2003-03-27 - 6:11 p.m.
'no one's truly content to be alone'"one part of me just wants to tell you everything. one part just needs the quiet. and if i'm lonely here, i'm lonely here. and on the telephone you offer reassurance ... and how can i hold the part of me that only you can carry? it needs a strength i haven't found." ~toad the wet sprocket
The other night I was up until something like six a.m. and I wrote this entire entry all about Jerry. And how I hadn't even thought about him since October. But suddenly a dream brought him all back. And I wrote all about how I miss the boy he used to be. The one who wrote my birthday cards on old Christmas cards. And the one who used to care about me. And who would tuck me into bed.
Of course, my computer froze before I got it posted. And it disappeared into that special oblivion for unread words. Thinking about it, I feel like it was probably one of the best things I've written in a really long time. But that's usually the case with words sent spiraling. The ones we lose forever are the ones we think were the best we'll ever write.
I recently reread 'Writing Down The Bones' and in it the author talks about how as writers we need to learn to let our words go. No copies. No reprints. Write something spectacular and give it to a stranger. Just let go. I could never do that. I obsess when I lose my words. For me, I suppose, it's like lost children. The way mothers might feel in an empty nest. Lonely and like the best thing they ever did is gone forever...
Anyway, enough of all that.
I woke up this morning with a hangover. And though I didn't dream about water, something tells me I've been drinking too much lately. It's a part of it (the depression). I know it is. And I also know that the day you realize something you're doing could cause some real damage, is probably the day you should cut it out. I probably won't though.
With that said, let's recap last night.
First though, some background information. I have this unnamable thing for Mat. I can't really decide what it is or why it won't go away. It just is. And it just stays. Like it knows it belongs here or something. Because it's been here from the beginning. Also nagging me from the very beginning is this unshakable feeling that he just does not like me. And I really hate hanging out with him, because every time I do the unnamable thing just gets bigger. I like him just that little bit more.
Also noteworthy is that Penny's pretty much a raging bitch when she's on her period. And I feel like she intentionally picks at those things she knows I'm sensitive about in some morbid attempt to bring me down to her level. Or something. I don't know.
So the story goes, we're all going to go out to this bar. And before we even go, Penny starts prodding my Mat buttons. Feeding into my insecurities about the way I'm sure he hates me. Like when she knows I'm totally missing and obsessing about Brandon, so she tells me she saw kids playing Frisbee Golf. Why tell me that? So that's the backstory before the story-story.
I'm basically on edge.
Get a few drinks in me, i get positively weepy. For no reason really. It's just sometimes, out of nowhere, I'll just hurt. It crawls up through me and gets lodged in my throat. And I can't help it.
And I know that sometimes I really expect too much. But sometimes I just need some reassurance. Sometimes I just need someone to say the right fucking thing. Do we're talking about this whole thing with JD. And how fucked I feel. And she's playing the 'you need therapy' card. which, yeah, I know. But damn, did she really need to say that to me right then. The rest of the conversation is pretty much a blur, because she kept saying, 'You're not listening.' So I stopped listening. Except for when I said, 'I just don't want to feel like I'm running away.' And she says without a hint of consideration for me, 'Then don't go.' Like it's all that simple. Like my life should just be what it is here. That I should suffer through, knowing that I can't-slash-won't make it here. Not now.
So I just have to stop. I need to realize that there are certain things that I cannot talk to her about. Because there are some things that she doesn't understand. And apparently it fucking kills her to even try.
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