I am kinda scaring the shit out of myself with this house stuff. Soo much to do, every day feels 4 days long. I take it in shifts and sleep only in naps. The last time I did this, 2008, the banks all shut down right in the middle of the process over the mortgage crisis, the historically worst time to be mortgaging anything. But I wanted the house. And I wanted my Greek. So I HELD steady.
Sooo many similarities of factors. Crazy interest rate fluctuations / financial sector meltdown, two houses on my hands, and a Greek who is not my boyfriend in the mix somehow. And leaving a home I had such high hopes of happiness in, dashed, now in search of a new plotline. Homesick by half over it.
The most perplexing aspect at the moment is the Greek. I don't know what to do with that. My Greek has been 1000% fickle concerning me for over a decade - so this one's sudden adoration is just plain odd and disturbing. If he weren't Greek, he would just be a guy, who would remind me of guys, who all sucked. But this one is texting me from Kingston atm like uncanny invasion of the body snatchers. Reminding me of the only man I ever loved whom I didn't wind up knowing as a son of a bitch. Whom I still like and even admire. But whose fickleness is, truth be told, another reason I have to leave this town because sitting here at his feet at the base of Canada is pointless and annoying.
Him: Valentines day is next week.
Me: Yeah. I hate that holiday. I buy puppies I will regret over it sometimes.
Him: I don't want you to think I am a lunatic. So probably 14 dozen roses would be overdoing it?
Me:
Him: Too much?
Me: No. (Yes!!!)
I remember the little single candy my Greek gave me in 2006, grumpily protesting that the holiday was just to trap men into spending money on useless crap. I thought it was so fucking cute.
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| I still have it. And his smell, unlike anyone else's on this earth, stuck in my nose. |
