Dear Kay,
I am so sick of the fear.
I went to the city today to shop with Katie. We drove in, feeling ok, found a relatively cheap parking garage, feeling damn lucky. Step out onto the pavement, feeling bad. I haven't been in the CBD for ages, not on foot at any rate, and not to shop and it was panic stations pretty early on. Felt myself lift off, up and out of my body. You know the deal.
I actually haven't felt that in a while. Golden Plains was not that kind of panic, that was full-on, heart palpitations, sick stomach, dry mouth. This was almost peaceful in it's mind ending terror. This is what I've been so afraid of since I was 12, this sensation.
Anyway. It was not the end of the world, or even the shopping trip. I soldiered on, as one does in these situations. I bought two pairs of undies and some footless tights, and an Easter bunny on sale. And after three hours of being totally on edge I came home completely exhausted. And angry. I'm so sick of this shit.
Tomorrow night Squidge, Char, Katie and maybe some other randoms are going to Cherry Soul. This fills me with fear. I've been to Cherry Soul before, and it was awesome, and I even got up on stage and danced to Aretha Franklin in front of everyone, and did shots, and drunk dialled Michael one too many times. I was 19 and not afraid. Now, I'll be with people who love me and know me and tension.
Maybe I was anxious last time I was there, but it's four years ago and I can't remember. Fuck, it's almost criminal not to go to Cherry Soul for four years.
I just don't want to go there and be constantly monitoring my anxiety levels. And I know I will be, because I always am. Always, always, always.
Fucking fuck fuck.
Pardon my francais.
--K.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Sunday, March 16, 2008
March 16
Dear Kay,
He said it.
Last Friday, we were out and he told me he was thinking about staying with his mum for a few months while he finishes his PhD. Nothing wrong with that in principal, except that his mum lives an hour and a half away and I'd never see him ever again. I felt like I'd been slapped in the face with a trout. So I did the only thing I could, I faked a headache and went home to cry.
Except, unfortunately with him being kinda homeless, my home is now his home and he arrived an hour later to me crying on the bed and I had nowhere to escape to.
Awesome.
So there was quite a bit of awkward silence. I was really tired. Tired in general but also tired of the bullshit we seemed to be labouring under. All the unsaid words, all the unfelt feelings. I felt like I was the only one in the relationship, really. That I would never even consider moving an hour and a half away for three months, whereas apparently he was more than ready, and that it just shows how much more emotionally invested I am. And how I'm going to get absolutely caned.
Anyway. That was going through my head at a million miles an hour and I told him I was 'having a bit of a sook but it's too hard to talk about.' Because, really, this was my problem not his. It's not his fault I throw myself, all caution to the wind, too fast and too hard into relationships seemingly predetermined to fail. He asked me if it was about 'us.' I nodded. And he said 'I do love you, Kate.'
The whole world stopped, fell off it's axis, hurtled us all at a million miles an hour toward the sun.
There were more tears. Confessions that I didn't want him to go, even though I didn't want to be the kind of girlfriend who told him what to do, I also really didn't want him to go, like really.
He said he'd been canvassing the idea. He wasn't sure about it, he wanted to know how I felt. I apologised for fucking up his entire life and putting his PhD in peril but he says he couldn't have gone as far as fast without me. I like the sound of it, but don't believe it for a second.
But we'll work it out. It's looking more likely that he'll actually move in here, on a month by month basis. I'm not sure how I feel about it, because...well, it's a bit soon and I don't want to fuck it all up but then, it's better than him being an hour and a half away. If it really sucks I can kick him out, and he can leave any time (much rather kick him out, of course).
I wish I could ask you your opinion. I know it would help. I miss you.
--K.
He said it.
Last Friday, we were out and he told me he was thinking about staying with his mum for a few months while he finishes his PhD. Nothing wrong with that in principal, except that his mum lives an hour and a half away and I'd never see him ever again. I felt like I'd been slapped in the face with a trout. So I did the only thing I could, I faked a headache and went home to cry.
Except, unfortunately with him being kinda homeless, my home is now his home and he arrived an hour later to me crying on the bed and I had nowhere to escape to.
Awesome.
So there was quite a bit of awkward silence. I was really tired. Tired in general but also tired of the bullshit we seemed to be labouring under. All the unsaid words, all the unfelt feelings. I felt like I was the only one in the relationship, really. That I would never even consider moving an hour and a half away for three months, whereas apparently he was more than ready, and that it just shows how much more emotionally invested I am. And how I'm going to get absolutely caned.
Anyway. That was going through my head at a million miles an hour and I told him I was 'having a bit of a sook but it's too hard to talk about.' Because, really, this was my problem not his. It's not his fault I throw myself, all caution to the wind, too fast and too hard into relationships seemingly predetermined to fail. He asked me if it was about 'us.' I nodded. And he said 'I do love you, Kate.'
The whole world stopped, fell off it's axis, hurtled us all at a million miles an hour toward the sun.
There were more tears. Confessions that I didn't want him to go, even though I didn't want to be the kind of girlfriend who told him what to do, I also really didn't want him to go, like really.
He said he'd been canvassing the idea. He wasn't sure about it, he wanted to know how I felt. I apologised for fucking up his entire life and putting his PhD in peril but he says he couldn't have gone as far as fast without me. I like the sound of it, but don't believe it for a second.
But we'll work it out. It's looking more likely that he'll actually move in here, on a month by month basis. I'm not sure how I feel about it, because...well, it's a bit soon and I don't want to fuck it all up but then, it's better than him being an hour and a half away. If it really sucks I can kick him out, and he can leave any time (much rather kick him out, of course).
I wish I could ask you your opinion. I know it would help. I miss you.
--K.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Thursday, March 6, 2008
March 6
Dear Kay,
I am SO stupid. SO SO stupid!
Everything's just peachy, so I had to go and mess it all up AGAIN and make it all complicated and annoying and ugh, GOD. I will apparently never learn. And I just tried to talk to Lara about it but she listened for two minutes then started talking about her dramas, which were interesting but all I could think in my head was 'Squidge Squidge Squidge, you stuffed it all up, you're a dumbarse, Squidge, Squidge, Squidge.'
Ok. Look.
The last few weeks have been so great with Squidge. We've been getting closer and being more emotionally intimate with each other (I hate that term, but it's true, damn it). And he and his sis got kicked out of their place so she's lobbing at our joint, and Squidge is down at his mums on the coast and up at mine when he's in the city. Last weekend he was at mine pretty much the whole weekend, and it was lovely. It was all relaxed and we both did our own things but also hung around each other, and it was great. There was no pressure to be anywhere, or do anything, or for him to leave anytime soon, which most likely made me relax the most.
So, in the spirit of all that, last night he came back up to mine from the coast, and he'd lost his Golden Plains ticket but I found it for him, and he'd lost the address of this house interview he was going to that night, but I told him to go through his dialed calls on his mobile and he called them and 'confirmed' the address, and when he got back from the interview, we had dinner ready and I handed him a class of wine and sat him down at the table and it was lovely, and everything that was stressing him out was looked after. And I think he appreciated it.
And then we fooled around for a bit and I started falling asleep because I am SO tired right now, and then he got up to do stuff because he wasn't tired yet, and I was half awake and decided that I wanted to tell him I loved him again, just so that he would know, and maybe he would be ready to say it back. But rather than put him on the spot, I grabbed a bit of paper and wrote 'I hope I don't make you uncomfortable telling you this, but I love you.' And then left it on his pillow, and had the full intention of staying awake so that I could listen to him read it, but he took more than twenty seconds and I fell asleep.
I had dreams all night about being a Queen and telling the King how I felt, and he wrote what he was feeling down and I found it in the car and then when I opened it I realised he hadn't wrote how HE felt, he'd written how I felt and had it illustrated. And it was nice, but it wasn't exactly what I wanted.
I woke up and he was there and it was time to get up. I looked around the room for the note but I couldn't see it anywhere, and he was half awake but wasn't doing anything, just running his hand up and down my back when I sit up, like he always does. So I got dressed, wondering if maybe the note fell off the pillow, or he slept on it by accident, or he couldn't read it in the dark. And then I lay back down again for a few minutes and told him he was being especially adorable and it wasn't fair, and then I kissed him and he told me to have a good day, and I got up and left. On the way out, I saw his jeans on the floor and a piece of paper in the back pocket. It was the note.
So I know he got it, and read it, and understood it. BUT didn't do anything, didn't write me a note back, didn't say anything when I woke up, didn't...do anything, basically. Nothing. And of course I wasn't saying it so he'd say it back exactly, but I had hoped that he would. I had hoped that we'd got past this bollocks. And apparently not.
So now I'm very wtf? about the whole thing. First of all, I'm glad he liked the note enough to keep it. But why not mention it? Why not SAY IT BACK??? For FUCKS SAKE.
I'm like 92% sure he feels the same way. You couldn't have been the way we've been for the last few weeks without something there.
So, I'm not going to mention it. I'm also going to try not to let it turn to acid and erode the whole relationship. I don't want my neurosis to fuck this up.
And I'm hoping when I go home there'll be a note for me on the bed, or an email, or SOMETHING. But I know, really, there won't be, and it will hurt more than ever when I get home and discover nothing there. And I will get my hopes up, anyway, because I'm just that sort of girl.
I really miss you.
--K.
I am SO stupid. SO SO stupid!
Everything's just peachy, so I had to go and mess it all up AGAIN and make it all complicated and annoying and ugh, GOD. I will apparently never learn. And I just tried to talk to Lara about it but she listened for two minutes then started talking about her dramas, which were interesting but all I could think in my head was 'Squidge Squidge Squidge, you stuffed it all up, you're a dumbarse, Squidge, Squidge, Squidge.'
Ok. Look.
The last few weeks have been so great with Squidge. We've been getting closer and being more emotionally intimate with each other (I hate that term, but it's true, damn it). And he and his sis got kicked out of their place so she's lobbing at our joint, and Squidge is down at his mums on the coast and up at mine when he's in the city. Last weekend he was at mine pretty much the whole weekend, and it was lovely. It was all relaxed and we both did our own things but also hung around each other, and it was great. There was no pressure to be anywhere, or do anything, or for him to leave anytime soon, which most likely made me relax the most.
So, in the spirit of all that, last night he came back up to mine from the coast, and he'd lost his Golden Plains ticket but I found it for him, and he'd lost the address of this house interview he was going to that night, but I told him to go through his dialed calls on his mobile and he called them and 'confirmed' the address, and when he got back from the interview, we had dinner ready and I handed him a class of wine and sat him down at the table and it was lovely, and everything that was stressing him out was looked after. And I think he appreciated it.
And then we fooled around for a bit and I started falling asleep because I am SO tired right now, and then he got up to do stuff because he wasn't tired yet, and I was half awake and decided that I wanted to tell him I loved him again, just so that he would know, and maybe he would be ready to say it back. But rather than put him on the spot, I grabbed a bit of paper and wrote 'I hope I don't make you uncomfortable telling you this, but I love you.' And then left it on his pillow, and had the full intention of staying awake so that I could listen to him read it, but he took more than twenty seconds and I fell asleep.
I had dreams all night about being a Queen and telling the King how I felt, and he wrote what he was feeling down and I found it in the car and then when I opened it I realised he hadn't wrote how HE felt, he'd written how I felt and had it illustrated. And it was nice, but it wasn't exactly what I wanted.
I woke up and he was there and it was time to get up. I looked around the room for the note but I couldn't see it anywhere, and he was half awake but wasn't doing anything, just running his hand up and down my back when I sit up, like he always does. So I got dressed, wondering if maybe the note fell off the pillow, or he slept on it by accident, or he couldn't read it in the dark. And then I lay back down again for a few minutes and told him he was being especially adorable and it wasn't fair, and then I kissed him and he told me to have a good day, and I got up and left. On the way out, I saw his jeans on the floor and a piece of paper in the back pocket. It was the note.
So I know he got it, and read it, and understood it. BUT didn't do anything, didn't write me a note back, didn't say anything when I woke up, didn't...do anything, basically. Nothing. And of course I wasn't saying it so he'd say it back exactly, but I had hoped that he would. I had hoped that we'd got past this bollocks. And apparently not.
So now I'm very wtf? about the whole thing. First of all, I'm glad he liked the note enough to keep it. But why not mention it? Why not SAY IT BACK??? For FUCKS SAKE.
I'm like 92% sure he feels the same way. You couldn't have been the way we've been for the last few weeks without something there.
So, I'm not going to mention it. I'm also going to try not to let it turn to acid and erode the whole relationship. I don't want my neurosis to fuck this up.
And I'm hoping when I go home there'll be a note for me on the bed, or an email, or SOMETHING. But I know, really, there won't be, and it will hurt more than ever when I get home and discover nothing there. And I will get my hopes up, anyway, because I'm just that sort of girl.
I really miss you.
--K.
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