Tuesday (Caution: Personal Content; Melodrama; Read at Your Own Risk)

I posted a long melodramatic and entirely too personal entry yesterday regarding my horrible weekend. I didn't publish it because it was too personal and should therefore remain so.

This being said, I am so upset right now I might just publish it anyway, and if I do, I'll tell you not to read it. I just need to do it for myself, because its going to take me a while to write a song good enough to express how this feels.

For now, dear readers, I will leave you with this entirely too personal blog.

I guess its just easy to do things that are familiar, even if the familiar things are bad. At least they're comfortable. When you're new to a place and unsettled, you'll find solace in the familiar, even if the familiar has the potential to rip your heart out and remind you of a person you used to be and who you're desperately trying not to be anymore. At least, though, its you and not some confused bizarre you with no identity because you are anonymous in NYC.

I'm all melodrama right now. I just lost a ten-year-friendship, probably the most important friendship I've ever had with anyone, on a Tuesday afternoon. Man. Instead of thinking about how pissed I am, I am thinking about how he brought me a Hershey Bar with Almonds when I was staying with my parents after things ended with The Sandwich Who Shall Not Be Named and I wasn't eating. I am thinking about how I never felt unsafe with him. I am thinking about how, one time when he was drunk, I asked him if he'd ever love me again and the perfect slurred response he gave.

I am thinking about how I called my mother last night to tell her what happened. I said, trying not to cry, "Ma - I need your advice - this is what happened - Favorite Ex-Boyfriend came to visit this weekend..."

She gasped and then sighed on the other end of the line, because I know how she feels about him and about us and the gasp betrayed all of the optimism she tries so hard to hide.

I had to say "No, actually..." and then told her everything about us. About how this very thing happened before and how I flipped out and how that time I was 25 years old and how I am (and we are) a stupid ridiculous pathetic pattern.

She was so disappointed. My mother is the only person who has ever encouraged me to continue having any sort of relationship with him (friendship or otherwise) because she adores him, and because she, like me, is far too patient with people, especially when people are not being nice to her.

I inherited my delusions from my mother.

And its awesome, because I just received a nonchalant email from him, my response to which has confirmed that I am insane and stupid and self-loathing, because all I can do is be delusional and miss the candy-bar-bringing memory of him.