Not surprisingly
Jan. 11th, 2004 04:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
holly_evolvingThe brush with romance is totally on the back burner, were it ever anywhere else. Not that that's so horrible. He and I are marvelous friends who had a good moment. Oddly enough, it has only strengthened our friendship. Even more oddly, it had nothing to do with the breakup. That was just a matter of my soul surviving. There are a whole lot of bitter, nasty, vicious people who might see my journal. It would be a crime if "Heath" were punished for our momentary lapse of decorum. It was never love. It was a wild, heady crush--something like the first few moments of being high. It left me able to tolerate "Chris" far longer than I could have otherwise. A kindness to Chris; a cruelty to me.
I am now unable to fall asleep unless I'm completely exhausted. Thursday night, I talked with Poogle till that struck. Friday night, with Chrispy. Tonight, there's no one, but I've got to get up at 9. My brother is being ordained a deacon, and by some insanity I've decided to show up and visit. I just hope no one asks me how I am. "Terrible, thanks, but it's Robert's day, not mine." No other way to see my niece, though.
Amazing how small everything that has gone before in my life seems now. I stand on the brink of disaster, and all I can count on is luck. My friends say "I don't want to take sides." Best of luck, my dears. Fred'll try and make you. He said, "You have a history of thinking your exes are insane." Well, yes, the last two. Fred tried to force me to stab him with an 18-inch dagger, and DJ said he wanted to run me over with his car. Sounds crazy to me! The others, and there are a fair number, all were quiet things. There will be no more for a long time. Till July 31, 2004. Julie says I should drop sex altogether. It sounded ludicrous to me at first, but from certain points of view it's just another stress factor. Best not to seek it, I suppose, although what I'll do if it finds me I don't know anymore. After the HPV scare, I'm not exactly looking forward to conquering new territory. And the old ones have...well...grown old.
I must be getting a little better. My thoughts are wandering, which they haven't since Friday afternoon when I got the news that Fred was coming back. Although rage is still always quite near the surface, it's nice that I can skim along for a short while at least.
The thing to do now is to hope I can phonepay my storage unit once daylight hits. I'll be canceling storage on the 31st and the bastard can have the lock and key. I never should have bailed him out. Never should have taken him in. Never should have loved him. Love has a habit of making me sick. I'll be glad to be quit of it for a while, and grateful to any friends who stop me should I seem to be falling in. "One day at a time," my father says. But his demon was alcohol, not love. I've managed to avoid it for 23 years, but now at last I have to learn to love myself. Best of luck to me!
Platypus
I am now unable to fall asleep unless I'm completely exhausted. Thursday night, I talked with Poogle till that struck. Friday night, with Chrispy. Tonight, there's no one, but I've got to get up at 9. My brother is being ordained a deacon, and by some insanity I've decided to show up and visit. I just hope no one asks me how I am. "Terrible, thanks, but it's Robert's day, not mine." No other way to see my niece, though.
Amazing how small everything that has gone before in my life seems now. I stand on the brink of disaster, and all I can count on is luck. My friends say "I don't want to take sides." Best of luck, my dears. Fred'll try and make you. He said, "You have a history of thinking your exes are insane." Well, yes, the last two. Fred tried to force me to stab him with an 18-inch dagger, and DJ said he wanted to run me over with his car. Sounds crazy to me! The others, and there are a fair number, all were quiet things. There will be no more for a long time. Till July 31, 2004. Julie says I should drop sex altogether. It sounded ludicrous to me at first, but from certain points of view it's just another stress factor. Best not to seek it, I suppose, although what I'll do if it finds me I don't know anymore. After the HPV scare, I'm not exactly looking forward to conquering new territory. And the old ones have...well...grown old.
I must be getting a little better. My thoughts are wandering, which they haven't since Friday afternoon when I got the news that Fred was coming back. Although rage is still always quite near the surface, it's nice that I can skim along for a short while at least.
The thing to do now is to hope I can phonepay my storage unit once daylight hits. I'll be canceling storage on the 31st and the bastard can have the lock and key. I never should have bailed him out. Never should have taken him in. Never should have loved him. Love has a habit of making me sick. I'll be glad to be quit of it for a while, and grateful to any friends who stop me should I seem to be falling in. "One day at a time," my father says. But his demon was alcohol, not love. I've managed to avoid it for 23 years, but now at last I have to learn to love myself. Best of luck to me!
Platypus