liar

okay.

i just did something that i know was wrong of me to do.

and it's one of those things which, once you do, you don't like what you learn but are nonetheless both enlightened and also stunned to learn.

dimples left her crackphone on the counter while she went to take care of her kid's potty urges.

i was in the kitchen clearing away dinner dishes.

and i peeked at the still-lit screen. i couldn't help myself.

it contained a list of all the people who had most recently texted her.

i saw my name in the middle of the list. i had texted her to let her know that, as agreed, i was making dinner, and it'd be ready at 7:30 p.m. one or two names above mine was his name. and there was a line from his latest text message that showed beneath his name.

it said:

you are quite right. you don't want to kick abbagirl out of her own home.

that text has floored me.

i wish i hadn't seen that. and yet glad i did.

but what the fuck does that mean?

ever since i found out about this whole affair, i have been the first to say, "hey. if you ever want me out of the house, just say the word. i have no qualms about staying somewhere else for the night." i have lots of family and friends who totally would not mind me crashing at their place for a night or two. it's no big fucking deal. the last thing i would want to do is be a hindrance to their whole fucking relationship. this isn't even my fucking home! i never call it as such. i always refer to it as "the house." even when i'm talking to dimples, i never say, "hey, i'll see you at home!" i say, "i'll meet you later at the house!"

kick me out! i don't fucking care!

on second thought . . . i think she is using me as an excuse.

whenever i have offered to leave the house so that she can bring him back here for a night, she has always told me, "no, i'm not ready for that."

i was never sure if she was lying or not, when she said that. so maybe she wasn't. but she's still lying to him about the reasons why she won't bring him back here.

maybe that's it. . . .

but no wonder he has been pretty much more unfriendly to me than i have been to him. i actually make an effort to be nice and civil and appear unchanged in my interactions with him. he doesn't.

and maybe it's because he sees me as kind of a cock-blocking obstacle. . . .

but some cock-blocking obstacle i am. they are seeing each other tomorrow night, i'm sure. but dimples just lied to me about it. she said she will be working at her other job tomorrow night. i think it's a total fib. i think she'll be staying at his place tomorrow night.

fuck her.

is this what we've resorted to now?

from lies to blunt truth, back to lies.

when dimples came back into the room, i told her that i was gonna stay away for the weekend. she seemed surprised. she doesn't like to stay by herself at the house. she gets paranoid. "i'll only be gone tomorrow night to work," she said lamely. "i'll be around saturday and sunday."

"cool," i said. and i said something else harmlessly. but i didn't say anything that would indicate that i would change my intentions due to these revelations.

i know where you're going tomorrow night and what you'll be doing.

what's the point of all that? you want me to trust you, trust in our friendship, and then you go and do that. you lie.

i'm so over this.

stress attack

i swear i get at least one each month. i get to a point where i'm in such an agitated state that my heart starts beating frenetically and hard, my blood pressure goes up, and i am in a tense state -- almost to the point of tears.

the one i had yesterday was probably the worst one i'd ever experienced thus far. and the causes are not only things stemming from my relationship with dimples -- as friend and roommate and former hook-up -- but also from the office, the other people at work, family, and a whole host of other issues and side issues.

i almost can't deal.

i should not care so much. i shouldn't care about maintaining good relationships with all people. i shouldn't care about what i think i should do to make life easier for others. i'm only one person, and i'm not responsibility for the well-being, success, and happiness of other people and things.

i tried hard to remind myself of this yesterday as my nerves frayed to the last thread. but it was just hard to extricate myself once i was mired deep in the middle of things.

one of the things that caused me to suffer some internal fits yesterday was . . . i saw dimples and her lover in the same room at the same time for the first time ever, since finding out about their relationship.

it was hard.

i'd seen him around here and there earlier in the week. he never really talked to me. i would say hi and do my best to act as per my usual with him -- light-hearted, easy banter. but it was hard, and i could feel the smile on my face being forced.

it ended up being more effort than he put forth. he would just smile and walk away.

he knows i know. and i'm sure it's discomfitting to him because now the secret is no longer contained between two people but three.

i don't give a fuck.

but as hard as it was to try to engage in usual, normal interaction with him when i would randomly see him on his own, i couldn't take it when i saw the both of them in a larger group setting, an informal office surprise birthday party, joking easily between each other, cracking each other up, with everyone else so oblivious to the deeper, closer relationship they had.

i couldn't take it. i stayed as long as was polite, until the end of the birthday speeches, then left while everyone else started filling up on grub and cake.

dimples and i have stopped talking about that relationship. sometimes his name will come up in conversation when we talk about random things going on at work, and i will grimace when i hear his name or hesitate before saying his name myself. but otherwise, the topic is avoided. i know that they haven't really had a chance to go out (and fuck) in a while, due to dimples' crazy, hectic schedule. and i've been hoping that he will get sick of waiting for her and break things off in a huff. but hey, this is dimples here. i swear, she has at least five people in love or lust with her -- at least whom i know of. there is just something about her. . . .

anyhow, after i left the office birthday party rather abruptly, another co-worker friend called me at my desk on the telephone about 20 minutes later and softly asked if i was going to get grub, since everyone had already finished eating. my stomach was doing quite a number; i have been nauseous practically non-stop these past two weeks, and another friend noted concernedly that it seemed like i was losing weight. but i forced myself to cheerily say that i indeed wanted to grab a plate of something and went back down to the party.

everyone was still there but had already eaten their fill. i immediately saw dimples and her lover. they were seated near each other, looking as nonchalant as ever as they mingled with other co-workers. i had to grit my teeth and swallow down the turbulent nausea that seemed to want to lurch into my throat and force myself to get a plate to fill up with food.

this past week or so, when i have not seen him or seen the two of them together in one place, i have thought i could go back to normal and pretend nothing was amiss. but i'd still see her furtively checking her cell phone. and i can't not think about it nor forget.

nonetheless, i thought i could deal.

but seeing them yesterday . . . it's a million new stabs to the heart.

fuck 'em.

being deprived of sex with him these past few weeks, i feel as if dimples is started to check me out more and more. it's not purposeful, though. i know it's an unconscious gesture she is unaware of doing until after the fact, and she happens to bring her eyes up to mine and see that i noticed every movement of her eyes. but i never say anything.

i know she does it because it has been a while since we have been together, and when we were, it has never been bad on her part; she has always cum and cum pretty hard whenever i fucked her, if i do say so myself. and often more than once within a short span of each other.

well, she knows where to find me if she wants me.

but i won't be second fiddle. i won't be the second choice.

and that's what i feel like, whenever i see her eyes flit down me. i feel like she's only checking me out because she hasn't fucked the other guy in a while and is feeling horny.

he's the barrier, and he's in the way.

and i just keep hearing dimples' voice in my head . . . she recently said, after that one night when she and i sat down to rehash this whole situation and try to understand each other: "we will never be together, abbagirl." her voice was frustrated as she said this. and she also said that very same night, "you are such a burden to me."

i keep hearing these things in my head . . .

fine, then.

but there are other ways of defining "burden." she seriously thinks this whole thing, her fucking with me this whole past year, has not been a burden for me, too?

we will never be together.

fine. you're right.

always the do-gooder

i went to see my therapist earlier this week.

didn't really get a chance to talk with her, though. i was supposed to be there only for a very brief sketch of my issues, but the focus was supposed to be the processing of my paperwork.

but i still went into my issues a bit. and i could tell my therapist was fascinated.

it's not every day you come across an azngrl you presume to be straight but who blatantly asserts she is gay and that she has a roommate whom she has fucked and is in love with and who invited her to be in a threesome and who also tortures herself with mental images of her roommate fucking another guy she knows.

it's all very compelling drama, i'm sure.

i am still pretty fucked up.

there are glimmers when i think i can do this. i can be her friend, help her out, give her relationship advice so that this things she's got going on with this guy, whom i know and who should totally fucking thanking me for patiently counseling her, and not go mad.

but those glimmers are so few and far between. it's hard. it really is fucking hard.

who does this? i am a fucked up person. what person, in her right mind, would have bumbled down upon the very same road i did in order to get to this point?

who?

she and i spent most of the day together today. we were traveling together, working together. it was a long, long day. when we got done with our off-site work, she drove us back to the office. there were times when we looked at each other, in between moments of conversation, and she looked like she wanted to kiss me. and she made some random comment about me smelling good.

it's the sort of stuff that gives hope to a plaintive heart.

but i'm not buying it. i can't.

months ago, these things would've suckered me in -- hook, line, and sinker.

but this time, i won't give in.

i want to.

but i won't.

i have to say she was amazing in action today. she knows her stuff. she is astute and a leader. i just kind of took a back seat and watched her.

i was impressed.

as she took charge, i also checked her out. i couldn't help it.

and i have to admit, just seeing her in action, i just wanted to throw her on the table and fuck her.

i think i understand the dynamics of how she works.

i don't think she is using me, per se. i think she cares a lot about me. i think she is still attracted to me. and i think she would still love being friends with benefits.

but the real reason why she likes being with me is because of the control factor.

i have given her a lot of control.

and the main thing that is so important for her to control is her pride.

she has never had to make a fool of herself in front of me. i have done that more than enough on my own. i'm the one who forsakes pride for the sake of another. but she has never done that with me. in fact, other than her daughter, i am probably the only other person over whom she has, whether implicitly or explicitly, consciously or not, exerted quite a bit of control without having to make much of an effort. and i also let her keep her pride. i don't let her make a fool out of herself. i don't let anyone make a fool out of him-/herself. but in the end, that only makes an ass out of me.

i can't believe how good i was -- at least for a while there. we had such a good, albeit tiring, day working together for a common purpose. then we came back to the house, and it became, in good part, all about him. the other guy. the man she's fucking. the guy to whom i've always been friendly to before but, if i saw again, would not be very pleased. but i'd be expected to fake it. pretend nothing was amiss and that i actually still like him. and by doing that, i'd be showing my approval.

i gave her advice about him. advice that someone should have given her about me when she and i were dating. advice about not losing her temper and playing it cool and not saying something that would ruin the relationship all because of her friggin' pride.

i gave her such good fucking advice.

and it seriously was a hard thing to do.

after that conversation, i got all quiet. she and i had drunk a beer when we got home. i opened a second and got all moody. i've been drinking at least one bottle of beer every night for, i dunno, a long time. and not eating. i can't help the moodiness. . . . but she noticed and asked me if i was mad. i denied it. but she didn't really talk to me after that, so i'm sure she knows i'm still in my mood.

she can't have it all ways. she can't expect me to be her friend and confidante and give her great relationship advice that is only guaranteed to prolong that stupid relationship she has with him that has been driving me nuts and be happy about it. she cannot be fucking stupid about how i feel at this point. especially not after the things we have said to each other about it and my honesty with her on this topic. i will do what i think is the right thing, which is help her, as her friend, find her happiness. but i cannot fucking lie and suppress my emotions when they bubble to the surface and cannot be suppressed.

she cannot have it all ways.

i am at the house tonight. but i am staying away this weekend. i will not be here. i'm going to make plans and keep myself busy and get both physical and temporal distance from all this bullshit.

one day at a time. i can do this. i can do this. i can do this.

fuck this shit.

unsent

an anonymous comment just now prompted me to go through this blog's archives. i wanted to go back and re-read some of the stuff i've written about dimples.

i've gotten over her before; i can get over her again.

i found this one post i had written but never published. i wrote it as a letter to be unsent, and it was written in february 2009.

reading it has -- given me more clarity.

here it is:

dear dimples --

there are times when i think this could work.

we can just be friends. we can just hang out. we can bitch to each other about our lame bosses, co-workers, and work. we can trust each other and know that we'll be there for each other.

but i have to do a lot of double-checking of myself.

i have to tell myself to just relax.

i've been letting you be the one to initiate all contact -- have you noticed? sure, every once in a while, i'll be the one initiating. but mostly, i've gotten myself into passive mode, and you have been the one to take initiative.

i've been excusing a lot of your behavior. i know you've got a lot going on -- your kid is your priority, you've got people in your life who create drama. i know that, if i call or text you out of the blue, 90 percent of the time i won't get a response.

that's just how it is.

this friendship of ours -- it works. it works because we both want it to work. we have also seen each other at both our best and our worst, in ways and depths we've shown no one else and that no one else could fathom. and we've emerged from it as tight as a pack of wolves.

i know you like the back of my hand, as you do me.

that being said, do you know that i am now afraid of you?

i'm afraid of getting too close to you -- again.

i'm afraid of catching a whiff of your scent, that elusive, wonderful, familiar scent of yours -- it sends me into a tizzy inside when i catch that scent.

i just don't want it to happen again. . . .

because of what we've been through together, you're now one of my best, most closest friend. i love you as a friend. i can't imagine not being able to continue sharing secrets with you, being around you, seeing your daughter continue to grow and get bigger and create her personality/

but at the same time, just being your friend can hurt.

as your friend, i only want what's best for you. i know you need my friendship as much as i need yours; ours is a unique friendship.

but can i keep at it like this for long? sometimes i wonder . . . .

you've made it clear that you don't want to get completely drunk around me anymore. you seem to not mind what happens when you get drunk -- but the repercussions of my emotional attachment makes you wary about ever letting yourself drink to that point again. i know you'd want to, but only if the sex was meaningless and didn't get in the way of our friendship.

i don't ever want to not be your friend. i enjoy your company and conversation way too much.

we seemed to have moved beyond the stuff we used to argue about before -- me being an elitist snob who doesn't comprehend the difficult lived realities that "real" people suffer. or me trying too much to "save" you and "help" you when you don't need saving or helping. oh, i know i still end up unthinkingly saying things that you think are elitist -- i see the shadow fall over your eyes when i do say certain things. but you bite back your response while i wince inside.

maybe we're not supposed to be friends. we're just too different. i feel myself changing and trying to conform to what i think you want me to be -- more colloquial, more "street," less wordy, less serious, less self-involved. i don't think you like me as much when you remember i've got more education than you.

maybe this isn't supposed to work. maybe we're supposed to have enough of each other by now.

maybe.

you've hurt my feelings more times than i can count. you've let me know often enough that, while on paper, i may be better than you and other people we know because of the education i was "lucky" to have, in reality, i'm worse than scum because of my "cluelessness" about how "real people" suffer. you flake out on me quite a bit when we make plans to hang out.

as a result, i'm doing what i have to do -- which is try to be your friend while also trying to keep myself detached.

make no mistake, i want to continue being your friend, dimples.

but why does it have to be so damned hard sometimes?

the cliche of the pining romantic

i've gone and become a pathetic cliche.

i haven't been eating. i've got that gnawing sensation of hunger in my tummy. but no desire to eat. the idea of eating makes me nauseous. all i've consumed today are 1/5 cup of coffee, a taro boba drink, and a corona with 2 lime slices.

yesterday, i had 1/2 cup of coffee, a couple of shrimp chips, and a corona.

i've been treating her differently. and i'm sure she's noticed. but i don't think she gives a fuck. she keeps her cell phone grasped tightly in her hand at all hours. even when i can't see her, i can still hear her tapping at it, texting him.

she's head over heels.

fuck her.

it all just makes me reassess even my friendship with her. even as friends, things are not equal. i always put her before me. her comfort, her needs, her propensities take precedence over mine. when i thought there was still a chance that she would be mine, i saw it as just a necessary sacrifice on my part for a greater good -- her.

and now i see it's all for nothing. her ideas of friendship and what makes a good friend are totally and utterly different from mine.

case in point:

there was an emergency today with one of my dogs. i drove to the vet's office straight-away. she told me she would come, too, but that she would drop her kid off with a relative and meet me there.

thanks. that's great. i appreciate you coming along. i really do.

we were hungry. we had missed dinner, and by the end of the visit to the vet, we were starved. she said she would pick up some food that her relative had cooked; she had smelled it when she dropped her kid off, and it had smelled delicious. i smiled politely and tried to demur the food, but she insisted so i agreed.

i went home and dropped the dog off there before heading to the grocery store to pick up some food for him. when i got back from the grocery store, she wasn't there.

in fact, it took her over an hour to get back.

it should've only taken maybe 30 minutes.

when she got back, i had actually been about to cook my own grub.

she had already eaten.

she was late because the relatives had kept talking.

i politely took the dish she gave me, and i started to put away the pan i had just greased up -- as if i were gonna eat it.

but when she wasn't looking, i put the dish in the fridge.

she did notice after a few minutes, though, so before she could ask me if i was going to eat it, i told her that i had already nibbled on stuff and wasn't as hungry anymore.

i don't want to eat it.

i know it was really nice of her to bring me back the grub. and she did accompany me to the vet.

but as a friend, i would have taken a different approach with regard to the food.

i would've hauled ass fast.

i wouldn't have taken the time to enjoy the food and satisfy my own hunger first when i knew my friend was also hungry and waiting for that same food.

i would've said, "i'd love to stay and chat, and thanks so much for watching my kid, but my roomie's really hungry, and i've got to get this grub to her fast."

two very different definitions of friendship.

and yes, let's not go into the whole thing of me wanting to be more than just friends with her and having a different perspective on that, compared to her. that's a whole other issue there.

this is just a small example, but it really does represent my relationship with her on a grander scale.

she's looking out for her. and i've been looking out for more than just myself.

she was checking me out today. it was hot today. i wore a hot pink tank top and dark jeans, but when it got unbearably hot, i shucked the jeans and put on some short shorts. i wore them to spite her. and they worked. she checked me out, her eyes darting over every exposed and unexposed patch of skin.

i said nothing. but i know she knows that i was aware of her eyes.

and it just makes me shake my head. she got her brains fucked out all night last night by cock. she's totally head over heels for the guy. but she still checks me out.

she can't have it all. i'm not going to give it to her. i'm not going to ever fuck her while she's with him, if ever again. i won't do any threesomes with her. she cannot have it all. she cannot keep doing this to me.

i need my shrink. i've been dying to talk about this to someone -- anyone. i almost can't handle not being to talk.

i'm going mad.

devastated and destroyed

my chest is heavy and hurting right now. the left side.

my heart won't stop its slow but joltingly hard pounding.

boom . . . boom . . . boom

my best friend. my most trusted confidante. my roommate. the girl i'm in love with.

she's seeing someone else.

a man.

someone i know.

someone from work.

and she likes him.

she really, really likes him.

i just found out last night. dimples had invited me to come and hang out with her. she had gotten off work early because she was owed time. so she had gone to have lunch with a male friend of hers, an ex-boyfriend, with whom i have begun to be friends with as well.

by the time i arrived at around 6:30, they were well on their way to having fun. but, dimples had assured me before i even arrived, she had not and was not going to get drunk until i got there.

when i came in the bar, i looked around for them. i spotted dimples first; she was standing at the bar, ordering some drinks. i came up behind her and put my arm around her to hug her, and said hi. when she realized it was me, she squealed excitedly and gave me such an enthusiastic squeeze back. it made me laugh out loud. we were just so glad to see her.

i was in a good mood. i'd had a tough week and a tough day and was just so glad to be there with her and to have the chance to drink my stress away.

she ordered some drinks for me, and i helped her carry them back to the table, which was already covered with an empty pitcher and empty glasses. we sat down and started talking about work, our day, etc. since it was a casual work-day, i was wearing low-cut but casual shirts: a long-sleeved navy henley cotton-knit hoodie and a green vee-neck tee over it, both of which cutting low enough to give a glimpse of cleavage. i saw dimples' eyes dart down my shirt straight away, and it made me feel warm; it'd been a while since she had openly checked me out like that. and it didn't take too long before she was telling me:

"there's something i wanna tell you. i've been wanting to tell you. but i'm afraid you're going to judge me."

she kept saying that over and over. i wanted to know what she was going to say. i felt that her words would be important, monumental. i wanted to know.

but she didn't say for a while. it was like she couldn't. all she kept saying was that she didn't want me to judge her or think differently about her.

that whole time, it was just me and her at the table. her friend and his friend were off playing pool. but then they came back and interrupted. i was annoyed; i wanted to know.

they left, and she and i just began talking again. but not about it. and i don't remember how long it took, but she finally said it, loud and clear enough for me to hear her over the joint's loud murmur of voices:

"i've been fucking _____."

the world came to a halt inside me. i heard yet wasn't sure i really heard. "say again?" i said.

and she said it again.

i was stunned. it was him. she was fucking him. she was fucking him. she was fucking him. she was fucking him.

i could not say a word. but i didn't have to. her friends came back to the table, and something in me went into automatic mode. i pretended that i had not heard the most devastating news ever. i started joking, faking laughs, gazing too intently in the other friend's eyes. i was angry, crushed, numb, feeling like my mind was hurtling a million miles ahead and that everyone around me had slowed down to the point where i could see and know what they were going to say and do before they even did it.

i know dimples knew the impact that her news had on me. but she played it off, too. or tried to. i could feel her eyes dart to me when she thought i wasn't looking, to check out my mood and emotions. and even when she wasn't looking at me, i knew she was still watching me. i got drunk fast that evening. drunk enough that my actions and impulses slowed down, but my mind was never dulled.

i ignored her a lot. and i know she realized it. nonetheless, there was some in-between time when she and i were left alone at the table while the other two guys went up to shoot some pool. and during those times, we did not talk about the secret she divulged. just other stuff. for instance, there was some talk about having a threesome -- me, her, and her friend/ex, with whom i had become friends with, too. "he likes you," she said. she knows that i like him, too, and that i think he is attractive; she's told me she relayed that information to him.

"what do you think?" i asked her. "do you really want to do it?"

"if it's with you, yes," she said simply.

throughout the rest of the evening, i could tell that her ex was serious about it. i saw how he stared at me as if he wanted me. and it got to the point where we were finally at the house i had agreed to share with dimples as a roommate, and i could see him for what he was -- carefully trying to manipulate the situation to the point where we would all three end up in bed together.

but the shock of dimples' news, which i had forcefully tried to ignore, would not disappear, and i was in a bad mood myself. although i said nothing, i know dimples could feel my mood, and she did what she could to not meet my gaze. and she was aided in her endeavor just by the fact of how drunk she had gotten by night's end; she just kept closing her eyes, looking like she was on the verge of passing out.

i took out my annoyance on her ex. but it wasn't that hard to do. he was pissing me off.

for some reason, the issue of my income and debt was brought up and discussed. apparently dimples has told him a lot about me. even right now, i can still see his eyes intent on mine as we stared, hard eyeball to hard eyeball at each other in the dimly lit living room. and it makes me mad at his presumption.

i have a regular salary -- one for which i am grateful for, especially after having sacrificed a lot of my income-earning capacity for the sake of studying for stupid bar exams. i make more money than dimples. i started at a higher wage bracket than she because i have a college degree; she doesn't.

this is actually an issue that has come up before between me and her. in her eyes, she's a have-not, and i'm a have. the way she talks about it sometimes is that it's not fair that there is a discrepancy between me and her. it's not fair that i was "allowed" to go to college, go to law school, etc., and have so much education while she didn't. these discussions are always bad because she is quite passionate in her opinion that i don't really know what it's like to suffer and to work hard for peanuts, and it puts me on the defensive and makes me upset. her life is hard, but mine, although different and although i do have more schooling, etc., wasn't a walk in the park, either. and it is just a mutual, silent consensus to generally not talk about that topic anymore, although she will bring it up every now and then when she thinks i am being too "elitist."

anyhow, her ex. basically, his position is that i make a lot of money. i should be having fun with the money.

"what money?" i said. "my paycheck is basically gone within the first two weeks of each month because of rent, expenses, bills, student loans, and other necessaries."

his advice? "why are you even continuing to pay your bills? just go have fun with your money."

so we talked passionately about that. for the record, i prefer to be in good credit standing and not just completely renege on my bills. and then he also insinuated that, with my money, i should -- as in, i have an obligation -- to be using my money to pay for him and dimples to have fun, too.

i am pissed. livid. what the fuck!

i am the sort of friend who pays for everyone's fucking lunch, dinner, and drinks. even when i was fucking poor, i would throw everything on a credit card and still pay. ever since i became dimples' roommate, i have paid for a lot of shit that i don't ask for reimbursement on. i give her my share of the rent, and i trust her word when she tells me what my sum contribution for the month's utilities is and just give her the money. i buy all the groceries, i pay for lunch, dinner, and drinks when we go hang out, i buy shit for her kid, i do all sorts of crazy assed shit with my money because that's just what i do. i don't need to be told to help pay for my friends to have fun.

and this ex boyfriend of hers, he has been a recipient of that as well. i have gone and hung out with him and her several times now, and each time, i have payed for his brunch, his drinks, his food, and his good times. i know i make more money than either of them, and he has always taken my generosity with feigned modesty, but i have always detected a note of pleasure in him that he did not have to pay. so i don't need to be told. that's what i do.

but even if i didn't, i don't need to be lectured on what to do with the money i earn.

this ain't your money, son. you want some money, stop fucking drinking all the time and get a real fucking job. you don't tell me what to do with my money, so fuck you and go to hell.

so he's on my shit list.

and fuck no, you ain't gettin' no threesome out of me.

they eventually left the house together, good riddance, and then i drunkenly went into the shower, then went to bed.

even as drunk as i was, dimples' news still gripped me. i couldn't take it. i can't take it.

she's fucking him. she's fucking him.

their faces kept wafting before me as i tossed and turned in bed. i was exhausted, drunk, and need sleep -- but just couldn't get there. no wonder . . . . whereas before, she had always talked and joked about him as part of our usual chatter about the people we work with, she had stopped talking about him recently. the last time she and i fucked was in july, and she had not wanted to fuck me since, although i saw a few lapses here and there where it did seem she wanted me.

i saw his face in my mind. how dare you, i said in my mind. how fucking dare you -- that's my girl. i imagined them kissing, fucking. i wondered if he was good and how much she enjoyed it.

i could feel my body recoiling. i was hurt and stunned, and for the first time, i was also completely turned off from her. i would never fuck her now, even as much as i still love her. his fucking cock has been in her, pounding her. she's been invaded. she's let someone intrude into her body. she's spread her legs for him, and she has enjoyed every fucking minute.

even now, i have to swallow all my emotions down. they're a hard lump in my throat.

i don't know what i was thinking. i agreed to be her roommate months ago because i saw it as a way for me to be able to spend more time with her. and it's been great because i have been able to spend more time with her and get closer to her and love her even more. but i know i also did so and that i have been spending so much fucking money on her and her kid and her day-to-day needs as if that could ever be a way for her to fall completely in love with me. . . .

this is a fucked up situation. i know i've done it to myself. i know the right thing to do would be to get some space. leave the roommate situation. stop thinking about her.

but at the same time, she is my best friend, and we have grown to be so close to each other. i don't want to lose that, either.

she and i spoke quietly to each other throughout the day today. finally, in the evening, we talked. we talked about it all.

she said she'd wanted to tell me about it, right from the start. but she didn't because she didn't want to upset me and also because he had asked her not to say anything. she agreed to the secrecy because it could have a lot of repercussions at work, but she said she agonized over the fact that she could not tell me.

they've been seeing each other for two months. he treats her well. she likes him and appreciates his gestures. they didn't start fucking right away. he'd been asking her out for a long time before she finally agreed, and they went on a few dates before they finally started fucking. she's been seeing him at least once a week for the past two months, and they spend at least 5 or 6 hours together. she really likes him and wants to keep on seeing him.

that really is more of an effort on her part than what she did for me. might be because her kid is a year older and because she can count on a dependable roommate and other family members to help out. might be because she likes him more than she liked me. . . .

i know she loves me. i love her, too. but my love for her is a little deeper than her love for me.

actually, i don't get how she sees me. as we talked today, she said a few times that she was not sure it would work out with him. i feel like she said it more for my sake rather than for the sake of truth, but whatever.

"so what about your ex? the threesome? were you serious about that?"

she started to answer, then started laughing. "were you serious?"

i laughed, too, and said, "i asked you first!"

she softly stopped laughing and said seriously, "i think it would be fun." she paused. "it's not that i have stopped thinking about fucking you. i still think about fucking you, as much as ever. but . . .girls are different. they have a lot of emotions involved." and i know she was talking about me and that she was right. and that she knew and has known exactly how i feel.

"i'm jealous," i told her. my voice was cracking, so i tried to smile. "i'm jealous of him."

she seemed to look pissed. "are we ever going to get over that?" her voice was hard.

"i don't know," i answered honestly. "but that's just something for me to get over. you know i'm happy for you. i'm glad you've found someone who treats you so well and who you really like."

we got into a kind of argument about that. "why you gotta put that on me?" she said, angrily. "i don't want to be held back by that."

"how is that even holding you back?" i countered. "you do whatever the fuck you want. you obviously are already. whatever issues i've got, i'll deal on my own."

then we talked a lot more -- about him, about other things. at one point, i made a crack that she thought meant that i wanted to fuck her guy. her face instantly grew hard, and although she was smiling, she said, "i will fucking kill you."

i stopped, confused. "because i said ____??"

then her face loosened and she laughed again. "oh! i thought you said you would fuck him!"

i stared at her aghast. "never! i don't do peen!"

but that part of the conversation is something i've replayed over and over in my head tonight a lot as well. it's just really eye-opening for me. this whole time, i've taken it for granted that we would be friends forever, no matter what.

but the truth is -- apparently -- the opposite. there are limits, at least on her side, to our friendship. for that one second when she thought i had said that certain sentence and her voice had grown hard, i saw what that limit was. and i'm hurt that she would ever think i'd entertain that notion and hurt that she really would kill me or call off our friendship for any reason.

it's just making me re-think my friendship and relationship with her.

hurt. hurt, hurt, hurt.

a world of hurt going on inside me now.

i'm hurt she didn't tell me for two months. hurt that she misled/lied/hid important things going on in her life while i have continued to be nothing but open and honest. hurt that she can so freely move on and have fun and date and fuck other people while i have, obviously erroneously, changed my whole life and daily schedule and spending habits for her sake.

stupid. i am stupid.

she is with him tonight. i am sure she's staying the night. i want so bad for them to not work out. for them to break up. but i told her today that all i want for her is to be happy, and that if he can make her happy, then i would be fine with it. and that's true. i want for her to be happy.

but where does that leave me? i am so sick right now of looking out for other people's happiness. i am completely overwhelmed with sickness about it.

this is just a complete fucking mess. how can you really like a guy and be open to having a serious relationship with him, while still fucking jonesing to fuck your roommate, and also be entertaining the notion of having a threesome with an exboyfriend and your roommate?

fucked up.

so i am not at the house tonight. i am elsewhere. i may decide to stay away from the house the whole weekend, and to hell with her. i don't want to be there, thinking about her being with him and enjoying being fucked by him. i don't care about her bullshit. i am sick of giving up so much for her in return for so little.

i need a shrink. i need help.

good thing i got my appointment scheduled for this coming week. i can't bear this shit.

my chest hurts so much right now.

jealousy

she's gone out on a date with someone. a guy.

it sounds like she likes him.

i'm writhing with discomfort inside.