I know it’s not on me, and I know it’s not my fault. Cause for once, I really did nothing wrong. Not even sort of wrong. Not even fucking someone else under questionable circumstances while technically in an open relationship with someone who’s actively sleeping with other people. I’ll revisit this at some point, maybe.
It’s funny, but even though I know I clean up nice, and my self-esteem is pretty healthy, sometimes I have an insane amount of insecurities. Which is weird. I mean, I’m ok, but I live with a girl of supermodel quality, you know? Anyway, that’s sort of beside the point.
I’ve always been “ok”. I think. I’ve been called beautiful and pretty (not too long ago, actually), and it’s extremely nice and flattering and all, but I’m not sure I completely believe it. Which is not the point either.
I think I’m pretty awesome. One of the things I’ve been proud of, and that’s despite me being absolutely terrible at keeping in touch, is being a good friend. I don’t judge, I let go, and I fully genuinely care. I want the people I know to be happy, and I’d rather take a hit than witness someone hurt. Maybe that’s part of the point.
What I know now though, is that the world is profoundly unfair. Which is really not the bad thing in itself, and could probably work out a lot better for me if I wasn’t so damn unlucky. Really, I don’t know any other person who is that capable of fucking up every situation.
These are largely ramblings, and there’s not much reason to them. I feel numb all over and at this particular moment try not to care about D not speaking to me. I think it hurts somewhere down the line, but I’m pushing it so far away I’m just ok. I still keep hoping he will call, or show up, or just tell me he misses me, because that’s what I want – I want him to miss me and I want him to love me, which is what I said to him last week. But only if he wants to. I don’t know what happened, but maybe it really doesn’t matter. My liver is recovering (even though I told K today I am going into “zapoy” and am self medicating with cheap wine and cigarettes – and I’m not a smoker), I hope, but I’m glad for sending him an email and letting him know what I feel. I have a problem with communicating and sharing feelings, but I did it. Perhaps not most eloquently (I can discuss politics after a day of dedicated intoxication, but get me to talk about emotions and vulnerability and I’m a freaking basket case with a vocabulary of a 7 year old), but small victories, right? Also, because I’m adamant about keeping my word, I simply can’t cave in and ask him what’s going on – I told him I will leave him alone if that’s what he wants. Since I’ve heard nothing back, I’m letting him go.
You know what I’m ridiculously disappointed about? Yesterday was international topless day, and I think D would really enjoy pictures of my nipples from the office. And I missed out on sending him those shots. That sucks. Maybe I have to sort of my priorities.