Hiatus - Day 9-10
Yesterday I read and stayed in bed. I drank vodka and did nothing constructive save tag all my old LJ entries. This meant I got to read old stuff about Matt - not good.
Today I finished Ginnie's Ekaterina piece and thought about Jez's tattoo. I have a grand aversion to designing a tattoo for him if he's ever gonna sleep with me or have a relationship. I'd hate the idea of him disliking the tattoo because it reminded him of me. I want to be with him. I don't want to sleep with him or anyone else. I want company... and I'm terrified of intimacy and how it won't work - it never fucking works - and then of how there will be distance, dissatisfaction and maybe worse.
I went to the flat again to sign the documents and see Matt. He asked about the cats and their presents of worms, asked how my painting was going and in one conversation managed to remind me why I'd ever loved him whilst at the same time having awkward silences that showed just how different and severed things were now between us. I knocked on his door before I left, wishing him a happy winterfest and a shiny time in Australia; he came (I think) to hug me - I left before he could. He asked me to look after myself. I just gave him a long and blank look. And when I'd closed the front door behind me, I cried.
There are marks on my face, pale blotches of rough skin, barely visible, but there. It looks like it I'm developing leprosy or something. I have no idea if this is because of the vodka, the fleas the cats have or the grub on the sofa and duvet I'm sleeping on. (In the past my face has rotted spectacularly due to sleeping at friend's houses on dirty 'guest' duvets which have never been washed - I hope thats all it is this time.) I'm actually slightly scared.
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Ben has replied - many many months late to the emails I have sent him - I find it sadly amusing it was on the eve I walked away from Matt for the last time.
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I'm not in a good place. To crave and hate both company and intimacy at once... to wish to hide and yet want to be rescued - I always behave at my worst in such situations.
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Today I have eaten muslie, an apple, two biscuits, a packet of soup.
I'm still eating too much. I want not to eat. FUCK.
Today I finished Ginnie's Ekaterina piece and thought about Jez's tattoo. I have a grand aversion to designing a tattoo for him if he's ever gonna sleep with me or have a relationship. I'd hate the idea of him disliking the tattoo because it reminded him of me. I want to be with him. I don't want to sleep with him or anyone else. I want company... and I'm terrified of intimacy and how it won't work - it never fucking works - and then of how there will be distance, dissatisfaction and maybe worse.
I went to the flat again to sign the documents and see Matt. He asked about the cats and their presents of worms, asked how my painting was going and in one conversation managed to remind me why I'd ever loved him whilst at the same time having awkward silences that showed just how different and severed things were now between us. I knocked on his door before I left, wishing him a happy winterfest and a shiny time in Australia; he came (I think) to hug me - I left before he could. He asked me to look after myself. I just gave him a long and blank look. And when I'd closed the front door behind me, I cried.
There are marks on my face, pale blotches of rough skin, barely visible, but there. It looks like it I'm developing leprosy or something. I have no idea if this is because of the vodka, the fleas the cats have or the grub on the sofa and duvet I'm sleeping on. (In the past my face has rotted spectacularly due to sleeping at friend's houses on dirty 'guest' duvets which have never been washed - I hope thats all it is this time.) I'm actually slightly scared.
=====
Ben has replied - many many months late to the emails I have sent him - I find it sadly amusing it was on the eve I walked away from Matt for the last time.
=====
I'm not in a good place. To crave and hate both company and intimacy at once... to wish to hide and yet want to be rescued - I always behave at my worst in such situations.
=====
Today I have eaten muslie, an apple, two biscuits, a packet of soup.
I'm still eating too much. I want not to eat. FUCK.