06/21/00 (cont'd)
"...and to the one you thought was on your side...she can't understand...she truly believes the lies...seems I keep getting this story twisted...somewhere someone must know the ending..."
Today marks the fourth year of Megan's and my enmeshment. We think. Give or take a few days. We've never really been able to pin it down to an exact "anniversary" date. We know we left for New Orleans on the 17th or 18th of June...we "hooked up" the second night. Of course, she then dumped me like, three times, only I just wouldn't go anywhere. So we're not really sure when this lovely togetherness actually started to roll. So for the last three years we've decided that whole time between June 18 and 21 would do the trick, only we always seem to forget, and a week or so later one of us will say, "hey, last week was our anniversary." And the other will say, "Oh, yeah, that's right."
So, so contrived.
She told me over the phone a while ago that she was going to send me flowers in light of our 4-year milestone, but thought that, since we are sort of "not together," it would be "pathetic" to do so.
Probably, yes...but it would have been sweet.
That's another thing--Megan is soooooo not about creating movie moments. I don't know if she just doesn't think on that wavelength (she's really not a very creative-type person) or if she just lacks initiative. But it seems like this whole time, there have been many missed opportunities for her to express herself.
If she had sent me the flowers anyway, would my heart have absolutely melted? Would I have called to say thank you and then the conversation would have turned to I'm sorrys and I love yous and then, at least for a little while longer, things would have been better between us?
Somewhere, someone must know the ending. And if they do, I sure as hell wish they would let me in on the secret. It just seems to me that there are too many hurt feelings here, too many ties that have already been broken and would take an unimaginable effort to repair. That's really sad. Really, really sad.
I think I am definitely feeling a "cold" or something coming on...I think by 7:40 tomorrow morning, it will be hitting me with full force...and I will certainly have to call in sick. Bummer.
I am so glad that I only have 7 days left of this fucking pit of misery. Six if I call in sick tomorrow. Yee-hah...
"...heard she'd gone moved into a trailer park...so sure we were on something...your feet are finally on the ground, he said..."
I need a gin and tonic. Actually, make that a 3-day drunk.
But wait, there's more...
