Thank god for kids. As much hell as they cause, omg the endless worry and the heartaches and regrets - no sane person would ever have kids! - and yet, they do awesome things like grow up and bring you for-nausea-weed and saltines and tylenol.
I feel like dogshit crying headache. And sorry that I broke down. I break down into veritas. I fight it. I stonewall. I crack.
Huck said maybe I won't like him now. Maybe not. I haven't enjoyed the huckleberry yes sorta joyride to the grim silent treatment a ton lol, but tbh that doesn't feel new from him re me. I didn't used to like that and still don't like it. But ambivalence is part of his nature, at least regarding women and work, which are always entangled. There's a part of the cycle during which I am the shit to him, and those times can be magical.
I don't think he would have liked me at all, the way I was the last few years.
I didn't like me. I left that me. She's in Pheonix, in Nebraska's head, a forever cunt. Like the stamps.
Why🤨?, he demanded, unphased by my feverish little lovesick tears, his harder-him-now flashing. Because through it all, I never doubted the love of it, the real thing of that, like the love you have for your kids, for your own. Instinctive. Regardless. Doesn't mean anything will work out. But I was a better (off) person that way, anyway. Braver, sweeter, calmer. I was a better me for him, tried always anyways.
And I was sexier, yea, but it ain't even about that rn. My witchwalks have been nothing but exhausted and g-rated. He is not. in. the. mood. . And his moods mystify me since fall 2024, when he started surfacing "divorced" with come-ons that were something else (what?). I concluded "Something is making him feel mean, has maybe made him mean; he doesn't want to be mean to me. Maybe he thought he did, but when it came down to it, no. Using me is not going to make him feel better.
I'm not people."
I went on to lose umpteen whatever more pounds and half my hair and go through more hell and on and on and on
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then, and it only got worse and worse until I was broken
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| autumn 2024 |
Thoeries: I was basically right re what we used to call "feeling mean and low" then, and now he feels like a crabby coiled exhausted viper a lot, nerves shot always. And he doesn't want to hurt me ("be mean").
Only he can say. But it is my experience that he has never felt meanly towards me or taken any satisfaction in my suffering at all. I feel less than no pleasure in his suffering, it hurts, and I have never felt like vomitting at his proximity.
And I just think those two people, we each, have suffered enough. I keep advocating for their release, unable not to think about it.
I imagine sitting at one end of the couch, only I don't feel like vomitting. And he sits at the other end, just not feeling like a crabby exhausted viper. That's it. We have that magic effect on each other for like 30 minute intervals. If he has more time than that, I vote we sleep, ❤️ the velveteen rabbit. Or we could lead with that!, even better. And we just keep seeing how long we can go / get to without 🤬🤮, like PT kinda.
I think I was trying to playfully suggest something like that but it just came out 😭 bc 2024 was a long time ago to keep this shit up. And he said all that hucklebees stuff like gotime and I moved to Poland and put him in the god damn prayer book with the rehab and I love yous (I know, I am not demanding to hear that, not unless we go behind whatever 3rd Base is now for the thrill of it, ok?) and but that was just forrrrever ago when it was warm out and I'm tired and I want him to tell me that I did good and can rest now for a spell, preferably held like a football 🐇. I started crying cz I am frustrated it doesn't come out right. I am not saying he should DO anything, I am saying I FEEL THIS WAY. Like he feels broken. I felt broken, and now I feel this. It feels kinda stuck in a long Tolstoy chapter and ya have like 200 pages to go before any damn thing actually happens, by the time Anna Karenina gets laid she was going to throw herself under the train over the headache anyways but it's Tolstoy 🤷🏻♀️ so wcyd.
I do have a wicked headache right now. And I gotta work tomorrow and go be "always fine" all fucking day, so I am gonna take a sleeping pill and not wait to wake at 2 a.m. I'm going there rn 😴
