irreparable

i am kind of fighting off a buzz right now. i have had -- mmmm, maybe three glasses of wine. i was done for midway through the second one. the third one was just a bonus. imagine me saying all that i am now going to say with a slur in my words. yes, i am that far gone.

talk about finding reasons to not be roommates. a reason has just pretty much fell in my lap.

of all the things to say. there are many things you could have said to finally put the nail in the coffin. there are ways of letting me down easy, and there are ways of letting me down hard. either way, those are ways of letting me down, period, whether easy or hard, and i would get the picture. but what you are saying makes no sense.

i am feeling very embarrassed. i am very close to tears. i don't want any words of i-told-you-so or i'm-sorry-but-it-had-to-be-done from you, dear readers. i know you have been saying it all along, and i have tended to nod and agree with you while still sustaining this hope, which probably means i actually did not listen to you at all nor pay attention to your words. but now, of all times, you don't have to say a word, and i already know what you are saying.

based on what was said tonight, i have no reason to be here at all. no reason, except by virtue of choice. i would be choosing to stay here, despite all else. i have had two therapists, now, tell me the same thing: "why are you still living there? it makes no sense, and it is only to your own detriment. you need to leave and take care of yourself."

i am actually fighting back tears right now. i never had tears before when i was writing about this. there were no need for tears. but i have them now. they are being wrenched from me.

if you want me to let it go and not be like this, why don't you stop doing this to me.

it just makes me wonder why i have gone so far above and beyond for you than what i would ever have done for someone who was just a friend. what makes you so special that i would want to do such things and that you would accept such gestures as just a friend. there has been a disconnect not only in how i saw and reacted to things but also you.

why? why . . . ?

my self-esteem . . . is kind of crushed. you can reason with me all you want, and take most or all of the blame onto yourself. but i still can't help but feel a setback for me, personally. a big one.

i was devastated before. but i feel even worse than that right now.

slapped

in the face again.

crossroads

these are uncertain times for me.

i'm not sure what my next steps should be.

i'm kind of scared.

escapee

i'm in l.a. i'm on a self-imposed exile. a temporary excursion to escape my small, petty problems.

she's at his house tonight.

i thought a road-trip would be just the thing for me. hitting the road to flee the demons. when you're on the road, always up ahead lies your unseen but still desired goal. somewhere, out there, even if you can't see it, is your destination -- a tiny pin-prick up in the distance. but you hurtle yourself towards it, towards the horizon, in pursuit of it and only it. it promises completion. finalization. oblivion. enlightenment. nirvana.

forgetfulness.

forgiveness.

i felt like crying as i drove. but the tears never really surfaced and, to this very minute, remain unspent.

i realized why i crave road-trips so much, especially when the going gets tough. it not only offers a physical means of escape. but they also wear me out. i crave the introspection as well as the physical exhaustion. to have every muscle gets so pained from the tension and stillness that driving requires, and also my mind completely worn out from running through the same thoughts, ideas, opinions, theories, and imaginings. i try to drive for as long as i can go in one sitting -- two hours, three, maybe four -- before giving in to my body and pulling the car over to a rest stop for respite. it's only when the physical pains and discomforts match those that i feel internally that i can call it a good trip. and what a way to get perspective on things. with the chaos that i know goes on inside my own mind due to my chronic over-thinking and over-worrying, i need that perspective. i need something to distract my physical body to let me know i only have this one body cavity for life. that i need to take care of it. and that no matter what people do to me to cause me pain inside, i just gotta keep on living.

now that i'm hundreds of miles from home, i . . . really don't know what to do.

when i left, all i want to do was get away. and now that i got away . . . i don't know what to do.

all i know is that i am here. and she's at his house tonight. i drove out hundreds of miles away to clear my head, and no one knows where i am, let alone gives a damn.

and that, more than anything, finally says a lot for me.

*laughing quietly to self*

she lied to me about it again, btw. but i don't give a fuck anymore.

things were good between us the past few days. we talked and hung out as best friends and roommates do.

and i knew she was planning to see him tonight but didn't say anything.

before i left on my road-trip, i asked her if she was going to be okay at the house by herself while i was gone; she hates and is scared of sleeping there by herself. she said she would be fine and that she would probably spend the first night i was gone at her parents. but i had already known at that time that she had made plans to spend the night at the other guy's house and knew it was a lie. and from my silence, i know she knows that i know. but i let it go and just said "goodbye." and she said goodbye, too.

i've already told her: don't lie to me. either tell me or don't tell me something. but don't lie.

she lies frequently. she always used to lie to other people in order to spend time with me, when we were together. so i know her ways. to see her use those lies on me now . . . . she would say that she only lies to me to protect me. to that, i would say that she lies to protect herself, and that it is a sign of disrespect and lack of trust and friendship on her part towards me.

but hey, maybe i'm just being judgmental.

:-T

my mom is bemused. all she knows is that i have randomly decided to go off somewhere. i know she was going to try to stop me before coming to the conclusion that it would be futile and i am a grown-assed adult already and i should be left to my own devices, even if what i do does not make sense.

after i checked into my hotel, i spent the evening watching basketball on t.v., and towards the end of the denver nuggets-l.a. lakers game, i decided to draw myself a bath.

i haven't taken a good, old-fashioned bath in quite a while.

when there was enough hot water in the tub, i disrobed and let myself sink inside the tub.

it felt great.

when i get back home, i am going to be a new me.

i'm going to stop being so dependent on my relationship with dimples.

i'm going to be a newer, fresher version of myself.

i'm going to be seeing my new therapist.

i'm going to have an open mind about the possibilities and opportunities i have before me.

did you know . . . with all the energy i've expended in being miserable about dimples, i never really rejoiced in the recent news i've received about being promoted.

yes, me. i. i got promoted. as soon as the last of the paperwork gets finished, i will have my job classification upped one level and receive a small salary bump as well.

no, it's not attorney-hood. but hey, i do still make a somewhat decent living, so i can't complain.

:-T

just goes to show how consumed i've been with the negatives lately. there are other positives in my life to be had.

girls.

i think i'm done with them.

:-T

stagnant

although i am now going outside my health services provider network in order to get therapeutic help, i still have to wait until my first appointment, which is scheduled for early next week. after doing research on therapists who do business in my general locale, i settled upon an older woman who looked nice and seemed like she'd be a good listener. her name is foreign-sounding, but when i talked to her on the phone, she had no accent. there was just something about her picture that i've fixed upon -- something intangible. i think it's because her eyes looked astute and alert.

after i settled upon this woman, i sent her an e-mail early in the morning, and she responded via telephone call when she got to her office early in the evening. she apparently has office hours only in the evening, which of course works for me.

even though it's been a few weeks now that my body and mind's been on this high-anxiety alert, i feel rather deadened. like, i'm already over it. these past few weeks of just stewing on my thoughts and emotions, with no outlet except for this blog, kind of has desensitized me to the problematic nature of my relationship with dimples. there are certain things i dread when i interact with her, and yet i'm so used to feeling that dread. and i have lost the urgent need to talk with someone about her . . . .

but i know i will anyway. i'm quite looking forward to my first visit with the new therapist. in our introductory conversation over the phone, she stated that she tends to see patients as frequently as once a week. i kind of winced when i heard that but said nothing. i have no intention of seeing her once a week. the website that i found this therapist on lists her customary fees as between $100-140. when i called her, i knew i would be forking over at least that, just for the sake of being able to talk to her. but i cannot afford to see her once a week.

the lengths i go to, to find a friendly, helpful ear. . . .

:-T

it is possible that, upon hearing my story, my therapist may coax me into the decision of leaving this house, of no longer being dimples' roommate.

believe me, i have entertained the thought.

but it'd be hard.

in one of our more recent heated discussions, dimples pretty much suggested it as well. she had tears in her eyes and her teeth were gritted, but she said the words, "maybe you should think about leaving. you can't handle me moving on with my life and seeing other people, and i can't handle having to worry about your feelings all the time. . . "

after we each had had our say and the heated discussion cooled off, i asked her simply, "do you really want me to move out? i can start getting my stuff together." and she said, "no."

so much baggage. so many emotions, all wrought out over one person. . . . what the fuck. what the hell.

i'm off work today. sick. been sick all this week. i had been looking forward to this particular week because i had requested thursday off previously, and with the furl0ugh day this friday, i would've been able to have a five-day weekend. i had been eager to hit the road and go somewhere -- anywhere. the destination wasn't as important as just the ability to get away. i wanted to get away from her, from here, from everything -- and just be on my own a while.

but coming down with flu symptoms since after my 5k run on saturday has slowed me down a lot. i'm better today and am looking forward to hitting the road later on today if not early tomorrow morning. but it was just not physically possible even as soon as yesterday.

of course, a part of me doesn't want to go anywhere. there is a nice long weekend -- a part of which i could be spending with dimples and her kid.

but i can't. i won't.

because while i'm spending those parts with them, another part of me will be wondering when. when is she going to spending time with him?

i know if i leave on my road trip tonight or tomorrow morning, i will never know for sure if she spent the weekend with him.

and yes, that possibility that they will be spending time together . . . bugs me. it shouldn't, but it does.

and yet that is even more reason for me to hit the road. right? if these thoughts are still in my mind, if i'm still feeling jealousy at the very thought of them together, then i just need to go and not look back. i need to learn to stop caring. i need to stop having my feelings tied so intricately to what she does, who she sees.

she's right. it is none of my business if she dates, who she dates.

i gotta let it go.

there are other worse things coming up around the bend for me to worry about -- studying for the february bar again and another major decision that i have to be making again pretty soon.

i cannot let myself be tied down by these petty human engagements.

my health care provider sucks ass

number of days it takes between intake and your first scheduled visit with your therapist -- 20.

amount of notice received for your therapist canceling on you -- 0.

number of days until your therapist's next available date to see you -- 24.

total amount of relief felt when you just go ahead and schedule an appointment with a therapist not covered by your insurance but whom, based on your research, you know to be familiar with dyke/women's/ethnic minority issues and who also seems to have a rather nice face --

-- priceless.

a day off from work

i have had a busy morning.

i ran three miles. went to visit my eye doctor. went to the tanning salon. all by 11:30 a.m.

dimples and i had made plans to take a trip out into the country along with her kid.

i had been reluctant about going. i did not want to go when she was still fresh from fucking that guy.

but after that heated argument she and i had a couple of days ago at work, i knew it would look bad if i didn't.

the heated argument was about him again. and me and her. i don't know if it really resolved anything, but we both had to get stuff out of our systems.

today, it looks like our plan for driving out into the country have fallen through, and it's a no-go. which sucks for me because i had come back to the house and am there right now. but at least i would not be carrying on the farce of pretending all is good and well when they no longer are.

she looks great today. very well put together. her skin flawless. when i went to take a shower to finally wash away all the sweat from my run this morning, i saw a vibrator in the shower stall. not just any vibrator, but the one she and i had bought together just half a year ago.

i don't want to know.

but apparently she had a good time with her man all night into morning.

i'm okay, though. i'm fine.

going running helped me a lot. it focused my mind away from the here and now, and all i concentrated on was maintaining the rhythm of my limbs, controlling my breathing, striving to last even longer -- just another five minutes, just another quarter of a mile, just another minute.

it was just the thing i needed after how my morning started out. i was in a cranky mood, and i got cut off by a car that refused to merge in behind me (i had been driving at a faster speed, with the flow of traffic). so i started honking the horn obnoxiously -- long blaring honks -- and flippin' the bird. and the smug-assed, obnoxious cunt who had cut me off slammed on her brakes right there in the middle of the road (this is a single lane, two-way road, by the way, with a 55 mph posted speed limit), and gets out of her car to yell at me. it was one of those black chicks with the long, fake nails that have gold detailing. she started yelling at me that we could take it to the side of the road if i wanted, and i yelled at her to get her dumb skanky bitch ass back in her car and get the fuck out of my way. she finally did so. but you can imagine the state i was in when she finally took off. the cunt then proceeded to drive along at less than 50 miles per hour, so i just kind of rode her ass for a while. seriously, if she can afford to cruise along at less than the posted speed limit, then why'd she cut me off in the first place, as if she had been in some great hurry? just ease your ass into the clear and empty spot right behind me!

fucking cunt.

so at the next four-way stop sign, less than half a mile away, i waited to see which way she would go. i was planning on making a left-hand turn so long as she just kept straight -- that way i would be rid of her skanky obnoxious ass forever. i think she was waiting for me, too. but finally she just headed straight, and then i turned on my left-turn signal and proceeded in that direction.

punk ass skanky piece of shit. what a waste of life and space.

yeah, anyhow -- so that's why the run was good for me.

the trip to the tanning salon was the best, though. i hadn't gone in about a year. and so i know i needed it. i needed the chance to simply lay back, be warmed, be embraced by the engulfing warmth, and let my mind relax.

it was great.

i let myself get into a deep state. in my mind, dimples was standing in front of me, with a knife in her hand, raised in the air to plunge in my torso, in my heart. with each breath in, i saw her arm raise up anew, and with each breath out, i saw the knife come streaking down at me towards my chest. but in my mind, each time that happened, the knife didn't penetrate the skin. instead, the knife's blade crumpled like paper upon contact with my skin, and i remained intact, whole, and alive.

i can do this. i can detach myself. i can let her try to hurt me, but i can also try to get myself to emerge unscathed.

i can control this. i can control how much i hurt and how much i let others get to me. i don't have to be the wounded animal every time.

right now

she is entertaining him at the house.

he is going to eat dinner there tonight.

then they are going to fuck.

and then they are going to fall asleep together.

i, of course, am not there. i am staying elsewhere tonight.

i should not be bothered by all this. it should be old hat. they've been seeing each other for three months now. i was oblivious for two of those months. and nothing about our friendship had changed, really . . . .

but it does bother me.

i hate to begrudge others when they are having a good time. and i especially should not begrudge dimples for her good time.

but it's hard not to. it's hard to relax and just let things go.

. . . . . . . .

unsent -- again

dear dimples –

 

what the fuck is happening.

 

i almost can't deal.  i want to talk to you about it.  but i know we can't.  we both would get upset, angry, emotional.  say hurtful things.

 

you lied to me about how you would spend your friday night.  i know you did.

 

so that's why i decided to take the whole weekend for myself.  that's why i was not at the house for the halloween party you threw for your family.

 

my thing was, i have done so much for you, gone out of my way so much for you.  then you hurt me and i began to feel like you have been taking me for granted.

 

i put you and your kid first.  always.

 

and when you lied to me, not just before but also after you told me about your relationship with him, i saw that you didn't put me first or second or even third or fourth.

 

that hurts.  you have no idea how much that hurts me.

 

it's not fair for me to always be the one going out of my way, going out on that extra limb and be barely hanging on with my bare fingertips just to be there for you.

 

it meant a lot when you told me, last week, that you would not have been able to get everything you needed done without me.  that's the first time you ever acknowledged it.

 

but i just don't like being told stories to.  i feel like i am no different than the other people you have told stories to. 

 

i don't need stories.  i want . . .

 

i don't know what i want.

 

to go back to how we were, before you told me?  before i found out about him?  when you were lying to me and i somewhat suspected but was otherwise ignorant?

 

to move on?

 

to just be roommates and not even friends anymore?

 

i have been really distant with you the past few days.  and i'm sorry.  but i'm doing what i can to recuperate.  i need this time.  but i know you don't understand.  you think that things can be as cool and laid-back and as full of trust as before.

 

they can be. . . .  but i need time.  is that not fair? 

 

you've broken my heart yet again.  i need time.

 

i know it's not fair of me to tell you all these things going on in my head and yet still be acting distant with you.  i know that's what has precipitated our little near-shouting match when i called you at your desk phone.

 

that near-shouting match highlighted a few things for me:

 

first, you don't really know me.

 

second, you are frustrated with me, so you want to pick fights with me.

 

third, i'm not the only one who needs time.  apparently.  we need time.

 

first, you don't really know me.

 

this becomes more and more glaringly obvious the more we start having disagreements about work, co-workers, and other things.

 

you don't know me.

 

you jump to conclusions about what you think i'm thinking.  and then you ream me hard for thinking those alleged thoughts.

 

i am sick of having to defend myself.  i am sick of trying to patiently wait for you to stop yelling before i can let you know you're wrong.

 

just thinking about those yelling matches, especially that one today, makes my stomach queasy again. . . .

 

i don't have to agree with you on every point.  i don't have to agree with your opinions about other people.  i don't have to like everyone you like or dislike everyone you dislike.  i'm not saying you're wrong about them, but neither am i saying that i'm wrong about them.  people are just . . . like prisms.  depending on your vantage point, you will see the light bounce off the prism in certain directions.  but the reflections won't be the same on all sides.

 

you will see certain things that are good and attractive in some people as well as things that are horrible and unattractive.  from my vantage point, i will see the same things, and they may seem the same as or different for yours.

 

in my head, it is okay to have differing perspectives.

 

why can't it be okay with you?

 

not only that, but what's up with jumping to conclusions about what i think anyway?

 

just because i personally like someone doesn't mean i think they are necessarily geniuses at what they do.  they may be dumb asses for all i know, but when i only see one side of that person and i happen to like what i see, what's wrong with that?  i will, of course, take your perspective into consideration and will be put on my guard about it, but i will not shun or dislike that person just because you do.  if that was the case, then it should be a two-way street.  you don't talk to the people i dislike, either.  like only the people whom i like.  but doesn't that sound fucking ridiculous?  seriously!

 

second, you are frustrated with me, so you want to pick fights with me.

 

i am not giving you the courtesy of being honest with you.  but in my head, i am only doling out what i get. 

 

but you are not aware of that.  you only know that i've been distant.  i have not been mean, i have not been cold, i have not been disrespectful.  all weekend, i've answered your text messages in a timely manner, and i have acted pretty friendly, as if nothing has happened.

 

the only thing is that i don't initiate contact anymore.  and when i need something work-related from you, i've asked politely.  but you can't say that i am rude or disrespectful.

 

but i know you've noticed the change.  and i can't help it.

 

i thought we were friends.  okay, i thought we were more than friends – i thought we were friends who were fuck buddies who had the potential of growing into a more serious relationship.

 

i was wrong.  and i am dealing with it.  i'm moving on.

 

you – you led me on.  then you lied to me.  then you told the truth.  and then you've begun lying again.

 

what am i supposed to do – be fine with that?  now that i know better?

 

i can't.

 

you hurt me so substantively, so tremendously, that it may take me months to recover.  you've taken a whole year of my life, knowingly playing with my emotions, then lying to me.  this is not something i can just get over in a day, a week, a month.  do you not understand this?

 

obviously, you don't.  obviously, you're short-sighted enough to think that i am just being fussy and withdrawn over nothing and am such a girl and that there is no rhyme or reason to me.

 

but in my head, this has been a long time in coming.  and in my head, it only makes sense that i dish out what i have gotten from you.

 

if you are going to hide or lie, i will hide and lie.

 

if you are going to cover up what, to me, is an important part of your life – your relationship with him – then i think that entitles me to do the same.

 

karma.  you and i have talked about karma before.

 

this is karma coming right back at you.

 

i know what you would say.  your relationship with him has nothing to do with me.  that has not changed the dynamics of our friendship or our status as roommates.

 

and yet . . . yes, it has.  for all of the reasons outlined above, it has.

 

so you picking fights. . . . i know it's because you are oblivious to all this and so you are trying, whether consciously or not, to find valid reasons to get mad at me and take out all your anger on me.

 

i know the time is coming when we will have to have a talk about things.  in fact, i am thinking that, tonight, it will come.

 

i'm scared about that.  but prepared.

 

i don't know what i'll say nor how much.  i just know it will come.

 

and for me, even though it hurts to acknowledge, i know it just means that

 

third, i'm not the only one who needs time.  apparently.  we need time.

 

it hurts me to even acknowledge this.

 

my biggest fear is that maybe our relationship was just so flitting and insignificant to you that, once we take time on our own to let things die down for the sake of coming back together as better friends than before, you will be gone.  you won't want to save the friendship.

 

it took me so long to get to this point.

 

and yeah, i know . . . for what?  you never really wanted to be more than fuck buddies.

 

nonetheless, i worked hard.  i felt like your earning your trust was one of the more important things i could be striving for.  i have sacrificed a lot, in ways that are quantifiable and not, to get it.  and now . . . i still don't want to lose that.

 

i know we will talk about it.  i hope you at least try to understand my point of view.  i know you would want to hear what i have to say.  but hearing does not necessarily mean understanding.  and that's what i hope for – understanding.

 

it's only fair because, as hard as it may seem to you . . .

 

i do understand your point of view.

 

with much love always, even now –

 

abbagirl