September 14—Today, I began taking Prozac. Fuck birth control. I need the happy pills because I am miserable. Yesterday under a blue, cloudless sky, there was no sex, no kissing, no touching and no willingness to talk about sex, kissing or touching. I keep playing the trauma of C over and over again in my head. I know what’s coming. Sexual anorexia. Sexual starvation. He’s moving farther and farther from me. I know it.
If P and I were just friends the day would have been perfect. We drove through Adamstown and stopped in a few dusty antique shops. I found this beautiful old black iron match holder and just fell in love with it. P too thought it was the coolest thing, and I realized it would have been too much for him to afford, and so, I bought it for him. I ended up buying this weird looking “page turner” with a dark man carved on it for myself. We ate lunch at Stoudt’s Brewery, which is where C had tried to take me for two years but we never managed to get there. All that waiting was kinda worth it. It was this cool Pennsylvania bar and restaurant with down home PA dutch fare and antique mall right next door. We sat in a quiet corner and took in the wall decor for a good long while. Then, we talked about taking off and living for a year in Oregon with the kids in some rustic house in the mountains. Oh, what a dream that’d be. I’m going to start looking into it today. Meanwhile, it probably meant nothing to P.
Anyway, we got home by dinner and P stayed until about seven and then left. I was alone for the night. No kids. No friends. Nobody. Trying to get into a single-girl groove. I watched Erin Brockavich hoping it’d make me feel better but it didn’t. It only made me once again long for that sense of separateness from a man. It made me wish I finally had something that defined me other than a man. I want to move in that direction. I know I do. I just can’t seem to do it.
And, sometimes the pain is so bad that I lose it, like now. How can I be so confident one day and fall apart so easily the next? And why on earth do I still have the same problem I had two years ago??? History is repeating itself. I am once again with an avoidant pot-smoker. Is it me? Or is it them? How do they find me? How do I find them? Argh! Is it because I am still needy, I’m still wanting, I’m still hungry? How do I stop this insatiable need to fill myself? How do I feed myself? How do I feel full? I thought I’d come so far. But I see I am at the bottom.