Siege perilous
I believe I can sum up September accordingly: asshat.
I slogged through Friday. Went on a tour of Haunted Orange that evening with friends. Quite a bit of history in my little town.
I came down on Saturday. My dear friend B, after being in labor for two days at a birth center, ended up going to the hospital for a c-section after no progress was made. She is fine; that's the first we've heard from her (I'm betting they all conked out at the hospital). It is frightening to think of what might have happened, had modern medicine not been available. I understand her desire for a natural birth - I'm all for it - I'm just glad we had that sort of backup, because...well...that's how people died, back in the day, and still do at times.
I would like to talk about that for a bit. I figured that if all else failed there would be a doctor involved, and she would be fine in the end, but it was scary, not knowing. And...it didn't help that they webcasted it (nothing graphic but we could see what was going on) and we could see her not progressing through the hours, and it honestly was very scary to see the midwife saying "we should go to the hospital."
She is fine. They're posting facebook photos. The child is HUGE (poor B).
Went to Target, Marshall's and Kohl's with Mom today to get decorating ideas. Didn't buy anything besides necessities (makeup remover, underwear) but I wanted to see what was available to me. I have some ideas now. I guess I'll move in and then see about getting situated.
I slogged through Friday. Saturday was basically okay. Today...today, while staring at shelves in Home Depot and remembering him talking about it, I got all worked up.
So I wrote him a short letter. Mostly it said the things I wanted to say but didn't say, because I panicked after I got his first text and overreacted. Nothing mushy in it, just explaining text breakups were not my style, and he meant a lot to me, and I knew how unhappy he was...and also, please get out of the pit you're in before it eats your soul, and here's my idea of how to do it, and best of luck.
I do not really expect a response. He is in such a dark place right now, that...the best I hope for is he sees it, thinks "someone does care" and maybe it makes him feel a little better. His situation is crushing him...and I can't fix that. I have to move on, and live my life, because...it's too short so sit there waiting for him. I have to work and write and see my friends and get my new apartment in order. But I did tell him I cared, very much, and...he should know that I cared, because God knows I didn't say it much while we were together. (I think I showed it in other ways, but whatever, sending it made me feel better. It is my great hope he will not firebomb my house in response.) And I feel better, having written it and sent it on its way.
"He likes you," Mom said when I expressed my fear that he gave not one shit. "He probably loves you, but he's just...he's a mess."
(I guess this could all backfire horribly and he could say the most dreadful things to me and I'll feel worse, but oh well.)
And so I go on my way. Head back up north tomorrow, go into work, and do my thing. I take possession of the apartment on October 1, and I assume I'll figure out utilities then, too - right now I guess the roommate and I are looking at renting a U-haul for a day in October and splitting the cost, then ferrying our smaller stuff seperately.
And now 10,000 BC is on. My evening is complete.