5/26/00
"The sky is cryin'...can't you see the tears roll down my nose..."
It's official. Megan and I have, as of last night, officially split. Or maybe "unofficially," I really don't know. Suffice to say that she called me last night on her way home from the gym--around 7:00--and said "Faggot's coming over around 8:15 and we're going to go have a drink, do you want to come with us, or if you don't want to, that's fine..." Then the conversation turned to what was for dinner and I sat there realizing, that wedge is just getting bigger and bigger and bigger. So we went to eat, then on the way back I told her what I was thinking. And some other preliminaries were spoken. And then she basically said to me everything I've been thinking for the last several months...that we've both become totally different people, and while that's not a bad thing for us, it's bad for US...that neither of us really has had a chance to find out who we are outside of the relationship...that we need to...that it's no one's fault and that makes it even harder...that we both love each other more than anything in the world, but that just doesn't seem to be enough...that if we just stay together and wait for things to change, we'll be 20 years down the road still together and hating each other. So what we're doing is "taking a break" or whatever the fuck that means--neither of us are really sure what the parameters are of that concept. But we admit that we are still each other's best friend. And we still have to live together because we can't afford to sell the house and we both love the house and that house represents our whole life together so far and neither of us is willing to let that go yet. Hell, by 11:00 last night we couldn't even think clearly enough to work out sleeping arrangements so we just slept in the same bed as usual...but once I climbed in and realized that the first thing I wanted to do was throw my arm around her and kiss the back of her head, but that that seemed "inappropriate" under the circumstances, all I could do was cry again. I think I cried from 8:00 last night until about 1:30 this morning. And then first thing when I got up. My eyes look about swollen shut and I don't know how well that "allergy" excuse is going to hold up. And then this morning, on my way out the door...no hug, no kiss, no "I love you..." because it just didn't seem that's what we were supposed to do. And it sucks.
Because I agree with everything she said, but that doesn't make it hurt any less. Because I saw this coming a mile away, and instead, I tried to cover it up, make it MY problem, make it seem like it was just me being flighty and crazy and part of my chaotic and unpredictable nature. But it never was. It was real. I wasn't hallucinating. Dammit, I've never been so upset about being wrong.
So now we've got the weekend to ourselves...just us...all of our friends (pretty much) have travel plans for the weekend. What really sucks is that after we cleared the air last night, we got along better than we had in months. And she's everywhere. There isn't one part of my life that doesn't in some way reflect her. And I'm not sure that I want it any other way. I don't want us to not live together, I don't want to not be able to talk to her, I don't want her to not be a part of my life...but I don't know how to do that. I don't know how to let go that much and yet not let go completely.
Fuck. I'm crying again. The swelling on my eyes is never going to go down. At least I had the good sense this morning to wear waterproof mascara.
And L e-mails me this morning taking me up on yesterday's offer to buy him many beers (for giving Faggot some legal advice). I'm beginning to think he probably just wants to screw me. Hey, at least now I can see things for what they really are...evidently my mental health journey is making progress.
Boy, did I EVER pick the wrong time to cut back to therapy every other week. I can't even look at anybody right now. I feel pretty, oh so pretty...
I don't know where to go from here.
There's a Maria song, "This Property is Condemned," and every time I hear it, I can picture myself working as a blues singer in some dirty little two-drink minimum bar in New Orleans. Then yesterday I realized that I have educated myself into a trap. I can't afford to live that kind of life because I have student loans to pay off. And maybe that's not even the best life for me, anyway. Maybe it's my destiny to go to law school, date and eventually marry L, live in a house that could appear in House Beautiful, and be some big shot litigator somewhere.
That's not what I want at all.
I want to have enough money to cover living expenses and manage to live fairly well and have money to go places here and there, but nothing extravagant (I can take or leave Europe). I want to do work that I find enjoyable, regardless of what it actually is. I want to have friends. And I want to be with Megan.
I keep reminding myself of all the people I know who have split up only to get back together and live happily ever after. My friend E's parents were actually divorced until she busted her arm and they met at the hospital and have been together ever since. S and the guy to whom I lost my virginity. One of Megan's old coworkers and her husband. Even my sister and the dumbass-in-law. So maybe there's hope. Maybe we'll recognize that it can work out, once we work out our separate issues and figure out where we fit in to each other's lives. Maybe "happily ever after" can exist.
It's just the possibility that it doesn't that really has me going right now. The voice in my head that says "what if this is it?"
To hell with quitting smoking and losing weight. This is going to be a Pepsi, chocolate and nicotine-filled day.
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