...
...
...
And then: yeah nothing.
Stopped going to the therapist. Missed to many meetings anyway, and we weren't getting anywhere. I lied, he tried, and other rhymes.
The "roommate" is prepping up to figure something out, I can tell. Keeps outing with ideas like "what if i just took all the money I spent on relationships and in the future just got hookers instead?", and posts on facebook "relationship vs. companionship; ideas, pros cons?". I try not to take that personally. Try being the operative word there. Because of COURSE I do. Duh. All that circles around my head are the whys, and the why-not-me's. It's not like I'm reaching for the stars here, but still I fall short.
Is it because I'm not destitute and asking him to pay my way that I'm not an option here? Can I not be a "relationship" cuz I don't need financial saving and I won't cost money? Is it because in fact it's the opposite and he's the money sink in this duality? Or is it because I'm a worse lay than a hooker? Is it because he believes in the fairy universe where you can take two steps back and become friends after you've been lovers, so I can be "companionship"? Blah blah fucking blah.
Stuff I guess I could talk about with a therapist who got me and didn't want to talk about how many calories are in a hard boiled egg and the fucking enormous tragedy that is pattys life (yay, some more of that...no wonder I stopped going!) Still my heart aches. Still I sit alone in bed at night before my pills kick in and wonder why it is that no matter what I do I end up sleeping upstairs, alone, above someone who I love and who, if they could see their way to doing something so hideous, could viably love me back. Or fuck "love", could hold me and breathe and sleep.
Or I sit up and drink and play with my sims, who are as easy to convince to love one another as repeated action commands and enough shared meals + tv time. All I'm looking for is to be friends with the person I love. To both want to fuck their brains out, and care what their opinion is about useless shit; what new loot I got or what the new song from a band we dig is like. I've tried from the fucking side first, I've tried from the friend side first, and this time I thought I'd done it right because I felt them both out at the same time. Started with someone I already knew and worked it slowly along to sex.
But somehow I fucked it up. Saved the day and lived through the "I love you" fugue to come out the other side unwanted because... And thats what kills me. The ellipsis. Without knowing why I can only substitute my own inner litany of why I am undeserving. I'd rather it be because of one flaw that I knew of, rather than just the open ended fill-in-your-own-answer. Strange how I love that in movies and books but can't take it my life. Or maybe it isn't. Maybe that's why.
Fuck it, I'm drunk and this is only going to lead to more tears. Here's to re-enjoying beautiful french fags and melancholy songs before I play with my pixel people and go cuddle my cats.
