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Last night I was sitting in David's apartment, alone with Jasmine, his
cat, wondering what to do with myself. David had called me earlier to say
that he felt we had left on bad terms and that he had been brooding about
it all the way to New York and he wanted to call to attempt to put things
on a more even keel before he left for the Carribean. I was thrilled he
called, of course, but I ruined it again, by crying. I suppose things
were ok by the time we got off the phone, but I was drained. And then I
was sitting in his apartment, by myself, wondering if I had the
energy to go out and do something. Being in that empty apartment without
him seemed so . . . symbolic. A few hours of bad TV later, I called Ian
and Elle, who invited me over for some Chinese food. It took some
persuading, but I accepted. Elle's due in a month or so. You can feel Bun through her distended belly; she grabs up high and to one side and teases it through her skin, "I've got your ankle! What're ya gonna do now, huh?" They'll be good parents. Elle pointed out to me that I shouldn't sleep at David's that night if I was brooding about him. My thinking was that his sheets would still smell like him, as he'd just slept there that morning. But on my way home I decided to but mental health before my olfactory nerves and I went to my house instead. Of course, I still had horrid nightmares involving David and certain women I'm afraid of losing him to. Argh. I kept waking up, sternly telling myself as I tinkled that I wasn't going to dream about David any more, then going back to sleep to find that my dream self had once again been bumped for another beauty. Dreams are cruel: I had to watch him nuzzle them, speak kindly to them, then turn to me and say, "Oh, Heather, _______ is going to join us on Sunday night, you're ok with that, yes?" I nodded mutely, my soul wrenching apart as I watched him turn back to kiss her quietly without bothering to note my response. I hate how dreams intensify things like that. The humor came when it was my sister he was with. Not that it was funny in my dream (though I did get some relief as I felt I could openly and with justification object to him doing my sister and I reacted accordingly in my dream, thus letting out the built up tension from watching him with the other women), but when I woke up it gave me a moment of perspective; these are just dreams, after all, and come only from my mind and my personal boogeymen - I'll never have to watch like that in real life, even if all the rest comes true ('cept the sister part, which simply will not happen). ANYhow, fat lot of good it did for me to sleep in my own bed, huh? I mean, I wonder if I would've had worse or better dreams sleeping in his. Hmmmm.. So, I walked to the store for my morning coke. I chatted with Jen, got some sympathy there. I made Cinnamon Loaf for the May Day party at the House today, and had the dishes done and the kitchent clean in 10 minutes. I showered, I put on pretty clothes that sorta match but look good anyway, did my hair in sweet braids and put on a dusting of makeup. I look pretty enough. I just wish I looked happier before I went to a Beltane party, y'know? But life goes on . . . . | ||
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