(no subject)
Today has been emotionally hard.
I went on this desperate crying jag thinking about everything I need to change in my life to be Ok. See, I was talking with my mom first thing in the morning and she was all excited about redoing the guest bathroom and I kept thinking, that's not the guest bathroom, that's my bathroom. But I didn't say it because it's not really true. I am a guest here, as I adamantly state over and over again. My parents have been wonderful about me staying here. Simply wonderful.
Today I didn't feel very wonderful.
I'm still sick with this cold I've had since the night my car was broken into. I just finished a round of antibiotics. I hate the idea of antibiotics and reserve using them for emergencies. This was an emergency. *sigh again*
the doorbell. hmmm. more avon stuff.
You know, life is not bad. Not bad at all. I miss my life in San Diego, I miss my Mao, I miss my former-fiance, I miss saying, "We're planning on getting married."
But I don't want it to happen. That's why I cry when I remember that I and only one other person know the history of the paint color on the walls of the room I stay in.
It's different than why I wanted to cry when I showed up at Thai Time last night without Gabe, seeing our friends around the table. It was so nice to see them, but ...I was seeing them for a while as two couples and not quite four friends. (I know what's missing here!) But it's ok because we can still go there, we can still order Tom Kha for both of us and Pad thai for him. We can still argue kindly over the check and know that it will all work out evenly because there is still time.
Time for this, time for that, time for friendship and a cooler kind of love. A kind I can handle coming from him. And also a kind I'm happy to participate in and develop.
I don't know why I'm writing all this.
This is where I am now.
I went on this desperate crying jag thinking about everything I need to change in my life to be Ok. See, I was talking with my mom first thing in the morning and she was all excited about redoing the guest bathroom and I kept thinking, that's not the guest bathroom, that's my bathroom. But I didn't say it because it's not really true. I am a guest here, as I adamantly state over and over again. My parents have been wonderful about me staying here. Simply wonderful.
Today I didn't feel very wonderful.
I'm still sick with this cold I've had since the night my car was broken into. I just finished a round of antibiotics. I hate the idea of antibiotics and reserve using them for emergencies. This was an emergency. *sigh again*
the doorbell. hmmm. more avon stuff.
You know, life is not bad. Not bad at all. I miss my life in San Diego, I miss my Mao, I miss my former-fiance, I miss saying, "We're planning on getting married."
But I don't want it to happen. That's why I cry when I remember that I and only one other person know the history of the paint color on the walls of the room I stay in.
It's different than why I wanted to cry when I showed up at Thai Time last night without Gabe, seeing our friends around the table. It was so nice to see them, but ...I was seeing them for a while as two couples and not quite four friends. (I know what's missing here!) But it's ok because we can still go there, we can still order Tom Kha for both of us and Pad thai for him. We can still argue kindly over the check and know that it will all work out evenly because there is still time.
Time for this, time for that, time for friendship and a cooler kind of love. A kind I can handle coming from him. And also a kind I'm happy to participate in and develop.
I don't know why I'm writing all this.
This is where I am now.