c'est fini

Hey. well this is stuff that I'd like to document, but not necessarily remember.

Last week a weird blur. Last nite october snow? Yesterday 1st day of period -- hormones raging. Weds night I was screaming at Rem "IT'S OVER." Last night I was screaming "I fucking love you - I FUCKING LOVE YOU." And then went into the kitchen, smashed a tea cup and broke the handle on a casserole. Like in a fucking rage.
It's all a contest -- who can scream louder -- who can interrupt the most. Mostly fighting is so useless. The same patterns, same circles into nowhere. Sad.

Why I went into a rage is that Rem likes to prescribe emotions to me. Something I've come to recognize as mild emotional abuse/ manipulation. He goes "you have a deep hatred for me." "T'as plus envie de voir ma geule." "You can't stand me being here". His form of fighting is like to tell ME how I feel about him. Mr. Oversimplification. It's like he has been asleep the past year, and can't see how he has influenced our current situation. How he is in a depressed rut & can no longer nourish our relationship, and isn't planning a future for me + him. Just one bleak one for him.
It's infuriating, incensing, I can't begin to describe.
The only silver lining about all this is that I can see so clearly now the necessity of a commitment to someone. I suppose that it can happen tacitly. But it must happen. Otherwise you are sleepwalking zombies in the same house. I guarantee. Because it truly is too painful to look hard at your problems. Too much pain is too hard to live in. So you ignore it, turn to "sleep" mode. We're all guilty.
Because of my own demand that he leave the domicile, I will be the one to pull the trigger, to drive the car into a ditch and abandon it on the side of the road. Someone needed to get into the drivers seat. There was a ghost driver and sleeping passengers. So it's me, who will drive him to Logan or the bus or whatever. Just like we've always done. Except this time he may never come back. I will cry for days. I will try to make sense of this mess. I will lie in bed alone the past 4 years of my life screening in my brain eternally. I will sweep up dust with some of the dirt from his shoes and it will make me cry. I will need someone to fix something in my car and he won't be there. I will wonder if I should buy his overpriced cranberry tea bread at Maple Farm. I will cry. I will cry. He will cry, on another continent. This is the first/ only breakup I will endure long distance. He will return to being a name in my inbox, or a green camera on gchat.

You know that deep pain in your neck when you are crying about something really painful? I felt that in a flash yesterday, looked in the mirror at my red eyes and blotches, and then examined some of my grey hairs. It made my crying increase/ Like the pain of going through a breakup, while having grey hair. the juxtaposition of all that strikes me as sad. I didn't have grey hairs 2 or 3 years ago. I have them now; I have aged, I have acquired wisdom. But some wisdom I chose not to acknowledge. And now I am old. The wisdom has come to stay. The folly of youth has moved past me. Us getting together now seems so frivilous. Such a shame, so truly appropriate, to learn everything the relationship had to teach you only at the very end, as it is leaving you.

I'll soon be the kind of person who jumps desparately from activity to activity, hoping to re-assemble something resembling myself and come out alive. Overpriced Yoga class? Yes. Knitting circle? Yes. Concert of music I hate? Yes. So, I'll see you out there, because that is where I'll be.

weird night indeed.

last night hormones were rockin my body, I was eating everything, feeling blue, rem rare nite out w aikido friends. I started to resent his sleep state in life and pissed he didn't call me, that my fone is broken anyway, that i can't reach out on text as easily as pie no more. Did I screw up at the cool people party on sunday? I found myself in the company of a long time girl crush & cool dudes associated with an uber-cool bar in town. I opened my mouth to speak and spoke some dumb stuff about like what I feed nico (walmart rice? Did I need that detail?) (forgot the name of my favorite clogs -- good one tam) Had one score about how when desserts get together + really love each other + are married they make a baby dessert. Set up dude to say "and then they "desert" each other". Where is my wit and tact?? There was too much at stake, then when everyone left except this guy patrick, I was like maybe a little too interested in how his girl friends made money on eband dot com with sexy narratives and like wore panties for days + sent it to dudes. I was like practically taking notes.

more later.

not having it

what a funky time.

my emotional barometer seems to be broken today. I am lead around mostly by feelings of hunger, thirst, and need to sleep. I'm in a haze. I can't remember what I like + don't like. People I see on the streets are like cartoon cameos in my long unedited life stock.

today, had lunch by myself w/ Nico at bueno y sano. saw Nicole... and luke... and had a nice time wearing a sundress in 80 degree weather. Disorienting though.

I guess I feel so weird + confused and sick. In the other room is what has become a problem. Over 4 years there have been periods of denial of the problem.
So we weave in an out between survival mode, co-existing roommates, roommates who embrace each other while the other makes coffee, yelling roommates, roommates who cook and eat together. Roommates who have a dog together and go out with him and discipline him and take pride in him like he's our child. Roommates who sleep separately.
I guess you could feel... sorry for me? People always make the cringe face when I say that my relationship is in the pits. Like, oh man, that is tough.
Well, it will be tough, once I get the courage to up + leave.
Which I clearly don't have at this point. Or over the past 6 months. Or over the past year.
But I want to have it. I want to live simpler, not to come gushing out to girlfriends about this conundrum, this head-fuck.
"but I love him... but we don't have a future... but I love him.... but ... but..."
I'm stuck, until I do something. I'm stuck in every possible way. I've accepted a state of complacency. So I cannot grow in that. Except in little boxy ways which depress me.

I am in a funk. I guess a challenge I'd like to be sharper at is accepting what is an unknown. And experiencing it. We're not supposed to know, but it's a process, and I'd like to not ignore my emotional barometer to make it go away. Cuz it's uncomfortable.

I'm too uncomfortable to keep writing. The energy in my apartment has become so weird that the place I feel the best is lying horizontal in my bed. Like, sometimes I'll try to do something, like organize my clothes, and my feet take me simply to my bed where I lie, cuddle Nico. Like anything more is so physically exhausting to even begin to contemplate doing.
I truly would like to pack up my car, get the hell out.
Come to think of it, do you have a truck perhaps? Can you please come here one afternoon and we will take care of this stat?
oh dear.

xx oo

bday

Wow, been a month?
What to say...

Just a quickie right now. It's my birthday. I force this news on everyone, craving the days where my mom would have brought in cupcakes for the whole class. :) Man, b'days are so magical, especially for a child. Yesterday I said loudly in Traders "It's my birthday, I want this." (Ginger beer)

I guess a weird thing happened today. Trying not to let it get too into my brain today. I went into school. After a series of weird interactions (normal weird) the office decided to "switch" me into the autistic kindergarten room. Probably about my least favorite place to be ever. On my birthday. After a few moments of attempting conversation with 5-yr olds and failing to derive social clues from my colleagues, I excuse myself and.... left. Well first I leave the room. Then I left the school. I got into my car, thought, made sure I was making the right choice.

THis story would really make me proud if I were clearer on its implications. Like, I so knew that I didn't want to be there. But other days I suffer through it. I also felt manipulated, placed in a role I didn't agree to, and thus undervalued.

I guess I'm not extremely proud of this story because I called the school from the cafe where I spent the next few hours reading and said, "I left; I felt sick and left." So... it's like I felt all of these true, valuable feelings, and then I go on and lie, weakening my true revelation. Anyway... on ward and upward. Onto teaching flute this afternoon, then Judge Judy, then.... drinks w friends and good feelings!