This weekend was good, low key. Friday night I wasn't up too late... Tim and I talked about politics a bit, which was good and refreshing. Saturday I was up way earlier than I needed to be, and we just really didn't do much of anything most of the day... and I was fine with that. I needed the down time, in particular after reading that book and realizing some things about myself.
We went down to the arts festival late in the day, but some of the magic of the festival is gone with the move to the western gateway. And I... I was constantly looking over my shoulder, simultaneously hoping and terrified that I would see Bruce.
I know it's a stupid fear; I'm reasonably sure he and Mary don't give up a weekend at the lake for something like this. I couldn't shake it, though. It cast a pall over everything.
I know, without a doubt, that it's better for both of us that he cut off communication in every way. I still have this emptiness, this ache, and it's not lessening, it's not fading. Someone said something to the effect of, well, it's like ripping a bandaid off quickly... the pain will go away faster. While I fully grasp the similarity of the concept, it's not working that way. It's not. I want to know when it gets easier, when it gets better.
I was in a mood by the time we left the fest. We went to Walgreens to drop off my prescriptions and then to Hy-Vee for beer. Back to Walgreens, where the pharmacist kept LOOKING AT PAUL when I didn't understand him. It made me unreasonably angry... I really wanted to punch him, wanted to grab him by the throat and make him LOOK AT ME, COMMUNICATE WITH ME, instead of trying to take the easy way out.
Most of the time I can deal with this. I'm used to it; after 31 years, there's no escaping it. But sometimes... I just can't handle it anymore. The little things build and build and build and I just want to scream or break something.
I have a lot of anger in me, still. I don't know if I'll ever get to the point where I can be past that, let go of my anger entirely. I have come so far, SO far, in the last ten years. In the last five. I still struggle with the anger, with the fear.
I need to go back to sleep.
1 comment:
you can be angy while not being an angry person. Hearing people usually only look at the person next to me when they want to say, "What the f*ck is this chick TAWKING'bout"
And it is typically a gesture or action that means youre not worth figuring out or onversing with.
Also seen in the henpecking wife who won't let her husbband explain herself, but constantly redefines everything he says.
In all situations it's disrespectful. Anger-worthy.
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