What have I done?
09-29-06 | 18:47

OK, so I have been gone a while, and I have been miserably depressed, and I've had a visit with my ex-boyfriend whom I am starting to care about again, not that I ever stopped, but against all my better judgement and logical thoughts - i cannot get him out of my mind and I am starting to hate it. He has dominated every second of my thoughts since Wednesday at noon.
What am I going to do?

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So Close
09-07-06 | 22:26

I started rereading Dorothy Parker's Complete Stories again. I always love her at a time like this - when I am alone, her short stories hold me and I don't get bored or overwhelmed at the prospect of an entire book, nor do I have time to let my mind wander and start to cry or feel just plain awful, because that is how I do feel.
So I have my hangbag in my right hand and the book in my left, walking down Barrow to Hudson to catch a taxi to work and what do I see on the last page of the book? A yellow post it with someone's phone number, Curtis? Cousin? No It says "Cyn's Cell" The cell phone of my old dope dealer. Ha! Of course I would find it at a time like this, when it has crossed my mind, and of course it would be stuck to the back of my Dorothy Parker book, too fucking funny, just a riot. I call the number in the taxi, the number belongs to someone else now, a 'Stacy'. I was both relieved and disappointed. What would I have done if she had picked up? Does she still do that anymore? Jesus just thinking about it brings back her sick smile and the smell and the feeling in the back of my throat, I can almost smell it. I remember when it got real bad for me I would do four neat little bumps on my hand mirror on my kitchen counter before work. I had such a ritual about it. It always had to be four bumps, because that was my perfect dose, and they had to be positioned in a square, left, right, left, right. Tap the rolled up bill, fold up the mirror and I was in heaven.
Did she get arrested? I bet she still does it, I wish I remembered her last name, but really it would do me no good. It would just be weird to talk to her after all this time, if I never fell out of touch with her in the first place I wouldn't have this problem.What the FUCK am I thinking? I wouldn't have this problem? What, the problem of sobriety? I haven't taken a deep breath in days. I try, but it is as if my lungs have lost the capacity to take in anything more than shallow just gettin' by breathing. Within five days my lose muscles and straight shoulders have tightened to become the mess that my neck and back currently is, I have no more posture, and I am getting ugly. I've been eating bloody chocolate for breakfast and I haven't been sleeping well.
He hasn't phoned me, he texted me 'hello' yesterday, but what the fuck is that? Holy shit - he is ringing me now. I just willed him to call! I didn't pick up though. The worst thing about all of this is that he is OK with the situation, he is fine to have me not call or see him and just wait until he chooses to see me.
God I hate this.

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It doesn't change anything
09-06-06 | 08:56

I am so tired I am shaking. Of course I didn't go to Pilates last night.
On Sunday after he hung up on me I called him back (of course) and then he really said it. The phone call ended with me telling him "be well" and him saying "thanks". I don't remember what I did after that, Sunday was bad. I tried to start it out good - I went to Marc Jacobs on Bleecker and bought some Fall tops and a corduroy skirt, but I think things feel apart - ha that is something PB said to me over the phone, "everything falls apart Ecstasia" Whatever - well things fell apart after shopping when I went home and watched television, haplessly ate french fries and watched The Cl0ser while talking to PB for hours and hanging up on him, and him hanging up on me and me calling him back dozens of times - literally dozens of times right after voice mail I would hang up and ring back - until he picked up, only to argue and hang up again. And then - "be well".
While in bed on Sunday night my good friend called, I left her a tearful message earlier that day and we talked some. She is in Cambridge going to school and she invited me to spend the weekend with her, which is what I am going to do. I am taking a three o'clock train on Friday and I'll return on Sunday night. She told me it would be good to get out of the city and away from all things PB.
I don't know where my fucking head is. Yesterday at work was only so-so. I get the feeling that I am no longer very well respected with all the days I've been 'out ill', and I feel almost demoted in the tasks they trust me with and the way I am spoken to - but that is for another entry. So, work was only OK until four thirty, when I started to lose it. The long evening loomed before me and I lost it a little in the stall of the ladies room. I recall early in the day I phoned my good friend and told her my itinerary for the train and when she would pick my up and my fingers automatically started dialing PB.
Why hasn't he called? That means he doesn't want to see me.
Well at five o''clock I bloody phoned him. Jesus fucking Christ. Why?
He sounded happy to hear from me, well not happy - but interested. And in so many words he ended up coming over at seven o'clock. I just ate a grilled cheese sandwich with tomato and bacon that my mother insisted I eat and my stomach felt wretched so I played on that to be quiet and 'ill'. We didn't talk about anything, we didn't even touch, we just chit-chatted and watched television. We ordered Chinese food (terrible food choices this week, absolutely terrible) and at nine o'clock he left. There was one point where he told me that "he is not going to do anything but every ounce of him wants to jump your bones and fuck you". Which is the classical bullshit that we say to each other when the relationship is on the line. I remember years ago after he cheated on me and we saw each other for the first time in months and went to go see Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and then went to his new apartment on Seventh Street sat on the fire escape and drank red stripes. I was sitting on the edge and he was sitting nearer to the window and in one quick motion he reached over and kissed my cheek. It was so 'forbidden' that it was slightly romantic.I didn't swoon, I just felt like I was floating Well anyway last night was exactly that, just more comfortable. And that pisses me off, because that means that not only has nothing changed but he thinks he can act like this with me. While he was leaving I posed the question of 'us' and he said "I want to do this again with you in a couple of days" God am I the only one who feels pathetically frustrated by his behavior?
He gives the impression that he would be perfectly content to go on like this, and keep me away until he wants to spend time with me, or that he has given up having a working relationship with me because I never seem to be interested in his endeavors or projects and he doesn't care about making an effort to have me get along with his friends.
I know he cannot provide me what I need and I know he is is on the verge of not being able to help me anymore, and I know that I will continue to feel bad for him when he gets frustrated and I know that I will continue to get upset and frustrated myself at his way of living, and socializing, and I know that I scare him, and the more I call him the more he just wants to go away, and I know

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