Index - Profile - Archives - Notes - DiaryLand - Random ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I can't not. It certainly makes me look like an ass to update now, after I've said I'm taking a break. But there's too much to say, and it's got no where to go. I woke up this morning anxious for an answer to a question to find nothing. I had a cheerless ride to work, but no one tried to kill me. I walked to my desk, with my head hung, as my lovely co-workers asked me what was wrong. "[Prolific] broke up with me. If you can call it that." "Oh, honey!" all around "Why?" "Well. I don't know. I mean, he said he was fed up, but I guess there's more to it. He's supposed to call me tonight." So, after almost crying, I flipped the No Emotion switch and went about my day, making fun of women without teeth giving blow jobs, talking about Sam's dating life, and complaining about a particularly ancient outstanding subpoena. I thought I was holding up, but then I saw my answer, and I broke down. . . . I'm not going to understand it. I don't fit into anyone's definitions of mature or ready. For anything. I can't say magic words to change this. I can't debate it with logic, or manipulate it without making myself ill. I can't argue my side, for the other side is already set. The circle closes again, and I'm left wondering why. How many times I've heard "I'm not ready" I can't count. How many times I've heard "It's not you" is lost amongst the ranks of assholes that have passed through my life. At the end, what binds the circle is the feeling that there's something wrong with me. I seem so easily replaced. Don't argue. I prayed all the way home some token of a make up for a mistake would make it's way to my house and all would be forgiven. It wasn't so. I ask you, would one be considered mature if you caught them making fish noises on the phone? Or making up songs to get a laugh? I can guess at what is really behind everything, and make more of an enemy out of you. Your not ready is your not wanting. Your lack of maturity is a ready excuse, and one that someone used on you to leave, came up handy now. Your fed up is your exhaustion at your situation, and I am the most likely cause of grief and boredom. My anger comes in waves, quiety when the tide is ebbing. I'm sorry and glad you're leaving here, I feel threatened already. And I thought I was adult enough to get into a relationship or out of one if my needs were not met. But you didn't give me a chance to figure that out, and you left before the really rough road, left me to fend for myself. I want you to know that in order to break the pattern, you had to stay in. You had to work a little, and bend a little, and give me a day when I could be comforted in my bed by you. You had to love me enough to try. That would break the pattern. Unfortunately, you've taken the same road as everyone else. 6:01 p.m. - 2003-04-03 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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