6 October—I’m not sure what to say except that I am completely absorbed in my own miserable suffering. I hope this is the day I hear back from P. I miss him. I came to expect too much from him I guess. He loves me but he wants to be free from me most of the time. That’s what sucks. That I know this and still want him back is my downfall.
The Chowda Fest was yesterday. I went to try and stay busy, but I was painfully aware of how lonely and alone I was; besides, there were a million people and I became slightly claustrophobic. The day was beautiful though. The line was long but moved quickly. Angel and I went around and tasted all the white chowders, then the reds. Liam wouldn’t try any. By 2pm we were heading back home.
My uncle got very sick the night before and called for everyone to say goodbye. But, by the time my mother got there he was stable. What a shame. He’s only 65. My mother says he’s just skin and bones. Here is a man who got cancer when he was 30, back in the 70’s, and to get rid of it, they radiated his entire body. He has been suffering his whole life with sickness. Then again, they told him he’d only live to 40. Am I asking too much that he should live till 100?
I stopped with the birth control pills. Those, plus the Prozac has been too much. I just don’t like taking any drugs. My mother said that Uncle D is on 20 different meds. Good Lord.
I bought pumpkins and mums yesterday, cooked dinner and continued to read the Women’s Indian Captivity Stories. It’s been my only real consolation.
I never got my letter to the editor in the paper. So disappointing. It was a good one too. I don’t know what else to say. One thing is for sure. If P dumps me I’m studying for the GREs. I have to do something. I have to get to grad school in the fall.
3:15p.m.—I’m the biggest wimp. I can’t do it. I can’t refrain from writing to him. So starts the downward spiral. The new alignment of who we are. I fear I’ve ruined “us.”
8:30 p.m.—I am so upset with myself. I ended up texting P at 6 p.m., just to say Hi. He was completely nonchalant and laid back and tra la la, like nothing is fucking going on. I haven’t spoken to him in four fucking days and he’s like, “Yeah, I was going to see if you want to do something on Thursday.”
Huh? I felt like saying, I don’t even know you. Who are you?!
Maybe the Prozac is making me hostile. This is insane.
I am insane right now. My stomach is in knots.
Thank God I talked to C earlier and he calmed me. I am definitely with the wrong man. Kids, say goodbye to P. He’s history.
9:45 p.m. He said he misses himself. I was right. When I asked if he wants to break-up with me he said he doesn’t know. That that’s what he’s trying to figure out. I think on Thursday he wants to tell me to my face that it’s over.
God, this has never hurt so much. I am in excruciating pain. On so many levels. I’m drowning. Your appeal has been denied Ms. Shields, you are going to the death chamber on Thursday. I wish I were a different kind of woman. I wish I were strong. I wish I wasn’t so useless.