August 25, 1999

Had a dream about Tony last night (well, this morning) and I almost made myself get out of bed and write it right then and there. But my computer wasn’t on (which is why I’m leaving it on with a word program running at night from now on) so I’m writing it now. Maybe I’d remember more if I’d written it right away; I don’t know.

Anyway, in this dream, we got married. The weird thing is that most of my dreams are stories; they’re plots with characters and real events. This was just a series of images out of my eyes and a TON of innate knowledge. The prominent image was being in a limo after the actual ceremony. I remember my dress got in the way. The sick thing is, I pretty much know what the dress is. The arms and part of the top were gauzy material done in an old-fashioned lace design. It had a bodice like the dresses I write about on CDI, and a plain rustly-kinda skirt. A plain dress, but one my parents could afford. That’s the image that stuck with me.

It’s a far cry from the dream I had the night Tony left. Was also about him, but it was a more abandonment-like dream. We were in this group of people somehow, like a large family or a big dorm, and I needed help but he was too busy with them and wouldn’t help me. Don’t need a psychologist to figure this one out, folks :P Nor do I feel like serving up my abandonment issues out on a platter. I think by now its relatively apparent that I don’t have the best self-esteem in the world. When I’m depressed, I fall into wondering why on earth anyone would want to be with me anyway.

Speaking of depressed, I flipped out today. I really don’t know why that happens. It reminds me of what happened when I was a kid. When I was 10-12, I’d simply freak. Occasionally (once every few months) when I was alone and knew I’d be alone for a few hours, I’d do things like scream, cry, throw things . . . and eventually curl into a sobbing ball. At that time, I could believe my friends simply pitied me, that no one really loved me. I don’t feel that now, but that same hopelessness exists. These things last an hour or so, in which I find every reason in the world why I’m worthless and why my life is never going to get any better, and once I cry myself into a headache and dizzy spell and calm down, it’ll eventually go away. I really don’t get it. It’s kinda like a mood-spasm. Of course, that’s me. I snap from mood to mood to mood the way some people change lovers or shirts. I just feel bad for Tony when I go through those things. In a way, I think it’s harder on him than it is on me, because he thinks there’s nothing he can do to help me. In a way, he’s right. I have to let myself be depressed and cry. I should have just gotten off the phone when it started, but I knew if I ended up alone like that, I wouldn’t have gotten out of it til tomorrow or so. So, yes, Tony, you help – very much. Just by being there and loving me.

I’m not certain I can take the next four months. Of course, I am certain I have very little choice but to. I’ve found I crave daily affection; indeed, I need it. I understood this about myself, logically, a long time ago, but since I’d never experienced daily affection, not having it didn’t matter. I’ve experienced it now. Being alone is going to be horrible after I’ve gotten used to kisses for no good reasons, to him trying to keep me snuggled in bed with him as long as he could, to simply having someone. It’s going to be hard, but I suppose I have to deal since I’m not shallow enough to choose getting some daily affection now over what I have.

It’s 1:30am, should I be going? Probably. I’m getting the cable modem back tomorrow so I can put these entries up on the web – from Dad’s computer. He has to fix the network before my computer will work again. But at least I’ll be able to talk to people online again. I can send emails for Chrissakes. But for now, its time to go.

Amanda Weiss, signing off.