When I get to the target weight, I'll buy myself a nice dress, the whole outfit. Hopefully there'll be someone to wear it for too...

an IM conversation with some casual chatbuddy:

me: just went on ebay to bid on some used game

friend: oh what was it

me: another way to occupy my time; indulge in some cheaper time waste, some nintendo games

friend: so u got a game console of some kind

me: mostly nintedo ds, gamecube

friend: yeah..santas bringing a xbox 360...lol cost santa alot of money too....lol

me: well so long as you've been good.

friend: lol well i hope so

friend: have you been good this year

me: too good

friend: oh well u should be well rewarded

me: sure. I'll wait for karma.

friend: lol, so what ya really hoping for

me: nothing, I don't ever expect anything

friend: oh you want for nothing..

me: no, I'm not disappointed if it doesn't come

friend: surely there must be something you would like that brightens your day

friend: hmmmm, well what ever comes your way i hope its just what you hope for

I wish that I could stop missing Mr. W. That it would stop hurting, that I would feel better already.


portion of an Advice column on NERVE:

As for what's happening right now, three days of unreturned email in a long-distance relationship doesn't indicate a future-girlfriend-caliber level of interest on her part. The "don't have the means to see you" I also don't understand. You know what I did when I wanted to see my boyfriend in high school and couldn't afford the bus? I collected cans. I shit you not. I spent two weekends hunting down sticky Pepsi containers and piss-and-cigarette-butt filled King Cobra bottles by the side of the road. Then I spent several afternoons hauling them to the bottle return so I could take public transportation that smelled like rancid buffet food to see my one and only. People who are really into other people find ways to make things happen. If she truly couldn't afford to come see you but were still mega-interested, then she'd damn sure be burning up the email, instant messenger, and phone lines. This isn't to say she doesn't like you. It could just mean she's thinking differently about the relationship. You're a nice guy, but you don't live in her area and therefore she's not going to take the whole affair too seriously. Perhaps you can start thinking about the relationship that way, as one with limited potential, and it will help cool down some of the analysis. I like this girl, I'm excited, but it's probably not going to be a thing, so I'm going to be more a lot more proactive about pursuing other options. I know that's easier said than done when you really like someone, but you'll be surprised how easy it is to transfer your depleted feelings when you meet a more responsive prospect. We can only chase after people who don't want us for so long.

Oh, Oww...the meds are giving me liver pains...! Had minor pains in the past, mostly felt like heartburn, but more of a centered pain or towards the right side. Now I've been getting these episodes of lingering pain...it fades, but it's impossible to escape when it's present. Had it happen late Thanksgiving night, the Wednesday night I baked for the office party and in the afternoon today while I was out shopping with Ms. P. at FAO Schwarz. Don't know if it's the new med in my pharmacopeia causing the intense distress. It might be the pancreantitis that Mom had in the past- now I can empathize with how painful hers really was. I took the meds after I ate, so that may be the reason too... It never really seems to matter, but it could be getting log jammed in the guts. I felt heartburn - like pain, then a kind of throbbing pressure in the abdomen (prob my liver about to explode.) and a feeling of tenderness inside. I drank water, took a tylenol and was quietly belching to relieve the pressure. Oh god...I even had a slight case of the hiccups and that was insanely painful! I had to demand if Ms. P. had any candy to try and stop the spasms. She had a cough drop and that worked. I was sweating from the pain of my abdomen getting jostled by hiccups! Holding on against the pain wrung me out, I couldn't focus on anything but trying to keep it in check... I did my best to not be a drip to Ms. P. but I was seriously contemplating calling it a day and skulking home. The only reason that I didn't was the fact that when the pain passes, I usually recover with no lingering effects.

I bought antacids, drank the small amount of water I had left, and eventually took another tylenol...It finally started to fade in intensity. Lasted maybe 2 hours? Probably lasted longer cause I was walking and moving. When the other attacks happened, I was at home and just lay on the floor like a poisoned bug. Not that that always did the trick, but it's easier to writhe in agony in the privacy of one's home than on the main floor of FAO Schwarz!

I also have had a slight cough develop, and it ocurred to me just today that it could be the listed side effect of the new drug. I was wondering where the heck it was coming from, as I wasn't feeling sick from any cold!


On the Mr. W. whining front: I've found a new way to make myself miserable. I've started to re-read his emails matching the current date to the emails he sent a year ago. Really, where did that person go? I miss it all so much.

Office party today. It's snowing hard today too. I actually didn't have too much of a baking frenzy this year for the office cakes. I did my best to do mis en place and measured out all I could in advance on Mon, baked one cake on Tuesday, and two others on Wednesday. The details kept me up late again, but the stress level was less and the cakes turned out well.

Maybe I won't be doing it again, this is the first year I even considered not baking something for the lunch party. I don't really get much reward out of it, but it was gratifying in the past. I was reading another NYT article yesterday, this one was about gift giving. I have a long history of gift giving where I know it was to feel an emotion more than just a gift. A cigar is just a cigar territory...

Mr. W. would tell me not to give him things, that he felt badly about accepting; he always made a point to say thank you. But on the other hand, he'd talk and I could hear that he appreciated things very much. How could I not give at least a decent meal to someone who talked about how he'd eaten only canned ravioli that day, and him a big, strapping 6' 2" guy?

In retrospect, all those incidences of him telling me to not give were just messages to say "Don't care about me." "I don't want you to be close."

And how do I feel today?





Sad. Just typing that pushes me to the brink of tears. I'm all hormonal by coincidence of course, it's the end of the cycle for this month. Why, just yesterday I was reading a NYT article about diabetes and depression and how the two can further combine to result in heart disease. After glancing through it, I had to rush to the bathroom in order to gather my composure. Yep, that's what I have to look forward to, and my heart's already broken/bruised/cut out of me.



I went shopping yesterday. Got to Bazzini's and Bed, Bath, Beyond for xmas gifts. I can't imagine shopping at these levels on an everyday basis. What a difference it must be to be able to afford the nicer things in life without caring about the bill. The other month I was at Sahhadi's just to get vanilla beans: a couple was filling a shopping cart with all sorts of gourmet items: various cheeses and jars of things. A hunk of cheese in the $15 dollar range times 12? Times 20? Maybe it was for a holiday party, or they were caterers, but to be able to just casually live that way seems so outof my reach. I'd manage to splurge on one thing, or go mildy overbudget just once, but only with the control that then I'd spend less on myself.

I don't feel good about myself. I miss Mr. W. Again. Still.

There's the cliche of "Can't Buy Me Love". I'm pulled in two directons regarding finances. On the immediate path, I'm poor. I've got a paycheck to paycheck existence with all the lottery-winner daydreams to boot and no prospects. I've got the basics, yet someone always has more than me...from the house, car, clothes, to the electronic gadgets to die of envy from. It's been instilled in me by my family that saving is the need, although I didn't heed such a common sense message when I was younger. I did eventually start to save part of my income, and even though almost all the members of my immediate family have a headstart on me in the financial goal, I have to realize that I have enough. I won't be wealthy, I won't have leeway to go on a spending spree...but I'll be comfortable? If I can figure out what exactly comfortable is, what to be content would be like. Just say that I have more than some who are less fortunate, some who don't have the ability to put anything aside for the proverbial rainy day.

I don't think about it all the time, but it had just occurred to me, why save if I don't get to enjoy something of it, when I can appreciate it. I totaled up the numbers and the bottom line was really a respectable amount that made me reflect on what's going on in the now. Why all the fear of the rainy day to come? Other people just jump in to sink and splash about - they get by and seem to have a higher sense of satisfaction in life. I don't think that I could become some sort of Franciscan monk and abandon all worthly possessions, but I can't help but wonder what's the point.

I know that flaunting a dollar symbol isn't going to make love come into my life. Sure, tossing the information in someone's face would satisfy some small smarting wound in my self esteem, but the thrill would fade. No positive results, no rewards worth getting.

Had some anxiety lately about getting my maintenance prescriptions refilled. I had about a 1/2 month's supply left, but the GHI system is such a piss-ass piece of shit in comparison to Oxford that by the time I lined up a new doc, what with the delivery delay, I ran out of meds! Probably threw my metabolism all out of whack as I've regained weight, especially with the Thanksgiving food-fest. Need to get back on the exercise treadmill. I should have gotten the carry-over supply prescription, but figured fuck-it, the doctor doesn't even want me as a patient as is...Stupid gastroenterologist listing as a GP. Like that is my fault when I go to him to set up an appointment? All his diagnosis efforts were centered around problems with the gut while all I need was a GP and a refill.

My debt keeps mounting: that "loan" that I granted to Ms. S. is starting to bite my ass. Between the doctor copay and the meds, that just knocked the wind out of my recent holiday buying spree. I have enough to cover, but not to spare, which is a lousy feeling just shy of the night sweats one would get from not having enough at all. Thankfully, I've now covered the IRA for the year and if I can just manage to keep making contributions hopefully, I can get a headstart on 2008. Sad to think that I'd never have made it without the casino refund from my brother and cashing out my three weeks of vacation days. Have to start to budget better and diet as well. Now I've got to worry about high blood pressure in addition to the other ailments... Time to brown-bag healthy lunches. I made a preliminary budget chart: I just don't make enough money!

I'm not even motivated to buy anything for myself these days. Everytime I think of getting someting: new shoes, pants or other drygoods, basic things I need, I find some way to put it off. "I'm still too fat", "I can make do with what I have", "I'll need to buy a few things to avoid mismatching the old stuff with the newer things". Then for something totally frivolous like lingerie, there's the sad "what difference would it make to buy that? No one's going to see it anyway". I could buy a camera, a wireless optical mouse, a better MP3 player, a DVD player, any number of games and games systems... I feel so worthless that I can't even be good to myself and spend money on myself. Instead I should sell off everything that's cluttering up my life.

I half-heartedly made updates to a few online profiles, but never completed them, the usual story there. Nevertheless, I had two responses: one was a immediate throwaway, and the other... wow, the other was intriguing . At least, until I shook myself back to reality and set myself straight. These guys were just trolling for Generic Asian Gal as I have no picture posted. I'm in no way ready to take on the challenges of meeting new people...I'm still in dangerous rebound territory. I mean, I can't even keep my pedicure under control these days, much less think to put myself in any dating pool. I"VE GOT NOTHING. Moot point anyway, as the accounts aren't even activated - I'd have to spend money to just tell somebody "no, thanks".

Still, it'd be nice to have sex again... Abstinence truly shrivels one's spirit. I freely torture myself by remembering good times with Mr. W. and reviving needy memories of when I told myself "Remember this moment, this feeling" in anticipation of losing him. No stomach for having to anticipate another wave of dud men when I go that route again. When I'm ready... if ever.

Mr. W. I still miss you. Tomorrow will be three months and I've suffered terribly all along. Why do I still care? You're so very cold. Guess it comes from the lifestyle you live. I should want to hate you instead, instead of just waiting for it to fade away to feeling nothing.

I've gone out shopping a few times now. I picked up a mass market PC game CD for a sister. I was thinking of travelling to a specific gourmet shop in Tribeca: but on the way there I lost track of how to get to the place. Senility gibbering in the sidestages of the mind...

I shrugged it off and reconfigured my plans to go to another store to pick up gifts for the niece. Upon exiting the train, I realized that, again, I had no clear picture of which way to turn. The standard get lost first and then recover bearings habit was in full force. I could remember the directions very clearly, but couldn't recall the specifics. Granted, it was a year since I'd been to 5th Ave in manhattan, but I was able to suss it out in time to spare. Picked up expensive (useless) doll clothes for the nieces' doll. The most bizarre thing coincidence happened: As I stepped out from the store sister and her guy were there to see the tree and the doll goods too!

"Thinking about the way your life is today, that is, given the good things in your life now and any problems you might be having, IF you knew the QUALITY of your life would never change, that is, it would never get beter or worse, do you feel that suicide would be a good way out?"

Looked up "suicidal ideation"today. That's probably saying too much in any forum. The above was one of a series of questions to assess a person's likely risk of doing the ultimate "going all the way" that there is... Once I hit the words "QUALITY of your life would never change..." I had to give voice to a wail of despair: fear that I had to express that feeling of please, may it not be that way! Life in hell still.


Thanksgiving we went all out in the usual cooking the meal for visiting relatives. A new dessert record was reached: A pan of brownies, mini-carrot cakes, min-pecan pies, a fresh fruit tart, two pans of flan and a pumpkin pie ... all from scratch and everything was eaten!

Later that night, after everyone left, I was tired but still wound up from the energy of the day... I had to vent with a crying spell. So lonely, the excitement of giving was over and there was no one else to impress..... I missed him again, still grieving over it falling apart. Just alone downstairs, sitting in the semi-dark and weeping until the need to do so passed.

Just thinking to myself that I really only wanted to give you the best that I could, Mr. W. Even at this point, I miss your company and think of things that would be nice to do for you, but I keep coming to the same dead-end path.

Perhaps, selfishly, I thought of you as something good and I wanted to keep that for myself as well.

I've noticed that I don't smile lately; a small side effect of the whole crappy affair. I'll have to take time and make up a list of things that I associate with you and find some way to re-wire my thinking so that they don't bring on the teary-eyed introspective moments as frequently.

I feel a little better lately, the grief is not as immediate or long lasting when it overcomes me. The sadness does deepen when I do hit the low point. Now I have problems with false hope trying to assert itself, more of the wishful thinking...the "what if he misses me?" feeling. Similar to the way a dog waits longingly on watchful patrol for the master to return home. Only the footstep never comes. Oops, crying again...

It is the very essence of love to want the best for your loved one, even when that best is no longer you.

Have no idea where the line above originates from; it was part of a readers' comments section to an article in the New York Times. The article was about how some Alzheimer's sufferers can forget their spouses and family to the point that some patients start up relationships with other patients (albeit in limited capacity due to the circumstances of the illness.)

The line has got double meaning for me.

I never said I loved Mr. W. I wasn't going to and it wasn't even an option. His problems prevented me from ever seriously entertaining any chance of a serious relationship ever getting off the ground. BUT that's not to say that I wasn't happy to see him, to be with him, that I allowed myself the occasional flicker of hope that things could change for the better. I told him that I liked him, tried to express the relief from loneliness that was worth everything. We seemed to get along well and all. Having him just cut me off has been so hurtful. I feel so diminished because the rejection is so frustrating and final. I can feel stirrings of bitterness at how it turned out; more than 2 months and I'm still suffering. I have the notion to even return that giftcard he gave me last year. I never used it: there's really nothing that I need to buy using his money, whatever thing I bought would remind me more of him. In fact, I've still the original doubts that he even bought it for ME so who wants a secondhand gift? It's not the milestone "first gift from a guy that likes me" item I would want to keep now anyways.

Yet I do still care enough to want him to get an OCD book that I picked up for him and to forward him health insurance information and other paperwork that I had researched online for him. Even if there's the chance that I'm completely wrong and all his symptoms are really just drug problems, I'd do it because there's the chance I am right. It could potentially help him and there was always that desire in me to help, to fix him (even if I knew that "fixing" could mean that I'd done it for someone else's benefit, i.e. some unknown woman whom he could potentially take up with.) I miss him, I miss talking with him, even with his stupid banter that could make no sense at times!

I could send it all by mail, but I don't have the apartment information, if any, and I'm OCD enough myself to not want the package to get lost in the mail. It's tempting to think that I could go in person to the address I found (and held in reserve months ago.) Yes, I have his address: the Internet has fully enabled me to be a low-level online stalker. Sending it could just cement any idea he may have that I am some kind of pest, and I don't think I could bear to experience any kind of negative reception on his part. Ranging from verbal to body language to potentially outright abuse. Still, I had warned him that I wasn't stupid, at least about some things...

I could also justify it with my battered faith in Karma to make things balance out in the world. It might help me to let go.

The other meaning to the quotation above is that it just occurred to me that today is the three year anniversary of my encounter with Mr. P. Three years! I completely forgot it! I'm absolutely unaffected by thinking of it - I can clearly recall the year and a half of utter misery that ensued from that terrible realization how foolish I'd been to even consider Mr. P. as a person to know. In fact, the only thing I felt was, huh, how ironically stupid it is to be in virtually the same position today as I was then. Guess I didn't learn a lesson. It hurts less, but it's also a deeper wound.

hehheh...just about the only thinking I ever do about Mr. P. these days is to sometimes entertain idle thoughts of sending him "mystery gifts from NY" that would make him sweat. Nothing crazy, just stupid tourist tchotchkes showing up in his mail that would rattle him. That or I think of sending him a postcard that calls him an old fart when his birthday rolls around.

So my wishing for the past pain to fade really did just come true with time. Or I can chalk it up to incipent Alzheimers - worry if I can't find my keys now!

It's all downhill from here.

I'm having trouble keeping my wishful thinking in line. My thoughts have been edging out into the "If only's" and I keep minimizing the truly poor behavior on Mr. W's part.

I think back to the night in March when I accidentally found his drug stash in the van. I was so stunned to find it, and I was totally unable to process the implications of it being there. All I could do was get out, get away from that little straw and that little baggie wrapped up in tissue paper. He was just confused about why I wanted to wait out in the cold instead of stay there and I never got to tell him how I knew about it. He probably curses me out for being a snoop, when it really was just an accidental find...

Over the next few days, I didn't know what to do. I struggled to come to terms with what I now knew - Mr. W. with all his other OCD problems was also a hard drug user. All the goody-good lessons in life had been that drugs are bad, that they're an abomination...and yet I didn't want to give HIM up. I was so torn up, I really could not come to an answer on my own that made any sense. I had to call a suicide advice line for guidance when I couldn't stop crying over it all.

That call directed me to Nar- Anon. He doesn't even know that I eventually attended a Narcotics Anonymous meeting to try to find an answer. That grim little group meeting of people affected by drugs didn't really work out for me; it was a gathering of women talking about their drug-using sons, husbands and boyfriends/fiancees. I wasn't even able to call Mr. W. any of those titles...

I didn't want to give him up, but all my efforts only bought me what? Five more months of time with him. And he chose to be a stranger in the end. Reading some of his emails to me now show more of that side of his personality... I guess he really never cared.

Just dragging my ass around today. Can't focus. I feel so lonely, yet I can't muster the effort to start over again. Fearful of the bad results I'd had in the previous attempts. I know that I should just take it easy for awhile, but it's going on two months and I miss what I had. Still having the nighttime crying jags.

The other day I had to listen in silence as coworkers, by chance, happened to discuss what was the same travel route I used to take to see Mr. W; my mind filled in every detail, and remembered many trips taken and yet not a chirp outta me...but I hurt inside over it. To think that I had once had to worry about someone possibly seeing me on that route while out late at night with Mr. W. A baseless fear in the end, so maybe it was really just a wishful thrill to want to be caught? An existential pinch-me-so-that-I-know-it's-for-real.

Mr. W checked his account the other day. Don't think I didn't wonder at his having set it up as a premium listing either...just more sadness about how I really just trusted him too much. I never even thought to check up on him during the whole time together. I had let my own account lapse, but it does torment me to wonder how bad it was, and I didn't look out for myself in that fashion. I'm caught up in unhealthy stalker mode again... Stupid internet! So easy to dig up info to torment myself with. What was that tidbit of advice that I viewed on the net? "Stop thinking about the other person in a breakup, because they are not thinking about you." (paraphrase) I think he deleted the profile recently, it's not coming up via a search now, so no more temptation to check up on him that way anymore.

I went walking again the other day. From 57th Street (down Broadway) to whatever point I got tired at. I reached my old Madison Square Park rest point and finally got around to checking out the Shack: a food stand in the park notorious as a "must have" destination for hamburgers and ice cream on the foodie boards and for their insanely long lines.

I had a double cheeseburger and a black & white milkshake. Yum, it was tasty. I sat at the tables near the place and actually had a good moment: I was by myself and too bad for that, but things were okay.

Ms. S with her paranoia & paranoid delusions called yet again...Griping over her child custody and legal headaches, the shambles that is her life. It's a shame that it's gone so far - it's too late to be telling her, "Look, I think you're crazy too" with a "and here's why" step by step breakdown, without it being taken the wrong way. She's so far gone that she has no idea that she's the problem. And when I don't sympathize with her or support her to her satisfaction, she hangs on the conversation as if waiting for me to confess that all her suspicions are true.

When she so much as asked where was I through her recent troubles, she dismissed my excuse of my being otherwise preoccupied with my own breakup as something minor. "But didn't you tell me that he has, what...attention deficit issues, that he wasn't treating you well? Wasn't this a MONTH ago?".

I think my starting to cry over the phone convinced her a little bit that I was more involved than she perceived. "You miss him." she said. Miss him like crazy...

SO things are pretty gray lately. I haven't done much for myself lately; it's hard to adjust back to the "being without" life again. I've gone out on some of those foodie trips I made endless plans to check out. I went to Bam! Automat and Katz's Delicatessan; underwhelming, or maybe it's just my frame of mind too. It's just a lame way to try and distract myself.

I have to find some way to accept that Mr. W is not so nice, that he's not coming back, that he's just there in S.I. out of reach but I can't ever see him again. I did everything I could and things just ended up the way they have. It makes for a lot of teary-eyed moments, but then it's just about controlling it so I can function.

Ha, the "Sex and the City" episode with the "He's just not that into you" storyline was on again last night. It's true all over again. Less revelation this time, more "oh, so it's that way, is it." I actually flinch now, on seeing the small gestures that I've always craved to have. It's not like before, where I thought it could be different - this time it's knowing that you're found to be wanting.

So, yesterday would have been a year. I had put a guess in my daily calendar, maybe a month and a half ago: Will I make it to a year? Useless milestone markers. The end results are the same, all the time.

I composed a last email message; sent it off at approximately the same time last year that I first met him. It started off as matter-of-fact that I never wanted it to end the way it had...and I tailed off into a few truthful accusations that he'll probably read into as flaws from me. I'm feeling only a slight tug of compulsion to check for a reply or lack of a reply. A good sign, I suppose.

But who am I kidding? I didn't even make it a day before I opened the email to check for any reply...There wasn't any. There won't ever be one.

No more:
sex! (oh, the horror...)
planning the meet a day ahead
last minute primping
anticipation
kisses
touching
just holding
bites received
tongue teasing
goodbye kissing

How do you stop wanting? No response to any of my latest and apparently last attempts to contact Mr. W. So it's loveless time again. I had trouble even venting about it; I just start losing composure if I think about the situation for more than 5 mins at a time straight.

I'm still hitting the acceptance stage of grief, with the other four stages of denial, anger, bargaining and depression coming back for repeat visits. Overall, I've been somewhat numb, I mean I know I'm not radiating any sense of cheer, but I'm functional at work. I do have to fight to keep from crumbling...yesterday was awfully rough. In mid-task at work, I'd start to feel that flushed, choked-up feeling, with tears welling up and stealth eye-wiping. I used to have better control... The worst times though, are at night - that window of time before you actually fall asleep, laying in bed and the sadness creeps in without anything to distract oneself with.

Going through my mind are all the regrets and self-punishments: I gave my best and it wasn't good enough. I can't seem to pick myself up from that fall yet.

Knowing that I'm grieving the loss of something that screams stupidity doesn't make it any easier to get over.

Well, it's stages of grief time.

Denial (this isn't happening to me!)
Anger (why is this happening to me?)
Bargaining (I promise I'll be a better person if...)
Depression (I don't care anymore)
Acceptance (I'm ready for whatever comes)

Seems like I have to be the one to say it's over 'cause Mr. W. is a messed up piece of work. What a load of abuse I've taken only to be forced to have to label him as just a Jerk in the end.

I probably started off in Depression anyways, but the stages can come out of order anyways. I know I was feeling a bit numb, that if I controlled the panic somehow, I could fix whatever was wrong. Mistake. I thought that lately I've been flirting with Acceptance, but that was probably a false reading: it was really more of a Bargaining thing. I know that it sucks as I get stuck in Anger - I'm just angry at everything now. All these stupid little annoyances that just trigger me to explode. Hah - yesterday my co-workers are trying to hint at me to let things go, that you can't have stuff like eating at your insides. I'm sure they're wondering what's really causing me to be all fucked up. If they only knew just how shitty things really are, but of course they're fucking clueless. ..

For example, yesterday I had to catch a bus to do an errand. I had just a 1/2 hour to pick up something at a store before it closed, and the bus didn't show up as per it's time schedule. Now, I usually just seethe at having to wait on the stupid buses, but this time I couldn't hold it in and just started cursing a blue streak on the street at all buses in in general and the MTA that runs the whole crappy system as I had to wait and wait. I was probably getting the "lookout for the crazy person" look from anyone who passed by in the time period where I was venting. Having SEVEN other buses from both bus lines pass by the intersection, all ones in the direction that I couldn't use didn't help the mood at all. As a topper of course, when the fucking bus finally shows up and is coming down the street, 20 mins into my half-hour travel time, there's a second bus right up it's ass! Thankfully, when I finally did get to the store that I needed to go to, they were locking up but let me in to make my purchase. I've shopped there before, so maybe they felt sorry for the dope with the lame excuse of "The bus was late or I'd have been here on time."

The loss of my relationship is extra painful because I always choose to keep things on the hush-hush. Oh, I did tell my few gal pals that I was SEEING someone...It's so rare for me to be able to preen a bit, to showboat a little that I was dating. It felt good to be able to say to them with a happy lilt, "Well, I've been seeing this guy..." I'm usually private to an extreme point: venting here is a side effect, because keeping the disappointment penned up inside is ripping me up. I didn't let on to anyone that I was seeing someone, couldn't stand to feed other people's curiosities about a late bloomer in their midst. Now I can't allow myself to breakdown or face endless prying from well intentioned do-gooders. The gal pals are now the same ones to offer up trite condolences when I updated them that after just under year, my circumstances were falling apart. How I detested the stale, useless responses: " Well, you'll find someone else, someone better.", "You should go out right away to get him off your mind." The way I felt at first, all anxious and fearful, I'd almost prefer hearing the funeral standard of "I'm sorry for your loss." that would show they understood the depth of my anguish.

It wasn't love, more in a way that my affection was a drug, a crutch that I used to happy to be in his company. Now in it's absence, it's akin to a missing tooth in the mouth sensation where your tongue keeps going back to the open gap in the gumline. I'm cast adrift, gun-shy of having to start all over again. To endure another round of unsatisfying, unsuitable partners: the thought is so distasteful now that I have a measure to judge by. Thanks for the love/hate dilemna, Mr. W. How'm I supposed to settle for less now?!

Oh, make the pain stop. I'm alone again.


Nothing tastes right. Nothing satisfies. I've nowhere to go again. I keep getting the crying jags; I'm actually starting to get angry and I want to scream at him. Go to his house and just get one shot at him... either he'd deck me back or I'd still be offering, giving of myself. I still have that book, I still never told him that I know more than I let on to him. Parting shots that coil up waiting to deploy. Even though there was that stupid "agreement", it didn't mean that I could just be dropped. That he could just ABANDON me! The fucking, chicken-shit, jerk wad...

Mr. W. you are a cowardly, lurking asshole.

The grieving period that the loss of yet another chance at happiness comes on like an emotional low grade fever: it refuses to be shaken until it's burned through it's course. Coming to grips with romantic disappointment often just stops me in my tracks, I can't function. I'll just feel like crying and I just wallow in the misery. It's not like I had that many opportunities to prepare myself for it, I mean I actually spent most of my life thinking I'd never meet anyone who'd want to spend any time with me. As it is, I'll be preoccupied with the sadness, only to have it pass for awhile and then it sucker-punches me with renewed intensity.

I hate my life: I have the need to say it out loud when pain spins in my head. I hadn't had the need to say it for awhile though, what with the happy pills working pretty well. The close company with Mr. W. was restorative as well. But that's not working out anymore as he continues to fail me. Not a call, not an email - he wants to be gone and the way he is, he can't be reasoned with. I'm growing more resigned that there's not much more I can do but to give up. I offered him help, and I would have done what I can to help him in his situation, but I can't expect that he'll just take it. The person needs to want help after all and I can't reduce myself to begging. I just feel crushed.

When I went through it the first time with Mr. P. ; I worked through my days like a zombie, and I wept when I was alone, it was the first time I'd had hope to be lost. By never risking anything, I convinced myself that I'd be safer that way. It took me a year, to a year and a half to be gone of most of that disaster. That was a six month investment of time...I can only wait to find out how long this will take to clear.

"I'm too nice." That's the reason I'm given for why the person I want to see is pulling away.


I can't catch a break...


And YES, I know that's code for the infamous "He's just not into you" line of thought. I've already had that scenario done to death (Thank you very much, Mr. P.) Problem with that mole-ish modus operandi is that until the line actually spills into the relationship scene there's at least one person involved who's oblivious to the scent of blood in the water. Oh, sure there's always foreshadowing of trouble - a wrinkle in the brow over why a particular incident may have occurred. (The handshake offered versus a hug, the inattention to the things that matter to you) But then, isn't it excusable to overlook the personality flag warning(s) because you're still learning about the other person, that you don't know all their moods and behaviors?

Too forgiving, maybe. A doormat, probably.


If only I knew how to work the skill of being able to treat someone badly. How to follow through on the old wheeze of "you gotta treat someone rotten to have em stay near". As is, I start most times being nice and go straight to "I want to see you dead!" depending on how the interaction goes. No middle ground. I'd probably be too inconsistent in the application of the punishments and the rewards.


I've watched the TV reality show "COPS" a lot. The police respond to lots of domestic disputes where people of all types abuse each other; yet these shambling wrecks are still capable of being together with SOMEONE. I may not envy the total level of satisfaction in their lives, but goddamn, it makes me burn to consider the situation I'm personally in. Do I have to be in a drugged stupor to be able to have a someone to hold hands with? Consider the average, dour-faced couple you may have randomly glanced at: How did they actually first fit together? Was it their being together that made them clench up like dried figs? Packed when plump but conformed shaped to the one next to it in it's dehydrated end stage package.

"Good Mental Health" seems to be in all around short supply lately. Here I am dealing with my metabolic mild depression stuff issues and while still dealing with the day to day highs and lows, I'm also faced with a need for finding help for two friends: Ms. S with paranoia & paranoid delusions and Mr. W with OCD and drug addition. In comparison to my own troubles, both of them have way more immediate problems, than mine. So how is it that I'm the only one that even tried to get help? It's "Caregiver Gal" to the rescue again! Even though there's no thanks to it all whatsoever...and that'll probably trigger me down again.

In fact, after looking up all sorts of info regarding psychatric depts of local NY hospitals, it occurs to me to consider those in my immediate circle and review their behaviors: at least 75 percent of them have SOME kind of issue going on with them as well, and again, I'm the only one I know getting any kind of aknowledged treatment. Dad: raging manic-depressive, bi polar symptoms, Mom: neurotic clingyness, Oldest Sister: Fear of commitment, cold feet in a decades long engagement, Middle Sister: hostile alienation from the family, Sister-in-law: neurotic, OCD symptoms, Niece & Nephew: neurotic behaviors.

Am I really able to even joke that I'm crazy then, because in my little corner of Hell it seems to be par for the course behavior.

SO, I created a blog today. Too much of my angst building up in my head, so maybe spilling it out onto a web page will help ease the pressure.

Here's an image that I saved on the PC: I found it online and don't truly recall where it came from. I renamed it as "note on the street" and it probably came from my doing a simple search for "lonely" or "love". From time to time I open it up to ponder over it:

I remember reading some comments by other folks over the true meaning of the written phrase on the card - "Love you" where the word "you" has been underlined. Just what was the person intending to say when the note was written and how did it happen to be left in the street as it was? Was it just a casual scribble, or did the underlined emphasis of the word "you" have a deeper meaning? At times when I'm feeling down about my own lovelife, I look at the picture and wish that I had someone writing me love notes, but so far, not happening for me. I think of what it might feel like to have that special tingle of knowledge: my special person was /is thinking of me!

As for how it came to be in the street; was it lost or dropped by accident? Did the person miss it upon finding out it was gone, did they have a twinge of" Aw, shoot! I lost it!"? I feel envy that some people have so much love that they could bear to throw any proof of it's existence away.