ah blog, how comforting you are...

i am now waiting for my potato curry to cook. should i have cous cous too? i wish i didn't have to keep comments of blog, sometimes, so i could ask you, loyal readers, if i should have cous cous with my dinner.

however i'm far too fragile to face the wrath of angry teenagers. sorry, angry teenagers. and thus, sorry regular readers. i am sure you'd love to comment on the presence or absence of cous cous on my dinner.

UPDATE - curry had cous cous added. was not quite enough liquid for it to work really well... sigh...

i'm going to get out my old dragon shawl and work on it... see how i feel a little later, if i'll sleep or get knocked out. the dreams are starting to be foul, dream after dream of him and her, laughing at me, him kicking dust in my face. the amusing ironic thing is that i broke up with HIM because of how he treated her. i thought it was shit to be leading someone on for a game, even if you did have feelings for them, when you'd never date them due to being in love with someone else... ohhhh that's funny.
hope you are 'resolving it' nicely now.

sigh. i am too tired to be angry now. too tired to care. this horrible sick resigned feeling of being used, of being tossed aside. of being too hard. of being not good enough. of being less interesting than someone he claimed was not that interesting. this crushes me. see, if he'd told me how wonderful she was, like i heard about j, his other partner, i'd be ok. hurt, but ok. i would see why, and how, and get it. i get why he loves j, totally, because she sounds incredible. i watched a dance performance she did, on you tube, and it was breathtaking. i know how they met, and it's moving and beautiful and he painted it romantically and magic like. i know what he loves about her, and what frustrates him, and why she is complex and wonderful, in a way that never made me feel as though my relationship with him was lessened, or he was lessening his relationship with her. both of us were treated with respect, and love, and caring when he talked about her, and i appreciate that so much.

but i got left for someone he used to make me jealous. i got left for someone he just whinged about. i got left for someone i Broke Up With HIM due to how he spoke of her. and then, i thought we could work on it. i thought he could be less of a cunt about it all, and communicate about what was really bothering him, rather than strange excuses, and strange things. but it was aparently too hard. he had 'some sort of strange real feelings for her,' that had taken six months to come out. stuttering 'there is... an... attraction there...' you know what's better? giving me a damn idea about what makes her worth it, then i can live with it. i don't feel like i've been superceded by someone else for no reason. all i got was complaints, whinges, confusion, oh do i like her? i hate her this week. i am just doing this for ... insert stupid reason here... never about her, just about him, just about the stupid stupid stupid reasons. but never her. i never got an idea about what he loved about her. and when i asked? 'comforting. easier. easy. she's closer in age. i don't explain things well.' this makes me feel used and pathetic and NOTHING.

it's too late now though. i am so tired of this. i am tired of him. i am tired of what he did to me. i am tired of this. i don't need reasons now. i don't Want them. i want to stop hurting. i want it to all stop. it just keeps running backwards, oh max, oh emily, is this karma for fucking up with you too? cause well, yeah, i fucked up then, and this time, i tried really hard, and it fucked up around me. so don't worry, you don't need to hate me, the universe sorted this all out for you.

i didn't mean to wreck things. i really didn't. i just tried to talk about them. i tried to give him what he wanted. i tried to be the best possible person to him that i could. and i feel like i did all this, and all that happened was i am stuck working in a building reminded of those moments, oh that time behind the building the first time i went out with you to get a cigarette, you liked my docs, i saw you looking at how i stood, i watched you smoke, your lips curling around cigarette, inhaling, that strangely fast way you smoke, and i wanted to touch your face. this is before i even thought you'd possibly be interested. i longed so much for that moment you'd match your words to what you said when you looked at me.

that room upstairs, oh god, i cannot step in there now, 'i just asked you here so i could hold your hand'... that way you looked at me, so hungrily, so lovingly, oh god, oh god.. and over drinks, 'i think you are pretty, and i really want to kiss you,' street theatre, little bar, we walk home, we walk, you touch my feet softly as we listen to music... oh god.. and we were drunk, we were drunk, and i kissed you, in my bed, or you kissed me, and, oh god...

there is a collection of these, and i know writing them down and getting them out is how i heal. there will be entries like this, and readers, i'm sorry. i really am. but i will not hold back because of who is reading this, because it's my space. and i am not making it private in case it upsets someone, because it is my space, and i am so upset that i need something, and i'm sick of making my decisions based on what's happening to others, now.