I went to Wegmans. I picked up organic granola (five boxes to mix), four packages of rice crisps, three cartons of Wegmans orange juice, one flat of Wegmans water, one bag of pistachios, two bags of sour cream and onion kettle chips and two bags of salt and vinegar kettle chips. Anything else... Hmm. I also got more razor heads, and... Grapes. I got the grapes mostly to eat while I was there because I was so dehydrated.

I gave my mom $25 in cash, because it’s all I had. I think I picked up $60 worth of stuff. Crusifer usually provides for these things, but recent strains in our relationship make me feel guilty for asking for money. He’s trying to save to go to Mass. for a week. Something about experienced tattoo artists who are friends of a friend who want to help him out and have him be a guest artist at their shop. I insisted that he wouldn’t go anywhere without me for the week so it’s a decent expense to save for.

I got home, decided it was dreadfully hot, showered again, and then went about the daunted process of extracting my air conditioner. It’s been rolled into a corner for the winter behind plastic sorting drawers full of crafts, my craft table, my chair, and other related things which are extremely close to my bed which is up against an opposite wall. In other words, there is no room to just rearrange. I had to lift things, dismantle the table, sort things, put many things away temporarily, and finally pull the air conditioner to where it could hook up to the outside world. The reward sucks, because despite it’s 9000BTW, it doesn’t help much. If it’s above 93 degrees or so it can’t do anything. It blows out “cooler” air, but the cooler air is like 85 degrees or something, so it doesn’t feel like it’s working when it’s that hot. At 85 degrees or so it works quite well. What a silly machine.

I also removed the curtains the separate the “back” of the attic from my room and put them at the door at the bottom of the attic steps to help heat stay downstairs. Previously I had added foil to the windows and I have two window fans going at all times. I’ve recently starting using my third fan, a big circular one to help bring the fresh air to the bed area. All of these measures make it about five degrees hotter than the second floor instead of twenty degrees hotter, which is of note, but still daunting when I’ve gone to such lengths to make it livable up here.

Anyway, after I did that (and got all sweaty again) I took another shower... And broke the shower. I had no idea that the plumping was so fragile that if I adjusted the shower head too hard that it would disconnect on the other side. Water poured out of the pipe for a moment before I thought to turn it off. The bathtub still worked so I resorted to a bath.

Then my parents and I attended an event at my church. A very good local group called the Blood Thirsty Vegans plays there the first Friday of every month, but I’ve never been before even though I know the lead guy Alex vaguely from other open mics and such.

They played for about an hour and a half and then had an intermission for open mic. I read my poems: Intimacy, then Fire, then Dissatisfied and lastly Rain. Four of my favorites of course. I still like Beyond Reality, but it needs a revision before I read it aloud again. It screams “sixteen years old” in the middle of it even though it starts out so strong.

I danced my heart out tonight, which made me feel really good and alive. I started out with a little shoulder movement and thrusting my heal out to the beat. It quickly evolved into the most elegant arm movements I can muster, the most rhythmic hip movements I can make, the most crazy but intricate and rhythmic feet movements I can make without stumbling, and swishing my damp hair about whenever I saw fit. Being the white girl that I am, and a stereotypical one at that when it comes to dancing it takes a lot of technique for me to muster rhythm. I believe that rhythm is not a “have it or don’t” sort of thing. I don’t naturally have rhythm the way many people do, but I have techniques to keep following the beat.

My first and most important technique is to pick on element of the music to follow to get into it. Once you’re in the zone you won’t need to focus so much, but when I begin I follow one element in the music very closely which is generally the base.

The second technique I have, which is almost as important is my feet. I always try to jerk my foot on every beat that I’m following. Whether it’s a step, a stomp, a tap, or more of an ankle bounce, it’s almost vital to keeping myself in tune. However, once I’m really into it, I can switch my attention from my feet to my shoulders. Thrusting one shoulder forward, or alternating my shoulders on each beat, or thrusting them back, is another way to remind myself of what I’m following.

The third technique I have is to move my entire body in every movement. In order to look animated you can’t have limp hands, or stiff ankles or a ridged back. I utilize this to the fullest possible when focusing on technique one and two. If the song is fast paced enough, and if I have energy enough, and if I’m into it enough I can twist all three of these techniques together and do what many people just do naturally. I can move my shoulders to the in between beat and my feet to the main beat and then thrust my body forward and back, stretching up and bending low while continuing the motions with my feet and shoulders which make my other seemingly-random movements look coordinated.

Dancing has never been easy for me, but I enjoy the freedom of it, and the expression of it. We arrived at 7:00pm and left at 10:00pm. It’s going on 11:00pm now and Crusifer has called me to let me know that he won’t be home until midnight, possibly one o’clock in the morning, but he has no intentions of being longer than that. He’s going to “the park” to chill with “some people” on his lap top while smoking “a couple blunts” and doesn’t expect it to take “until three o’clock in the morning or anything like that.”

I have my doubts as to what will really happen though I imagine his intentions are good. He even warned me earlier that he wanted to go out, and I’ve accepted Fridays and Saturdays as acceptable nights to go out. I’ve accepted him going out once a week as long as it’s one of those nights. I can’t argue when he meets every condition, but none of it settles the feeling I get in the pit of my stomach when he goes out. It doesn’t hurt when he lets me know ahead of time, and my heart doesn’t ache when he follows my conditions, but my stomach never feels quite settled when he’s out when I know he could be home with me.

I’m not letting it dampen my spirits though. I had a good day despite his indecisive moods.

I think I may go read now. I’m on the fourth book of The Bridge of D’Arnath by Carol Berg, which by the way is a phenomenal series of epic adventure, fantasy, vivid sorcery, and deep characters who really portray how layered real people are. I’m becoming a huge fan of Carol Berg and look forward to buying her other series which I can’t remember the name of at the moment.

Thanks for reading. I miss you guys when you don’t comment. Anyone who comes here at all knows my social life is lacking. This is my friend. Writing is my social life. I talk, talk, and talk, but without feedback, it’s not social, it’s just talking to myself – which might make me slightly crazy. Something for you to think about – if you don’t respond, that means I’m talking to myself, which makes me crazy.

Cheers and smiles and love for everyone! Recycle your junk mail, eat more organic food, cut back on your sugar intake, smile to a stranger, give someone special a hug, and write me a detailed comment about yourself and how you can or can’t relate to me, and consider you good deeds done for the day.

Pros & Cons & Tattoo Shop on the News

Wednesday, May 7th 2008 at 8:55pm

Angel,

I've been thinking about you quite a bit today. I realized that you're the closest thing to a friend I have right now. You cared enough about what I was saying to look up the Gwen video and youtube and watch it. I don't think I know anyone else who ever has the time to care that much, and even if they did, they still wouldn't. I feel like the world is ignoring me. My blog readers are disappearing. My parents don't treat me like a kid, or pay attention to me like other either, and have stepped back to let me do as I please. Crusifer has so little time for me. I feel isolated. Though most of our e-mails from the beginning were me playing the older and wiser girl with more relationship experience, you were helping me as much as I was helping you. Being able to pass on my newly learned relationship experiences to you has given me validation and an added outlet for my emotions and even another excuse to write down my thoughts and feelings. And I think all women can identify with needing emotional outlets and excuses to write down how they really feel.

I feel really heart sick today and I'm not really sure why. I think I feel alone, but I'm not sure. But thinking about you makes me feel like someone out there cares. I wanted to let you know that I appreciate you writing me back time and time again, and keeping contact over so much time. Perhaps someday we'll really meet (and then runaway from everyone and start a new life somewhere far away from the mean, cruel world).

Love Phoenix

Wednesday, May 7th 2008 at 11:32pm

I want to stick a fork through his ear. I shouldn’t be too surprised. He can’t go one week without breaking a promise. He can’t go one week without saying I’m full of shit. He can’t keep one compromise for one week. He can’t quit drinking for me. I’m not worth it to him, and he’s starting to look less and less worth it to me. I had (foolishly) given him back his ring Sunday, way to early. I meant to take it back from him that night, but he was so delighted that I couldn’t. Now I feel like an idiot.

He hasn’t called once today. I called him three times in a row at 11:15pm and he finally answered on the third time. He sounded distinctly drunk. He told me he was already home (at least that was what it sounded like) and that he’d see me in a minute. I went downstairs and walked outside and he most certainly was not there. I called back about six times, no answer, just like the rest of the day.

Now I pretty certain that he’s been out, and not at work. That he didn’t come home to me like he said. Forget working on our office together as we had planned. Forget rejoicing about finally having a tub that works... Oh here he is.

Oh that makes me so mad. He walks in, grabs money, and waltzs back out without a hug or anything and he reeks of alcohol. My chest is vibrating so intensely I can damn near hear it. I want to crush his skull. It might not be officially over for quite some time, but I can tell, at the heart of it, it’s over. Clearly, his actions out-weigh his words, and his actions spell inconsideration, and a serious lack of compassion.

I’m too pissed to even be upset. Betrayed. How could I have given my heart to another ass hole? How could I have fallen in love with another guy who can only break my heart over and over? Is it so blissful to sit beside him drawing that I can endure this? In the moment of agony, who can ever believe there was ever happiness? Happiness is like a passing dream that you must wake from. And when in the mist of such blissful contentment, who can believe the past sorrows were anything but nightmares you had yet to overcome?

Is it better to balance my pain by remembering my happiness? And to balance my happiness remember my pain? Wouldn’t it be hypocritical to only remember happy times when you’re sad?

Thursday, May 8th 2008 at 2:00am

1:51am

Me: How is your life going?

Miruna: Rather well. Yours?

Me: Mine was going rather well and still is. All except for my relationship.... Which seems to be crumbling around the edges.

Miruna: Oh?

Me: You still with that girl you were with the last time I spoke to you?

Miruna: Yes. Things are going well. She has taken a position as a contributing editor in the local paper.

Me: That's awesome. I'm glad to hear your life is looking up, when we first spoke you seemed to be in a rough patch in life.

Miruna: Life is rough. But I am prepared for that roughness.

Me: Heh, I hear you there. I'm preparing myself for heart-break, falling in love and repeat. Since that seems to be my two year pattern. I'm at a year and a half right now. And I'm ironically feeling about the same way I did last time I was 1 year and a half into a relationship....
Miruna: Perhaps you should change the pattern.

Me: What? By leaving him six months early? Or by marrying him? Or by staying single and forgetting about men? By turning to women? (kidding, kidding... actually, I suppose I'm more serious than I actually sound... come to think of it.)

Miruna: How do you mean?

Me: I mean I'm seriously considering all of those things mentioned to break the pattern. I'm also considering the fact that this pattern might not be as bad as I think. I've learned a lot from each of these relationships. It's just the break-up that sucks. And I feel like I can't save this one, even though I'm still trying to.

Miruna: Do you want to save it?

Me: Yes, badly, but I feel like I want this more than he does. Either I want it more, or I just know how to show it more.

Miruna: Men generally need to feel useful and needed. This is not always convenient if someone cares about a man, but is independent and does not need anything. Ideally, people in a relationship should not actually need each other, otherwise one of them will eventually resent the other since they have little choice but to be together.
If you want to continue your relationship with him, you might find ways of either showing him how much you need him [if that's true] or hiding how little you need him [if that's true].

Me: He's just so unromantic. And on top of it, he's not the most talkative either. Even with so much in common it's hard to make a relationship without romance and more constructive conversation. >>I've tried showing him how much I need him, in fact, I couldn't help but show him because I get so emotional about everything. I thought things were improving ever since then, but today I'm not so sure. I think he's falling back on how much I need him, and using it as an excuse to not improve our relationship... But I'm not sure how to not need a man... It's a bad habit of mine...

Miruna: There are different ways to express need. Speech does not seem like his strong suit. Try showing him without words. Perhaps simply needing him for transportation might help, or 'getting a headache' or other minor ill that he could try to remedy. The point is largely to give him a goal to work towards, having him do something, and letting him know that it worked. Or, you could address your need for men generally. I do not need women. I enjoy the company and friendship of a particular woman, but if we could no longer be together, I would manage well enough, and would likely remain single until I found another person whose company I enjoyed.

Me: I think the other way around must be what this relationship needs. Because I do rely on him for my aches and pains and transportation... Perhaps my dependancy is unattractive to him on a subconscious level? He always says to me that he wants me as I am. It's really me who is dissatisfied with him I guess. And that's what makes me mad, is that I feel like I'm the one whose being cheated, and I feel like I put mor effort into the relationship.

Miruna: Unlike men, women want to see evidence of sacrifice, of someone giving something up for them. He does not seem to sacrifice enough for your preference. He might be unaware that you want him to sacrifice something, or if he is, he might not know how much you want him to sacrifice. Or he might simply be unwilling to sacrifice much. It seems that if you want to preserve your relationship under those conditions, you can do two things, and they are not exclusive of each other, so you should try both. Firstly, you could find a way to let him know both that you want him to give something up and that he hasn't given up enough. Words might be a bad idea for this, so find some other way to give him the message. Secondly - and this will be hard - you could find a way to reduce your desire for him to sacrifice for you. Then his current level of sacrifice will hopefully prove sufficient.

Me: I find it miraculous (and comforting) that you're telling me to take the steps that I have taken. I have told him all that i want him to sacrafice explicitly -- drinking is the main one. Also, I want him to keep his promises. He never does what he says he's going to do and this drives me crazy. I had proposed to him about six months ago, when things got worse about a week ago I took the engagement ring away from him. That got the message pretty clear. But tonight he did all the things he promised not to. On the second note though, you're right, that is really hard

Miruna: It is also guaranteed to work.

Me: I've considered that, and I have compromised with him to point where I feel like I'm cutting off my nose. I told him he could go out Fridays and Saturdays as long as he wanted, on two conditions, that he spend his day off with me and that he stop drinking. And he said that was fine, but hasn't stuck to it at all. Compromise is not what it seems. Compromise [where you give up something to get something] gets an unfairly good reputation because it sounds like it should fix everyone's problems, but it cannot. It just shifts problems around, make some big problems medium-sized, and some small problems medium-sized. It does not make things better.

Me: That is a really good point

Miruna: What works better is to state what you want, listen to what the other person wants, and work together to fix problems, not by giving things up, but by solving a problem. Not all problems can be solved, but it is better than breaking even.

Me: I feel like these problems shouldn't be so serious (because he's not getting drunk all the time or something like that) but the fact that he keep promising to completely quit for me, and then doing it anyway is so heart breaking

Miruna: That is not a problem. It is only a misstatement. He promises you not to drink. If he keeps his promise, he has sacrificed something for you, making you happy. However, on a basic, intuitive level, he does not care about giving things up for you because he does not see how giving things up could make another person happy. It would not make him happy for you to give something up for him. That gesture would not have meaning. It would be as though you told him he had very glimmish eyes. He does not know what that means, so he would ask. But in the language of sacrifice, he cannot form a question if you sacrifice something for him. He can only try to intellectually appreciate it.

Miruna: This sounds bad, but there is hope.

Me: I feel like the hope is floating away.

Miruna: As a man, he still wants to feel needed. He will not be able to translate your desire for him to drink less into a need he can fulfill unless there is a concrete step he can take to start.

1:53am

Me: You around?

Nathan: yes. Are you? [doom]

Me: How are you doin?

Nathan: I'm okay, I suppose. Except we had to have one of my cats euthanized the other day. Other than that, same-old/same-old

Me: You in Buffalo these days?

Nathan: Yes, as soon as everybody's figured out I'm in Buffalo I'll probably wind up going somewhere else again, but as of now I have no actual plans to

Me: I see. I'd say "let's hang out" but I have no idea what we would do. Probably talk for a long time.

Nathan: perhaps. Yeah, we could do that

Me: What do your hobbies include these days?

Nathan: Gaming, like always. City of Heroes, primarily

Me: Never played that. Not yet anyway. I've been playing FFXI as of late. Ever played Final Fantasy XI?

Nathan: No, haven't played any of them since 6 and the only one I liked was 3, but even that had a stupidly hard final boss that I never managed to beat

Me: I never played the old ones myself, lol. I'm not usually into the role playing scene. FFXI is only bearable because it's online with a ton of people. If it was offline I wouldn't consider playing it for a moment.

Nathan: Depends on whether the story is any good, for me, though game-play is important, too.

Me: I never like the stories

Nathan: You've just never played any with good stories. as a rule, Final Fantasy games have sucky stories, and so do MMORPGs. for that matter, the only ones that are really any good that I can think of are the Geneforge games and SepterraCore

Me: Actually, I do like the two thrones. That has a pretty cool story.

Nathan: for that matter, it would be nice if there were a better name for the sort of game where you participate in a story, as distinct from the sort of game where you actually play a role

Me: I know exactly what you mean. You have a girlfriend yet? Or are you just gonna play solo your whole life?

Nathan: Silly female, thinks getting a girlfriend is easy. well, it might be, if I decided to put any actual effort into it

Me: Well. No. Not easy persay. It does require effort. Of course, most of the guys.... Actually, all of the guys who have dated me never put any effort into it. I should make the next guy (if there is a next guy) work harder for it.

Nathan: Hmm-m-m. I'm much too passive. Too non-confrontational.

Me: I'm aware of that, lol. You got my virginity solely because I was so freaking horny, LOL

Nathan: a-yep

Me: That's completely worn off. I'm way to normal these days.

Nathan: That's good, I suppose

Me: Yeah, not useful though, now that I finally have a sex-maniac boyfriend... -_- It figures I'd finally get the nimpho after all my excessive hormones have worn off
Nathan: that would be a problem, yes

Me: If I had met him around the time we broke up... That would have rocked. And I would have ended up sleeping with a lot less guys. *sigh*

Nathan: good to experience many different people, though

Me: True. In reality, I wouldn't take any of it back (except for a few side-lays that were totally ... yucky) because each relationship that lasted a couple months or more taught me a hell of a lot

Nathan: yes, given the chance, I'd take a do-over on my last relationship, but that's about it

Me: Oh yeah? What was your last relationship like?

Nathan: well, put it this way: she was perfect, except almost every word that came out of her mouth was a lie, so until I discovered that, and for that matter for some time afterward, I was in love with her.

Me: That sucks. :(

Nathan: yes

Me: The guy I have now ought to be perfect, but he can't keep a promise. Or stick to a compromise, or stick to anything at all. Well, he managed to work everyday, it's just sticking to things with me that he can't do

Nathan: Well, you're demanding that he change, and I've never known people to actually change when told to. spontaneously, yes. because they want to, sometimes, once in a blue moon. because somebody else wants them to? never. but that's just my experience. your mileage may vary

Me: I've seen people change, but more due to heart break than due to love. Tre changed dramatically when I dumped him. And I changed dramatically when Jeremy dumped me. And from what Crusifer says he changed a lot after Brianna dumped him

Nathan: well, maybe when I say 'spontaneously' I really mean 'unpredictably'

Me: Well I've come to think of changes brought about by break ups as very predictable.

Nathan: do people always change in the same way when broken up with?

Me: No, they don't

Nathan: but that wasn't what I originally meant by 'unpredictably', but I'm willing to pretend it was. a nasty breakup with somebody they love, okay, that's a catalyst for change

Me: Yeah, the being heartbroken is key, not the break up it self

2:30am

Miruna: Try telling him you would like him to drink only [some given amount] of alcohol during some period of time. The smaller the amount and the shorter the period, the better. Make sure the amount is an amount he will think of as 'not enough'. Then bargain until he agrees to drink some amount that is less than he drinks now, but close to what you would actually like. Again, the initial amount should be very small, so you can bargain up to something reasonable. Then, the first time he follows his agreement, tell him how very proud you are of his achievement. That is an important word, 'achievement'. Not what he has given up for you, but how he has succeeded. Not how happy you are with his reduced drinking, but how proud you are that he succeeded.

Me: Initially I was against doing something like that, but I tried that out of desperation some months ago. We agreed on no more than two beers. But I have not been able to get him under two beers. But I suppose the important part of that would be telling him how proud I was of his success. Instead all I did was focus on how I wanted him to quit entirely...

Miruna: Why should he quit entirely?

Me: Because he acts like a moron when he's drunk, much worse than most people. if he drinks more than two beers he loses his memory of what happens completely and he gets violent and angry. After the first half beer he is agitated, and easy to annoy, and then starts trying to make me have sex with him, which would be fine if he was sober... But I hate having sex with him when he smells like beer. And he acts very odd and unattractive after he has been drinking. He repeats himself and loses all ability to be rational after a beer and a half. And besides all of that, a year ago I made it clear to him I would not marry someone who drank at all, so now it's partly principle to insist that he quit. What can I possibly do from here? If I just accept things as they are... I'm not sure if I'll be better or worse off.

Miruna: Perhaps you should ask yourself some questions. These questions are not advice or criticism. They are to help you make certain you understand the root level of who you are and what you want in life. You do not need to tell me the answers because they are for you. Why do you want to marry? Whatever the answer is, ask why that should be so, until you have the most basic cause you can reach. Why will you not marry a person who drinks? Many people drink and behave themselves well. Would a well-behaved drinker be less desirable than a poorly-behaved non-drinker? How poor could a person's behavior be and still be good enough to make them more desirable than a well-behaved drinker? Why is your principle so important? Could your initial principle have been mistaken? Or could it have been appropriate at the time, and no longer appropriate now? And why follow principle if it does not make you happy, and it would harm no one to ignore principle?

Me: Are people more intelligent in Japan or something? No one I've spoken to has been able to talk to me so intellectually about this before. Those most certainly are all the right questions, and I will have to consider each of them for a good deal of time before I can answer anyway. :)

Miruna: In the meantime, from your description, his behavior is not that of a normal person. He might have a medical condition, such as a weak liver. Here in Japan, drinking is a national passtime. Some people here have weak livers. They usually count themselves lucky because they know that they have weak livers, and they can get enjoyably drunk from just a single beer. They do not push their limits, even though that limit is low. Other people need much more alcohol to get drunk, and so they drink more. He might simply need to find his boundary.

Me: Well, three beers is most certainly when the memory thing happens

Miruna: Well, those questions are just related to questions I ask myself all the time. I'm training to become the new Systems Analyst here, and one of the most essential tasks [perhaps the most important of all] is to ask a chain of questions until you can gain no new information.

Me: And everyone here drinks too. It's not just in japan, lol

Miruna: Believe me. Americans have no idea what drinking is.

Me: I love asking myself all the tough questions. Most people can't give me a question I have not asked myself yet, but you just did.

Miruna: I hope they help.

Me: I think I want to marry mostly because I want kids and a family of my own. And I don't want the father in the family to drink not just for me, but for the children's example

Miruna: At any rate, his behavior while drunk is troubling. Alcohol cannot ever actually be a motive. 'That is just the beer talking' is nonsense. Instead, that is the beer stopping someone from closing their mouth when they normally would. So, his behavior while 'drunk' [and I am not sure if he is in fact drunk] is likely a display of how he would behave if he was not concerned for the consequences, for example, you ending your relationship with him.

Me: Which would imply that deep down he thinks very little of me and of life and of everyone

Miruna: A possible explanation might be that he is not in fact drunk [though he might think he is], and he wishes to behave a certain way without having to be thought of as responsible for his behavior. So, pretending to be drunk [and perhaps thinking that he is drunk], he behaves as he pleases, and lets others assume that he is only acting as he does because he is drunk. You can see this behavior in people to whom you give fake drugs when they expect they have taken a real drug. This is why drug trials need to use placebos: if you need to test a drug's effects, you also need to test the drug against a 'drug' that does nothing, but convinces the patient that it does something.

Me: Hm. That's a good thought. I wish I could get him fake beer.

Miruna: You could.

Me: When he actually gets drunk - like when he's past three beers he becomes outright dangerous and scary... He peed on the floor deliberately one time while drunk. He claims not to remember anything that happened that night at all. I could?

Miruna: Yes. They make non-alcoholic and low-alcohol beer in America.

Me: Hm. I'm already talking about 5-8% beers. *sigh* I'm not sure a non-alcoholic beer would really trick him though, since alcohol itself has sucha distinct flavor and feeling.

Miruna: Well, some non-alcoholic drinks are very convincing.

Me: I suppose if I could find one, and then let him think that I'm letting him drink that it might answer a couple questions and solve the problem at once

Miruna: Sorbitol, for example, tastes like alcohol because it is a kind of alcohol. It just does not get a person drunk.

Me: I've read that on a lot of labels before

Miruna: Have you ever known him to drink more than five beers consecutively, or drink some other drink that should be as strong as five or so beers?

Me: It's used in all sorts of drinks

Miruna: It is. It often convinces people on a pre-rational level that they are enjoying a 'big people's' beverage, even if there's no alcohol.

Me: No, he can't handle anything harder than a beer, he'll become drunkenly lost within half an hour with anything stronger than a beer. The time he peed on my floor he had eight beers.

Miruna: Well, try giving him the non-alcoholic beer, or give him low-alcohol beer and see if it takes him longer to change his behavior.

Me: I will try. But somehow I just feel that if we do get this alcohol thing out of the way that we'll find a deeper problem in our relationship. Either that, or the beer is causing a deeper problem.

Miruna: Well, while the beer cannot cause a 'deeper problem', I think you are right that something else is underneath the beer issue. I think it is likely that he likes getting away with things you would not normally tolerate, and as long as he can get away with this behavior, he will be satisfied. But if this behavior is something that no right-thinking person would permit, then you are fully justified in expecting to not need to put up with it.

Me: That's the really tough part. None of his friends mind how he acts when he is drinking/drunk. It's only me that it bothers, but that's because I'm sober, and they're always drunk. At least, I think that is why.

2:30am

Nathan: growing and learning and gaining experiences (of which heartbreak is perhaps a subset) can also cause change. biological changes resulting from adolescence/puberty/growing cause mental change, but that ends once you stop growing

Me: Right

Nathan: but my original postulate remains: people don't change because their significant other wants them to

Me: My grandfather quit drinking for my grandmother

Nathan: fine, throw a counterexample at me why don't you. [considers] Well, the changes you want from Crusifer seem to be pretty sweeping. You seem to want him to abandon his friends and his entire lifestyle in favor of a new lifestyle centered around you. One thing at a time might be more doable.

Me: True. Which is why I offered to him to go out twice a week but to quit drinking. But he hasn't stuck to it at all

Nathan: out of curiosity, do you (or have you tried) allow him to come up with compromises on his own that he thinks he could follow, or do you come up with them and then just get him to promise to abide by them? maybe that's not purely out of curiosity, maybe it's also a suggestion if it's not already your policy

Me: I tried getting him to come up with his own ideas, but he wouldn't. So I just suggest them and ask if they are acceptable

Nathan: This may be key. Probably not, but maybe. He's probably the best judge of what he can realistically abide by, so when you try to get him to come up with a compromise he can live with, he comes up with nothing because there is no compromise he can live with. When you come up with them, perhaps he agrees to them with the intention of honestly trying and then he simply fails to live up to his promises because he made promises he cannot keep.

Me: That pretty much sums it up I bet. He doesn't really want to quit, though sometimes he says he does.

Nathan: He probably wants to want what you want, that is, he wants to want to quit, but he does not actually want to quit.

Me: That makes sense

Nathan: So he promises because of that, but to quit things like drinking or whatever, you have to genuinely want to quit, not just want to want to quit.

Me: Exactly. Like sex, you can't just want to want sex, you have to want it

Nathan: much of what I know about addictions I learned from Infinite Jest, which would have you believe that to break an addiction, you have to have been completely destroyed by it and to need to quit with every fibre of your being. It may not need to be that drastic, but the principle is the same.

Me: I agree. That's what it took for me to quit drinking and smoking weed

Nathan: Right. So we've diagnosed the problem, but there may not even be a solution.

Me: Especially since he's down to drinking little enough that he feels that it's not a problem

Nathan: Right

Me: That's why I'm in such a quandary. It's like either give up (leave him) or give up (stop caring).

Nathan: Sometimes giving up is all you can do. Unless there is some way to make him want to quit for himself, but that probably falls back under the 'change that is unlikely to happen barring outside catalysts' category

Me: Precisely

Nathan: On the one hand: when in doubt, stick with him, you might be able to tolerate it after all and if you dump him you won't get another chance. On the other hand: if in doubt, it's probably not perfect so you should dump him before you pour too many resources into him and find somebody who is perfect. On the third hand: There's no such thing as perfection. I mean, statistically, out of seven billion people, it is extremely likely that there is at least one person who is completely perfect for you in every way, but even if you met a new person every second, it would take 221 years to go through 7,000,000,000 people. If my calculations are correct, which they may not be. And obviously by then the entire original batch will have died and been replaced several times over by much larger new batches! also you're unlikely to live that long, but that's a piddling little concern. I think I have gone somewhat off-message. Too bad I can't remember what the message originally was.

Me: Who cares, I'm laughing. I like laughing. And I meet a new person like once a month.... That's only 12 a year

Nathan: More often than I do, but at that rate that's half a billion years. The earth will probably last that long, though humanity probably won't

Me: heh heh

3:00am

Miruna: Lucky for you, you do not need to worry about whether you are overreacting.

Me: I don't?

Miruna: Unfortunately, he must either no longer want to behave this way, or you must not see him anymore. That may sound unnecessarily extreme, but think about it like this: He likes behaving a certain way. Whether it's because he is drunk or whether he pretends to be drunk for an excuse, he still likes to behave this way. You do not like this behavior.
His desire to behave in this way is unsatisfied if he behaves as you want him to, but you will not be happy if he behaves the way he wants to. People always find ways to get the things they want, if they want them badly enough. He wants to behave the way he does badly enough to risk you leaving him, even though he takes steps to keep you from wanting to leave him. He is walking a fine line, in other words. If he keeps walking this line, you will not have what you want [freedom from this behavior] and he will not have what he wants [the freedom to behave as he pleases]. So he can either change his desires [NOT his behavior], or you can change yours. Or you can leave him. Any other arrangement will be 'compromise', which we have seen is unsatisfactory.

Me: I see your point perfectly. You think I should explain it to him the same way?

Miruna: Unfortunately for both of you, changing one's desires is hard. It often involves a change in awareness, which usually requires unlearning something.

Me: Unlearning typically being harder than learning

Miruna: Absolutely not. Not unless you can either use exactly the words I have [see how I never said anything was anyone's fault?] or unless you want to deliver an ultimatum to him. Ultimatums are rarely helpful, and an ultimatum will not induce either of you to change your desires. So what was the only other option? See why explaining this would be bad?

Me: I see what you mean. Perhaps opening a dialogue with, "I think one of us needs to change our desires in order for this relationship to satisfy both of us."

Miruna: Worded differently, that might be a start. But you have to word it differently. "One of us" will sound to him like "You". But, if you can strictly use language that does not assign blame or responsibility, you still have to be careful. He will want to know why he should even change his behavior in the first place. What evidence do you have that his 'drunk' behavior is abnormal, and what justification do you have for not wanting to tolerate such behavior?

Miruna: Also, why should he change his desires? Why shouldn't you change yours?

Me: Well, too late for me not to say those things. I've already tried the "you drinking makes me miserable" and "you should quit because I feel like you are choosing drinking over me which makes me feel worthless"

Miruna: I do not mean that you should not say you dislike his behavior. I only mean that you should have a reason that either convinces him, or at least shows him that you are so convinced that he cannot argue it with you.

Me: I'm sure I can get him to agree to almost anything in words, but how can I make him translate his words into his actions? I wish I could get him to stop agreeing and promising things if he's only going to not follow through time after time

Miruna: He likely either thinks that you are overreacting, or that your reaction does not matter. I cannot guess which one he thinks, so be careful in your reasoning.

Me: Probably a little of both, but more so on the overreacting

Miruna: Well, you are right. Sound arguments only go so far. However, his actions seem to stem from his desires, which is typical of most actions. He may have conflicting desires, and which ever desire or cluster of desires is strongest at any given moment will likely govern his behavior.

Me: He says to me "why does it matter so much?" pretty often. Ah - that's the key - the given moment. At that given moment he desires the drink, and forgets about me, perhaps? Forgets his promises conveniently? Or perhaps I just want to think that.

Miruna: Please wait a moment.

Me: Sure, I'm beginning to actually get tired. It's about time, being that it's 3:30am

Miruna: I do not think it is a conflict between his desire for alcohol and his desire for pleasing you. I suspect he may have a desire to express power. He likely also has a desire to continue to express power in a meaningful way. He likely does not consciously recognize either of these desires, even though he has them.

Miruna: If his priority is self-interest, he will behave as though his priority is NOT self-interest, to the extent that it benefits his self-interest. So he is as kind as he needs to be.

Me: He doesn't like to recognize his emotions much in general. It's amazing he's come far enough to admit that he "needs" me. I think I've made him depressed with all my antics lately, which may be partly the cause for his actions today. I suppose a bigger hurdle than the drinking is that I really don't know how he really feels. I've assumed that it is a conflict between me and the beer, but you're right, it probably isn't about the beer or me. Since he's an artist, and he has a very slender and small frame for a man expressing his manliness can be hard for him. At least, he thinks it's hard. No one really doubts his masculinity but him. That is, if he indeed does doubt it? Perhaps he just feels the need to show power like you said... Not because he thinks he lacks power, but he thinks other people don't know that he has power...

Miruna: Or because power is fun. Which it is. There are different kinds of power, only a few of which involve inconveniencing or harming people, and only a few more that involve people at all. But they are all necessary to our psychological well-being. Apparently, he does not derive enough enjoyment out of his power as an artist, so he seeks and exercises power in other ways. If he does not reorient his priorities [such as the happiness of people other than himself, justice, reasonability, et cetera] he will behave as he does now.

Friday, May 9th 2008 at 9:25am

I think I may have overreacted Wednesday night (in the wee early hours of Thursday). I thought Crusifer had left work early and gone to hang out with his friends. Turns out that he stayed after work and (according to him) smoked half a bowl of weed and “sipped” on one beer. I can’t blame him for not calling me the hectic happenstance of some idiot tattoo artist who doesn’t follow hygiene regulations that are to prevent customers from getting HIV, hepatis and other blood spread diseases. The man lives in Niagra Falls and claimed to work for Hardcore tattoos (which he doesn’t now, and never has) on the six o’clock news!

Channel two, four and seven news all broadcast this to all of western New York without checking the sources! So of course all sorts of people come to the shop and start cursing them out. The owner is up in arms, and calling the news stations. The employees are confused and discuss the matter in depth and discover that no one that works there has ever even met the guy once. The news stations (all the three of them) come to the shop after the insistence of the owner and they interview the owner and employees. They show this on the eleven o’clock news which is all well and good, but who watches the news twice in one day? Hardly anyone!

They actually interviewed Crusifer, but only the owner’s interview (about two seconds of it) was put on the air. On top of this El (according to Crusifer) was being an ass-hole (probably due to his recent issues with his girl-friend Connie which I heard about also second-hand from Crusifer in vaguest of vague detail) and calling Crusifer a sucker or a pussy or something for not coming out to hangout with them. Which, by the way, he’s been not doing by choice since I told him he ought to go out on Fridays and Saturdays... (Oh wow, I just noticed it’s a Friday, not that he’ll go out, I understand his patterns better and better.) Instead, he stays at work once a week to smoke a blunt (and to sip a beer – though he still claims that he is going to quit and that he wants to quit) and doesn’t call me.

I’m not sure how I feel anymore. I’ve swung back and forth between being royally pissed, blissful happy, utterly disappointed, to completely contented too many times to know how I really feel. The pros are so large, and the cons are so unacceptable.

One large pro I realized this morning is how wonderful it is to wake up to a cup of tea, kisses, and then to be pulled out of bed, brought into the bathroom, and kept company while I brush my teeth and wash my face (and take my morning piss). I also realized how hard it would be to train a new man to do such a thing. Getting to sleep and getting up have been difficult for me since I was nine. I’ve used everything from night lights, to sleep assisting pills, to alarm clocks, to stuffed animals, to morning meals, to men and to sex, (and believe it or not about three times as many more techniques) to get myself to sleep and to get myself up.

I hate both. I love sleeping. It’s just getting to sleep that is so blasted hard, which is almost as hard as getting up.

But anyway, the point I detoured from is that Crusifer was under a lot of stress. He’s afraid for his relationship with me, and with his friends and with his career all at once. I tried to be understanding, but I was so miserable, and so afraid for my life, and so focused on my needs that I couldn’t see through the fact that he wasn’t drugged up, he was on the verge of tears and falling apart all over the place.

I didn’t return him his ring this morning when he noticed that it was gone again. I felt so bad after having such a good morning, and right before he leaves he goes to put it on and it’s not there. I could feel his heart fall into his stomach. I wanted to present it to him right then and there. I didn’t. But I considered it. I need to wait though, I’m being to impulsive. I take every little action as a big sign, and that probably isn’t a good thing. Calm is good. How come I act so calm and feel so scattered?

Cleaning My Closet... My Attic, My Relationship

Saturday, April 19th 2008 at 6:00pm


Strange that as soon as I don’t have a video game I’m addicted to anymore I turn right back to my writing. Then again, I was writing very long winded suggestions in the Saga Forums.


I have cramps, though not as bad as last month. I suspect they could have been, but I did take those pills this morning, and I got some exercise today, and the heat might actually help a bit since applying heat to the stomach (as all women know) soothes cramps a great deal. I’m really too hot to apply any more heat than I already am feeling throughout my body, but they aren’t so bad.

I drove (with my mom in the passenger seat) out to Wegmans to pick up some more organic grass-fed goat-milk yogurt (sweetened with a bit of “organic cane sugar”) as well as some things I’m going to give Tina tomorrow. On the way I stopped at My boyfriend’s work place and gave him some hugs and kisses. Outside Jeremy was there playing hacky sack with Chuck and two other guys I didn’t know. (The card shop is actually attached to the tattoo shop.) I gave Jeremy a quick hug and told him he should visit me sometime this week. I didn’t hear a response to that. Since I wasn’t exactly parked legally I didn’t have time to lag.

I just now returned. The attic is at least ten degrees hotter than the rest of the house even with two window fans on exhaust, foil on the windows, the attic door closed, and another fan blowing towards a window fan. The heat from two desktop computers and two laptop computer probably doesn’t help. I hope the heat doesn’t do anything to the new alien ware laptops. Did I ever mention My boyfriend bought me a laptop? I think that’s the biggest sign of commitment a man has ever showed me before.

Odder than writing so much again, and odder than My boyfriend buying me a laptop, and perhaps odder than Tina having a baby (well, no, not that odd) is that today I saw Jeremy for the first time in months (even if for the briefest of moments) and I spoke to Tre on the phone for the first time in... a year? Yeah, must be about a year. It was shortly after my road trip that I spoke to him last, and the road trip ended in early April of 2006 so that would be about right. I explained to him about not wanting him to come here, and not wanted to meet him in a hotel, even if he is married, I don’t think My boyfriend would go for that, and personally I wouldn’t either.

I told him that I wanted to go to Delaware park. He said he didn’t want to be in public, and I suspect it’s because he doesn’t want old drug customers to see him, but I explained to him about Delaware park’s location, and how it has more private and more public areas to it, and that it’s very large. He sounds just like I remember him, and doesn’t seem to have changed at all really. In a way I’m glad he hasn’t changed, it just goes to prove how right I was not to stay with him (even not counting the fact that I’d rather have My boyfriend over any man I’ve dated, or even met) but in another aspect it’s kinda sad. But what can one really say from a short phone conversation anyway? I’m glad he’s married though, that means he won’t even try anything, and I know I certainly won’t.

It seems like an innocent thing to see him, so why do I feel so nervous about it? They say go with your gut, but my gut has cramps right now, so I can’t really trust it’s inclinations. Well, surely over the next week I’ll have more time to think, to de-cramp and to write some more.

Right now I think I will lay down and read. This is proving to not be enough distraction from my cramps.


10:30pm


Jeremy and Chuck stopped by today. We talked and goofed around for an hour or so, and then they left on their way about an hour ago now. I just wrapped Tina’s presents for tomorrow. I can’t wait until My boyfriend get’s home tonight.


Sunday, April 20th 2008 at 8:13pm


Happy 4:20! I think this is the second April 20th I’m not smoking for. Yeah, go me! My boyfriend celebrated over a blunt with some random people while I went to Tina’s baby shower earlier today. I gave her infant diapers, rice crisps, organic fruit bars, and baby wipes. My mom got her two baby outfits, hair spray and a baby bath with toys. It wasn’t an exciting affair, but it was enjoyable enough. There was fruit to eat and not just junk food, though the only beverages were Soda which I of course did not drink.

Other than that My boyfriend and I have spent the day playing Final Fantasy XI. His white mage is only one level higher than my red mage so we’ve been able to party together, though we were not getting far because of the poor exp from killing the weakest creatures in Kazam. We left our party to go cook apple, sausage and yams together, but as it turns out my Mom already put a container in shortly before we came down. Since we couldn’t just log back into the party I figured I’d work on my game design.

I had severe cramps yesterday, glad they are pretty much gone today. I actually vomited yesterday which is a period-symptom first for me. Though I ate a lot of yogurt (completely organic of course from a grass-fed cow) yesterday which is undoubtedly related.


Wednesday, April 23rd 2008 at 4:37pm


I’m exceedingly worried about my relationship with My boyfriend. I want to say that there is nothing “wrong” with it, that there is nothing to “fix” because nothing is “broken” but clearly there is. I feel the patterns creeping in from the past. I feel my emotions in constant deja vu. I told him last night that I felt that we weren’t going to make it through the summer at this rate. He lied to me. That’s really depresses me. I’m not even angry about it. I’m just exceedingly sad.

In this very strange way I sometimes think that I want it to be over, but then I realize it’s just because I’m afraid that it’s work. I’m always scared of something being work. (Aren’t we all?) Every time I get that inkling in my gut like I just want us to go our separate ways I think realize how much more empty it would feel to be alone, and that’s when the deja vu hits me. I recall having those thoughts about Tre, and then I recall how happy I was to be separated from him. That’s when the analytical and logical self kicks in and starts saying things like “But My boyfriend is a more mature, practical, loving and wonderful person. And Tre was selfish, manipulating, immature and dangerous.” And I listen to logical and analytical self, and I push the feels aside. But the little voice asks, “Then why do I feel this way?”

Is this the same feeling I felt as a precursor to leaving Tre? It’s hard to remember. I’m talking about exactly two years ago, and a completely different mind set than the one I have today. So logical and analytical self doubts that I could feel the same way. I prefer comparing this relationship to my first love... Except that I’m playing Jeremy’s role, and My boyfriend is playing mine. Of course none of that is right, because I’m me, and My boyfriend is him, and now is not then. But logical and analytical self can never stop comparing and contemplating and computing, can she?

I find myself jealous about everything now. I find myself going from apathy to annoyed more and more often, and less and less do I suddenly become happy, and it’s so short-lived. I ask myself if I can break the two year barrier. Perhaps that’s why I insist our wedding date be in April of 2009, because after all, if we’ve made it to two years and four and a half months then surely we can make it for the rest of our lives, right? Perhaps just because it’s uncharted territory it seems like if I can make it there I can do anything.

I find myself having thoughts like “if I just can make it through the summer” a lot. What happens in summer that I’m so afraid of? Bugs? Heat? No, I’m afraid of being social, especially of My boyfriend being social. The more dissatisfied I become the more he will pull away, and the more he pulls away the more he’ll notice all the attention from girls he’s getting. The hotter is gets the shorted our fuses will become. Relationships start up in summer and then fall out the next summer. Why? Because the first summer you’re on the hunt, and then you find them, and then you’re blissful in love, enjoying parks, and walks, and talks and sex. The next summer you’re bored with each other and looking at everyone else wearing the summer clothes at parks, in stores, on walks and you talk to them, and perhaps if you’re the cheating type you have sex with them.

That’s why summer scares me. Summer to me spells hanging out, drugs, sex, staying out late, and laying around because the heat is killing you. Summer is sticky with sun block and sweat. Summer is painful with the sun in your eyes and the stones in your heart. Summer is crushing with all the rush to do things, and all the broken hearts. Summer is crazy with people falling for new people, people lusting after new people, with concerts, parties and weed circles growing, growing, growing and staying out later and later and later.

I had hoped to “tame” My boyfriend with “husband boot camp” before summer. It seems like just last week it was snowing, and now it’s already summer. (I must have missed Spring entirely. If this is spring, then I dread summer even more...) It’s hot, and the flowers are blooming, and I’m seeing more bugs crawling around the room daily. And I feel like the cold is slipping through my fingers with My boyfriend in toe.

Why do I feel this way? He’s upset about what I said last night. He wants to be with me. He’s not considering leaving me. He wants to marry me. He wants to support me. He wants to let me live the type of life I want to live. We both enjoy art, anime, sex, and video games. So why do I feel like something is wrong? I feel like this is the calm before the storm. I feel like I’m anticipating the ground opening up beneath my feet.

The odd part is that I felt the same way four days ago but I couldn’t stop crying and crying and crying about it. Now I feel so ambivalent and near apathetic that I’m more worried. I don’t feel worried, I’m just thinking like a worried person. If that makes any sense. I feel... Timid. I feel very timid and small and insignificant and unimportant.

I think I’m feeling failure. I have not made him completely give up drinking. I have not proved to be more fun than his friends. I have not made him understand that I don’t lie to him or ever make fun of him. I have not made him trust me. I have not made him compromise with me and stick to it. I have not found a system that works. I’m still a shitty girlfriend. Somehow, despite all that logic and analysis implies, I just suck. I feel the suckage.

Oddly I don’t feel ugly, I just feel stupid. I feel like I’m missing the key to my life. I’m standing in a room the size of a closet, and there is a trap door beneath me, but I’m not strong enough to pull myself up off of it with my arms on the walls so that I can open it. And I just know that under the floor I will find the answer... When I’m strong enough to lift my own weight with no firm holds. When I can just push against the walls and seems to levitate... But that will never happen.

Instead I’ll need a pick axe and a ladder. The pick axe to open the floor, and a ladder to climb back out when I have the answer. I’ll probably just find that the entire world is under my floor and that I’d just been in a small closet my whole life... For some reason I feel like that statement should have been funny, but I’m still staring blankly at the screen.

I can’t say I’m depressed. Just nervous. Jittery. Scared of something unseen. If I go on feeling this way I’m likely to start seeing things again. I want a psychiatrist, but somehow I don’t think I could find one that could really help. They probably prescribe me a walk everyday, to make friends, and to take yoga. I can prescribe myself to do that if I wanted. So why don’t I?


Thursday, April 24th 2008 at 12:13pm


Last night something happened that makes me have to question... Things. It’s so odd that I don’t even know how to justify it. My boyfriend got home from work at 11:05pm yesterday, which proves that it only takes five minutes for him to bike home from work. (Which I knew.) And that his nonsense about taking another fifteen minutes to bike home is to stall and smoke a blunt with his co-workers. (Tuesday he didn’t get home until 12:20am, which was a direct violation of the compromise we made three days previously, which was so generous that I couldn’t believe he had already violated it. I’m offering both Fridays and Saturdays with his friends on two conditions, no drinking and staying with me the rest of his time off of work. I’m flabbergasted that he violated it so soon. Not just by not coming home after work, but by drinking and then trying to lie about it!)

Anyway, after he got home he felt like drawing. I told him I wanted to cuddle for a few minutes first. He undressed and crawled onto the bed with me. He’s been like a lump lately, so cuddling consists on him laying near me and me touching him. This is dissatisfying to say the least. Worrying is another term that describes it. But the way his distance makes me feel is impossible to ignore. It’s causing a nervousness in my very center. It’s like my spirit is shaking, because my body refuses to.

After several minutes of trying to get him to show me some love I gave up and we went on to drawing. Drawing... (as he calls me – and we have the best phone conversation we’ve had in days – one that leaves me cheerful instead of sad.) When him and I are both drawing next to each other I get this immense sense of pride and belonging. I feel so completed, so honored, so lucky. It’s not that he’s being cold to me, just aloof. I was able to suck in a lot of that affection that I crave, (need, want, lust for and need at all costs) just by drawing beside him. Especially because he acknowledged my current artwork for it’s amazing qualities. I’m truly amazed at myself.

I’ve learned to put depth into the eyes of my characters, how to put expressions on their faces, how to use positions to evoke a feeling, how to complement their bodies with appropriate clothing, how to shade metal to make it look metallic, how to shade fur to make it look fuzzy and touchable, how to shade cloth to make it have weight, how to make up muscles and bone structures on mythical creatures, how to shade in perspective so you can tell what is closest to you, how to fill an entire sheet of paper, how to put in highlights where the belong, how to draw a woman’s profile... And it’s all because of him. I probably would have gave up art altogether if I had not met him.

When he tires of drawing he pulls out his journal (which reminds me that I need to see what he wrote) and he writes for around ten minutes, scratching away... He obviously knew exactly what he needed to get off his chest when he got his journal because he barely paused at all the entire time he was writing. Then he pulled out his book and read for a bit. I felt close, even though he was distinctly distant... Not sure how that works, but I could feel his love through his mask of melancholy.

Then we agreed on playing Final Fantasy XI together, and since he knew he was a long run from where I was (and we wanted to party together) I told him I’d cook for us while he ran to where I was. I don’t like cooking alone without his company, but last night that didn’t really seem to bother me. I cooked myself one sunny-side up egg with a slice of toast while cooking him three eggs with chopped peppers, bacon bits, two slices of cheese and a myriad of seasonings.

When I returned he was sitting at my computer. And oddly a folder named “Tre” was up, and I was confused at first because I couldn’t figure out what folder it was. He said to me “I was just looking at it because it was up” which then really confused me. How does a folder called “Tre” with four files in it (his journal entries copied from his diaryland journal written in 2005, and saved to my computer in January of 2007) just get opened? I was bewildered and told him I didn’t open it.

He didn’t argue with me and call me a liar, but I know he must have been thinking it. I can’t imagine that either of us (as computer illiterate as we are) would accidently open such a folder. Odder still it was open from the “my computer” application, not “windows explorer” which is what I use. So the only logical conclusion is that he was snooping my files and lied about opening it. But why would he do that? I’m more apt to think that I somehow accidently opened it while using Word Perfect... I mean, if he was snooping my files I really wouldn’t care, I have nothing to hide.

But if it really was up when he sat down here, and he didn’t open it, then he’s going to wonder why I would lie about opening it. I feel like somehow some silly mis-click is going to backpedal all my work at proving that I would never lie to him.

Did I mention we made love before that? We made excellent love last night. My period came on Saturday or Sunday, I forget which, and not that I mind the blood at all, but some odd reason sex on my period is painful and scratchy. I wonder if the blood drying against the friction causing the pain? But that can’t be it because it still feels that way a day after the blood is gone...

Anyway, it was right at the cusp of a new menstrual month, the bleeding gone light, and I was going to wait until tomorrow, but oddly I was overcome all yesterday. I masturbated twice in one day which I never do. I mean, perhaps once in six months. And odder still, I was still aroused when he got home. I suspect it was a combination of a few things. For one thing, I forget that I have not lost my sex drive entirely, it’s just that it seems nonexistent next to My boyfriend’s ongoing desire that only takes a break for about half an hour after sex. Half an hour later he has a boner again, and really would prefer us to make love again.

In light of that, I realize that whenever we don’t have sex for four days, I’m ready to go, which means next to his preferable three times a day, mine is once every four days. And compromising down to once a day is our usual, but it leaves him less than satisfied, and it leaves me more leery towards sex because I don’t enjoy it as much... It’s hard to want sex when you feel like you just had it, like you’re already full from the last time.

Last night though, I was on fire in a way I have not been in a long time. I was kinky in a way I haven’t been in a long time. Was I craving him all the more because of his recent rejection of me? Can I call it rejection to refuse to caress me?

This brings me back to my mental illness. That’s how I think of it now. It’s a mental illness the way I crave to be touched. My entire childhood I rejected hugs, I rejected touching, and then around thirteen I became a touch-aholic. What happened? I was so depressed, so hateful towards myself until I feel in love with Jeremy, until I had someone to touch me, but it was never enough... They always get sick of me, every one of them. And they always say the same thing “I like to be touched now and then, but you always want to be up under me. Maybe I don’t want to be up under you all the time!” Jeremy said it, Tre said it, and recently even beloved My boyfriend said it. And now it’s really pissing me off. My boyfriend, Mr. Different, Mr. Right, Mr. Perfect-for-Me, is falling out in one of the things I fell in love with him for in the first place.

Finally! Finally I had found a man who never grew tired of me touching him, who never grew tired of touching me! I was saved, my illness was being treated, and I became so blissful and so happy. Little did I know it was just that normal “I just met you, so I’m crazy about you, so I need, need, need to touch you right now, and now, and now, but in a few months I’ll stop” that happens to seemingly everyone in the beginning of a relationship.

To hear those words out of his mouth was like a slap to the face. I raged at myself “You stupid idiot! How could you believe that he really was like you! Atara, you’re a really stupid bitch aren’t you? You fell in love with another man who will never feel like you do, who will never understand, never care...” I think the pit of my nervousness is how he doesn’t want to touch me. I feel sick.


Thursday, April 24th 2008 at 2:12pm


Nothing like some hard work and music to make you feel better. The office is coming along quite well if I don’t say so myself. As some of you may not know, when I was fourteen we had a house fire (due to an inhabitant of the attic who was an attractive lady of thirty who thought she was another fourteen-year-old, perhaps my twin sister in her eyes, but in mine... Well, let’s skip what I thought of her) that burned off half the attic. The part that burned wasn’t much of a loss to my family, just to the rambunctious inhabitant of the attic. She lost everything she owned, as well as all the things she “borrowed” from me and my family. The 8-balls, my favorite scarf, several pairs of my jeans, and so on. The real damage was from the smoke and water. What the fire didn’t do to the rest of the house, the water (from the firemen’s truck) did. The smoke got the rest of the attic in a thick coating of black soot, and the floors and walls on the second floor were completely ruined from water damage. The living room towards the front of the house, and my parents bed room, also at the front of the house were the only things virtually undamaged.

The dining room floor and walls, the father’s office’s floor and walls, and the hallway’s floor on the second story of the house all needed to be torn out, and rebuilt. And my crafty parents did this themselves instead of hiring a contractor to do it with the money allowed from the bank. Most of this money, unfortunately was spent on paying various cousins and friends ten dollars an hour to sit around and smoke cigarettes, eat our food and do a half-ass job of everything they were supposed to do. (Come to think of it, they did redo the walls in my parent’s bedroom, I remember Roy – my half brother – coming down to Buffalo to do it.)

The first floor of the house, the dining room that is, was the first thing to be done, which became my cousins bedroom while he worked. My cousin Trevor used to be a serious druggie at the time, but he seems to be doing better, no he’s engaged to some woman with a young girl in Texas, and currently my brother Roy is staying with him, now that he’s separated from his third wife, luckily he has no kids with this one. (Incidently he had to leave because of her kids disrespecting him, and her not stopping them.) Then the second floor was done, and the location of the laundry was switched with the location of the bathroom, and the laundry (the previous bathroom) is no longer really a room, but rather an open area conjoined to the upstairs hallway and front stairwell.

At about that point we moved back in from the temporary apartment we lived in for nine months. My parents moved back in a week before I did, and during that week I met Tre, and we enjoying living in “our” own apartment for a week. I felt like an adult then, I remember. When I moved back in I didn’t move back into my own room, and I’m not sure why. I don’t really remember the details of it, looking back on it, it doesn’t seem to make any sense at all.

I moved into a room adjacent to the dining room on the first floor, and made aspirations of moving into the attic, which was one thing that was not done at all. I aspired to more space, and more separation from my parents. My old bedroom was adjacent to my parent’s bedroom, the next door down the hall from them. Perhaps it was the lack of a door on my old bedroom? I doubt it though, probably was still under construction, but I really don’t remember.

It took another six months to move into the attic, and at that time I merely was able to throw a knee wall up (with some help from my mom) and lay some floor tiles (with some help from my dad) and throw some drywall up (with barely any help at all) and plaster (with a lot of help from my mom) and paint (with hardly any help at all) and to finally move my things up there (by myself of course) and pretend that I had more room. Of course I didn’t, and at the end of the floor tiles was boxes of who knows what, tools, materials, and all sorts of junk.

Slowly I’ve crept half way through the attic, the part with the higher ceiling. I have a makeshift bathroom that only gets hot water (which means it’s icy cold until the hot water arrives and then it’s steaming hot) because my Mom hasn’t had the time or energy to string another pipe for cold water to come up here as well. There is a tub sitting next to my toilet, but it’s not functional in the least, and it’s full of my cleaning supplies and other tools. Over the couple years I’ve lived up here two sets of shelves have been put up, and everywhere but the bathroom has floor tiles, and I’ve attained a large amount of plastic sorting drawers, two tall ones for my clothes, several half the height filled with gift-wrapping supplies, cleaning supplies, my stone collection, more clothes, sewing supplies, scrap-booking supplies, markers, tape, pencils, pens, scrap paper, sketches, printer paper and so on and so on and so on.

My room is organized, it’s livable, it even has a tiny office. The office consists of my desk (bought at a second-had store for forty to one-hundred dollars, I don’t remember how much, but it was a steal) which is designed for the times before computers, so it’s small and simple, and My boyfriend’s desk, which isn’t a desk at all but rather it’s made up of two of my mom’s old identical coffee tables sitting next to each other. You can’t get your legs under it, which is the real problem with it. This allows My boyfriend and I to be close while we’re at our computers, but it’s a rather pathetic and annoying set up.

But there is still one part of the house that has never been redone. We call it “the back” which is short for “the back of the attic” which doesn’t really mean anything, because it’s actually at “the front” of the house. It’s above my parent’s bedroom which is above our livingroom. It’s only “the back” of the attic because the stairs to the attic are located in the back of the house, making it feel the actual back of the attic is the front, especially since it’s where I live.

The back of the attic (I’m not going to start calling it the front just because it is the front, so from now on, just know that I mean the front of the attic in reality) was in total shambles when work began on it over a year ago. It was piled high with garbage, boxes of books, assorted tools and all sorts of other junk all piled high on top of each other. The worst part? All of it filthy with black soot from the fire. Even the inside of the boxes is covered with soot. It smells, and it’s dirty, and your hands turn black within five minutes of work, and your nose clogs up with black soot from ruffling things, and you blow your nose to find that the tissue is turning black, and you cough up black spit. It’s disgusting, and no one wants to do it.

Tre never really helped with any of the household work. He avoided it like the plague, and I don’t blame him for not wanting to do it, but I do blame him for leaving me to do it. Let the white girl who grew up in this filth deal with this filth forever why don’t ya? No, no, Mr. Strong Ninja Jamaican Man can’t put his manicured hands on that sooty old crap that belonged to my parents, not even if it would benefit him in the long run. (I’m actually snickering as I write this. The same guy that’s going to college to architecture and construction now...)

My boyfriend can actually see much more space we’d have. Our living area would actually double. True, the walls are slanted, but so what? That just means we walk down the center of the room and store things at the triangle-shaped edges of the room... The real prize is the area right above my parents’ bedroom. At the very “back” of the attic there is a flat wall, and the floor is much lower, creating more head room. That is where our new office will be. The entire path through the back of the attic at the moment has boxes or storage on both sides, but it used to be much, much, much worse. I can finally say that the soot is only left in about three boxes, and on one wall. That’s all that’s left of it!

My boyfriend carted out about fifteen, perhaps twenty soot-covered boxes last week, and about six months ago (maybe earlier, I don’t remember) another twenty to thirty were taken out. Now on one side of my future office it’s clean all the way to the very corner where the slanted wall meats the floor. I’ve painted the old shelves black after scrubbing them clean this week, and now I’ve moved my CD player back there. Yes, it’s moving along nicely if I don’t say so myself. Mark my words, I will have my dream office built before October.