Less like a lake.

Yesterday, she took the day off work to take the bus to Halifax to visit him.

She got up at 9 am to do this - she rarely wakes before noon. 

When she came home (with flowers), she tried to laugh about it and tell me I was just tired. She won’t speak to me now. She told me she didn’t see why it was a big deal and that I should accept it by now. She won’t speak to me now. She told me I was the most aggravating person she had ever met. <3.

So, no more secrets.

She hasn’t spoken to me tonight since we left my brother’s apartment, because I’m “so fucking rude.”  Selected quotations: “I don’t even know who you are when you act like that…let me out of the car…I’d rather be freezing in the cold wandering around Halifax all night than being in this car right now…your actions disgust me…”

All of this because I did not talk to the guy she is currently taken with.  In her defense, I did not talk to him.  In my defense, she gives her all to make their time together awesome.  I barely get an iota of effort.  I’m not sure if effort is necessary, but I’m not sure why I should feel like second best.

There are too many lies in this relationship, on both sides.  Her mind has wandered over and over.  I’m not sure why I care, sometimes.  My accomplishments and actions don’t have the potency they once did.  I’m starting to feel only slightly useful, and only in doing the mundane things: doing laundry, washing dishes…

When she had her encounter with Rainforest, she told me she didn’t think it was a big deal, and similarly to Adam, thought I was an asshole for not being extremely warm and friendly with him.  She almost kissed him, and I am the asshole for not being accepting.  This is logic.

She doesn’t realize that I always look out for her, always.  If I can’t ‘take’ what she gives me, I’m less of a man.  Now she is sleeping in our bed.  The last thing she said to me was “you are annoying me. Close the door.”

I know nothing is ever perfect always.  I never thought I would date someone who would meet her friend for late night cigarettes.  I hate cigarettes.  After Liz, I didn’t think I’d ever let someone push me around or fuck with my emotions again.  Now I am in the cycle again.  It’s not whiny bullshit; it’s simply a matter of trying to understand why I stick it out.  She’s stopped having sex with me.  She is sometimes nice to me.  She spends all of her time making sure she looks good for work.  She doesn’t do anything around the house. Sometimes she talks about what dog we are going to get.  This winter she tried to break up with me nice.  Sometimes she’d rather be hanging out with her friend Laura, the chain smoking stinky hippie.  I’m weird.  I don’t like Laura, at all.

Her consistent defense is that she shouldn’t have to reassure me. She also says my weirdness and insecurity is all in my own head (and that is true, to an extent).  But she knows how to push the buttons, and she likes pushing them.  It gives her power.  She likes the power.  It keeps me jumping through hoops to try and make things better and better - the small things are no longer enough.  Fuck that: the big things are no longer enough.  I am no longer enough.  Besides: I have light brown hair, pale skin, and blue eyes.  She has always preferred dark skin, dark hair, and brown eyes.  Doomed.

She has called me annoying for the past week or so.  I am completely aware of why she calls me this.  She is not aware of what she says. Patrick is her “male double” - but “I have no obligation to tell you about him”.  Clearly, divine.

I love her.  This has never been the question.  Maybe it is not meant to work? I don’t think that way.  I don’t want to entertain the thought.  I can feel her sliding away, in her usual nonchalant way.  I have to do something.

I took the day off work today.  I was up until about 4:30 am, trying to sleep on the couch.

The constant state of flux. 

The truth, sad or holy, is that I need to talk to her.  The emphasis on everything outside - appearance, work, non-communication - is a death trap.  I’m not into askew balances or sub-pars.  I’m not asking for much, besides common courtesy.  I’m wondering why that exists for the outside.

The text was illegible. 

Don’t push it, ok?

When I was in grade 11, I used the five minutes between classes to find out where my ex-girlfriend would be walking to and from so that I could intercept her at every chance; not to say anything, but just to see her.  It’s a fairly strong example.

It’s quite simple. I used to think of you in films.  Now I see you in pictures.I’ve hesitated a while to create this, but I think it’s for the best. Goal for tomorrow: Do not ask questions.