(no subject)
I was uncomfortable with him reading my rather emotional reaction to him drunkenly kissing me, and a few other recorded events. He was upset about me writing about that, and claiming that he had a right to read anything written about him. I also believe that he was curious to see my account since he doesn't remember that night.
Paul eventually guilted me into it with the line, "I don't believe in secrets." Which, when I think about it, is such bullshit. He refuses to talk to me, he refuses to talk to Amy. I was incredibly uneasy when he finally got to read that entry, but after pouring over my best attempts to be honest he expressed no reaction to it. I felt cheated. He's read about me wanting to punch him, and being hurt by his actions, and being conflicted in general, and afterwards he doesn't say a god damn thing.
I pointed out that reading anything he writes isn't the same as me sharing my writing with him, since my attempts to be honest will naturally provide more insights for any interested reader than his rants about how much his job sucks. He replied that he gave enough insights in conversation to make up for it.
A fine enough argument, but still so infuriating to remember during those times when he says nothing.
After evincing discomfort at being referred to by name in this journal, Paul has requested that in the future I refer to him as Richard Hell. After this entry, I will.
We watched Gone With The Wind the other day and it was amazing. I was partially delighted because the concept of me forcing Paul to watch a four hour long classic is amusing, but I also believed that Paul would fall in love with the character Rhett Butler. And lo, there were many laughs of delight and exclamations of "I want to party with Rhett Butler!"
Paul moves into my house in less than a week. We may or may not be going to North Carolina with the whole gang some time in August.
Yesterday I called Mairead for the first time since we broke up. She expressed surprise over hearing from me so soon, and I admitted that I was partially motivated by curiosity over whether the two of us were capable of having a conversation. We then segued into debating the merits of smooth verses chunky peanut butter and traded work stories. Her apartment sounds wonderful, since she's living in Edgar Allen Poe's family house. It is supposedly haunted.
We talked for exactly eleven and a half minutes, and for some reason it made me really happy.
Nearly everyone around me expressed relief when we broke up. Apparently they were all worried about me, and they all saw it coming. I'm not good at explaining what kept me in that relationship. Nevertheless, for inexplicable reasons, talking to her for eleven and a half minutes made me very happy.
I talked to Billy for the first time in months today. We kept getting cut off and having to call each other back, but we spoke for at least half an hour cumulatively. I was so happy to hear from him again. There have been times this summer where I found myself fiercely longing for his company, because the way we are around each other makes my life seem so simple and easy.
He sounded happy. He has an apartment and a job, and feels free. He broke up with Lil about a month ago, but seems content with it.
I'll drive up to see him this weekend if I can. Hanging out with Billy, who has no drama and will take me fishing and will simply sit and talk with me in the sunshine, sounds wonderful.
Paul eventually guilted me into it with the line, "I don't believe in secrets." Which, when I think about it, is such bullshit. He refuses to talk to me, he refuses to talk to Amy. I was incredibly uneasy when he finally got to read that entry, but after pouring over my best attempts to be honest he expressed no reaction to it. I felt cheated. He's read about me wanting to punch him, and being hurt by his actions, and being conflicted in general, and afterwards he doesn't say a god damn thing.
I pointed out that reading anything he writes isn't the same as me sharing my writing with him, since my attempts to be honest will naturally provide more insights for any interested reader than his rants about how much his job sucks. He replied that he gave enough insights in conversation to make up for it.
A fine enough argument, but still so infuriating to remember during those times when he says nothing.
After evincing discomfort at being referred to by name in this journal, Paul has requested that in the future I refer to him as Richard Hell. After this entry, I will.
We watched Gone With The Wind the other day and it was amazing. I was partially delighted because the concept of me forcing Paul to watch a four hour long classic is amusing, but I also believed that Paul would fall in love with the character Rhett Butler. And lo, there were many laughs of delight and exclamations of "I want to party with Rhett Butler!"
Paul moves into my house in less than a week. We may or may not be going to North Carolina with the whole gang some time in August.
Yesterday I called Mairead for the first time since we broke up. She expressed surprise over hearing from me so soon, and I admitted that I was partially motivated by curiosity over whether the two of us were capable of having a conversation. We then segued into debating the merits of smooth verses chunky peanut butter and traded work stories. Her apartment sounds wonderful, since she's living in Edgar Allen Poe's family house. It is supposedly haunted.
We talked for exactly eleven and a half minutes, and for some reason it made me really happy.
Nearly everyone around me expressed relief when we broke up. Apparently they were all worried about me, and they all saw it coming. I'm not good at explaining what kept me in that relationship. Nevertheless, for inexplicable reasons, talking to her for eleven and a half minutes made me very happy.
I talked to Billy for the first time in months today. We kept getting cut off and having to call each other back, but we spoke for at least half an hour cumulatively. I was so happy to hear from him again. There have been times this summer where I found myself fiercely longing for his company, because the way we are around each other makes my life seem so simple and easy.
He sounded happy. He has an apartment and a job, and feels free. He broke up with Lil about a month ago, but seems content with it.
I'll drive up to see him this weekend if I can. Hanging out with Billy, who has no drama and will take me fishing and will simply sit and talk with me in the sunshine, sounds wonderful.