kiwifruit's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- What's love but a secondhand emotion? Here I am Tuesday, tired. After a stretch of looking damn cute at the office (if I do say so myself), I have returned to jeans and flip flops. Why bother? If I could wear my pajamas, I would. Of course now Industrial boy probably thinks I am in some deep seated depression over the demise of our non-existant relationship. Not so. Well, not REALLY. I mean, I was/am sadenned by the way things panned out. But I am not surprised. What happened? Well, I found some balls and finally told him that I couldn't do whatever it was we were doing anymore. Please, I had to scrape together what self-respect I had left and put an end to this. Saturday night, he calls at 3AM. 3AM!!!! He had said earlier in the day that he would call "later" because he was spending time with the mom and the sister - I'm thinking 11ish. Apparently not. I need to face facts here. A guy who is interested in you does not call at 3AM. Unless he wants sex (which this guy doesn't). So what does he want? And why call at all? And why, why, why ... on and on? Well, I drove myself crazy with all this all day Sunday and I still have no answers but I guess I never will. What hurts most is that really all I wanted was to be his friend, well ... his friend who made out with him every once in a while. I wanted to be important to him in some way - puleez, what was I thinking?!!? So I found myself waiting for the phone to ring Saturday night, watching Grease on TV, eating WOW Doritos (which by the way make me practically shit my pants), then eating a Chipwich (Christ!). Michael called a half dozen times to try and talk me in to meeting him and a bunch of friends out. How do I explain to him that I am in a v. bad mood because some dick-head is blowing me off? I tell him I am tired and my stomach hurts (geez wonder why). Then, I get dressed, put on make-up and manage to look pretty cute despite the fact that I want to throw myself out a window. I decide to go meet Michael, then I change my mind, then I change my mind again ... and then I decide finally I am not going. I go to bed at 2AM, toss and turn. Phone rings at 3AM I pick up "Are you fucking kidding me?" I ask. Still, he comes over, it is pathetic. I feel like a jerk, finally I say I can't do it anymore, just can't, want to, but can't. He's all broken up about it (yeah right), he says okay and leaves. Shit. I stand at the door and pound my head against it for awhile. Then I smoke like my hundredth cigarette and go to bed (4:30AM). Wake up Sunday AM in the mother of all foul, self-pitying moods. Call Michael at 11AM knowing I will wake him up out of his post night out slumber. Tell him I cannot wait for him to drag his hung-over ass out of bed to have brunch. I wanted to go home, do laundry, clean, wallow in self-pity with Sam. Was actually a nice day. Walked around the park with Liz, watched "All About My Mother", then Sex and the City (Big is back! V. exciting). Slept. Monday (yesterday), the Feet calls me, kind of last minute do I want to meet for a drink? Of course I do. Met with Loose first at Park Ave. CC. All about the publishing company, what a nightmare it is now (thank God I left), she seems very stressed, unhappy. I would go on but I know how much she HATES the world know ing her business so I won't. She reprimanded me for my behavior with Nick (not showing up to the Bday dinner), which I suppose I deserve but please, I am hard enough on myself I hate hearing about how awful I am from others. Then drinks with the Feet. Amazing. Very strange, very scary, very confusing. Don't know what to do with this one. It is strange to be with someone whom you have so much past with. It is nice to hear how happy I look. It is nice to be able to have a conversation with him. Then, as he drops me off (yes, kissed him) he is walking away and he says this "I am not going to play the bad guy here, so if that is who you want me to be I can't do it. You need to think about that." (picture dramatic music playing here) I go inside and ponder while I smoke a cigarette (can't smoke in front of him, he hates this). Still pondering ...
17:49:20 - 2000-08-01 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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