last night I dreamed that I saw ex-otter at a punk rock show. he was wearing clothes that were mine. I kicked him in the shins and told him to give me back what he was wearing. he did. later, sitting on some bleachers, I tried on the clothes. they didn't fit me like they used to. I didn't really want them anymore. I just didn't want him to have them.
my roommate said, "that sounds so symbolic!" and it is. we are different people now. the things that once worked, don't anymore. and you can't go back. old habits don't feel right. the way we were has changed.
every time I see him in a dream, I think "there he is. how am I going to react?" as though I'm watching from outside of me. I'm always relieved that I'll finally see. I have punched him, kissed him, hugged him, ignored him, yelled at him, and now kicked him. I'm sure there have been other actions, too. I don't think any of them will be true. I've cried. I've screamed. I've accused. I had a dream a week or so ago that deafgirl called me with some problem. like because it was ex-otter's birthday it was ok for her to contact me. I let her finish talking, then I told her that I hated her. I said it plainly, and calmly, and with utter conviction. I told her that I hated her and I explained exactly why.
Talking to a friend today, I told him that sometimes I hold grudges. but I'm also very forgiving, if a person asks for forgiveness. if a person will own up to what they have done and ask that I forgive them, then I will. I do. small things I will overlook. things that were done accidentally, I will overlook. but I cannot forgive ex-otter and deafgirl. I cannot. they have never admitted fault. they have never asked for forgiveness. they hurt me terribly and I'll have those scars forever. whenever I think about getting back in touch with ex-otter, I think about deafgirl, and I feel blinding anger and I know that I can't do it yet. when I can think of her and feel nothing, then I will be ready.
I know that someday I will have to forgive them. I'll have to do it for myself, not for them. I can't let go of that anger yet. I don't know when I'll be able to. maybe when I have someone of my own to hold me and protect me. or maybe when I'm strong enough to feel secure without that.
these days. these stupid, worthless days. I miss shiny like an arrow in my sternum. spontaneously started sobbing today when I remembered that this was the weekend that I'd originally asked him to visit. I keep wanting to call him and ask him if he'll come. but we already had that talk. he doesn't think and I can't stop wanting.
I think if he asked to come see me, I would say yes. but I can't keep calling the shots. and I can't expect things of him unless I specifically ask. and I don't want to ask anything of him. these circles, these loops, these stupid worthless days.
when I was in the hospital, chick brought me the tiger that has been sleeping with me since my mom gave her to me on my 7th birthday. one night I dreamed that I saw my mom. I was sad, and she hugged me tightly. I woke up crying, momentarily confused because the dream seemed to have followed me awake. but it was just my tiger in my arms. and my mom was still dead.
two years since dru died.
things didn't feel solid then anyway. doesn't mean getting knocked off the boat into turbulent waters is any easier. because there's always the hope that maybe it won't happen. yes, things are horribly unsteady but there's the chance they'll calm down. clinging to that glimmer in the face of facts to the contrary makes the final fall so much worse.
maybe that's why ex-otter leaving me hurt so fucking much. shiny broad-sided me. there was no time to prepare or hope it wouldn't happen. but ex-otter gave me plenty of time.
like dru's death. didn't even know he was back on drugs. one day he was fine. the next he was dead. mom gave us a little chance, time to listen to the people around us comforting us with anecdotes of miraculous recovery. holding onto the most hopeless of hopes crushes you even harder.
rooting for the underdog only to be defeated.
and this is the difference between real life and fantasy. this is why I hate happy endings and romantic movies. it never, ever, ever ever works out that way. the two people that hate each other don't end up in love. there are no secret love notes to find or convenient coincidences. the people that are supposed to miraculously recover die. the people that are supposed to stand beside you no matter what, leave. couples break up and they don't go on to happy new relationships. sometimes they don't go anywhere. progress is lost. friends you thought would love you forever, stop. everything concrete ceases to be and it doesn't come back.
oh sure, anything can have a happy ending if you know where to stop. but life doesn't do that. we don't get to stop our stories.
when I was laying in bed, wracked with fever and coughing fits, feeling my heart flutter, I thought, "please just let me die." it seemed right. it was an out. all I had to do was not go to the hospital. all I had to do was just stay in my apartment.
but I didn't.
and now I have to deal with the consequences.
how fucking typical.
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