Maybe I slipped in between.
I called it. Waking up feeling the waste. At least I didn't stay up, at least I got 12 hours of sleep.
But my sleep lately hasn't felt like sleep, it's felt like being dead. So when I wake up, I feel like I haven't slept at all. There's no rest in it, and I fear it's become more of an escape than I would like. It's just a warm coma. I haven't remembered a dream in so long, I'd have to go back through this to find them.
My body feels sick. Achy and tired, my head and my eyes hurt.
. . .
More than tired of my own past causing issues, I feel the punishment of every one that's come before me. It makes me afraid of the things I need, as though they're naturally out of bounds. Paying the price for the fuck ups I did not commit. Keeping things I want to say in my mouth, so as not to disrupt anything.
More and more the reality of what I have hits me, and then I know my expectations are way too high. A common occurance. Not a surprise. I can't expect to be treated any differently.
But now that I think about what happened, I should have expected this consequence. I should have expected a giant cut off, though giant to you is not the same as giant to me. Shifts in routine, changes in habit come to me as giant, and you didn't tell me where you were going.
I anticipate another quiet day. Another day without even the slightest word from you, because this is how it all starts. It starts as just a day. As my anger mounts, as my feelings of doubt creep, you'll magically pop online, and my desire to talk to you will cancel out all of my bad feelings. I will act as though I never typed this, because it will feel to me like I never did. It will all slip back.
. .. .
I've got to wonder about how long I've put up with substandard treatment. My whole life, I would say.
I talked with Kristin about this last night. And she said to me, "Where do you find these men?" or "Boy, you really know how to pick 'em."
It's true. If I went through each one, you would say the same thing. If I could bring myself to recount the falls of my ten years of dating, you too would wonder how I could ever bother again.
Recently, in the last year or so, I've been trying not to chase. I've been trying to hang back, so that when you pull away, I'm just sitting here, waiting. So far, that hasn't worked either, because it feels like they all wanted me to go away, wanted me to sit waiting. I changed my approach then. I changed it so that I wasn't so much waiting, but doing other things secretly waiting.
And I've never said, "No, I will not see you, I've got plans." Because I never do, and I can't lie.
I am going to start saying I have a short, fat, and hairy boyfriend that's quite jealous. I will not be lying, as Cosmo is in my lap right now.