I go through these periods where I don't know what I'm doing here. I feel like I need to get out to save myself, but I feel like I can't because I have a certain responsibility to R. He is non-communicative, emotionally unavailable and sexually disinterested 100%.10:30 p.m.
I'm a lost boy. I'm unhappy. I don't know what it is. My life is not becoming what I wanted it to be; it isn't anywhere close to where I hoped it could be. I have no energy, no inspiration. I felt like I was gonna fall asleep at work today. Or cry.
Sophie has the ottoman against the front window with a blue tones Indian blanket on it to keep her from ruining it. She likes to lie there and look for something to bark at. We've already gotten into a ritual, and it's only been two days. I walk over in the morning, take her home until I go to work, then pick her up after work with Bayne and Jesse on board, and we go to the dog park. Then it's back to our house for the evening, and then back home for Sophie.
R&B have such a well-appointed house. They have a happy little life here. I'm not saying it's what I want, but I can certainly appreciate the appeal. Of course, I'd have to have a filthy rich boyfriend to live like this because I am 40 years old and haven't made the choices in life that would allow me such luxuries.
Handsome S who works for Sony was at the dog park tonight. The last time I saw him there, I put a note on his car door: Call me if you're heading to the park, I'll meet you there, or something like that. He never called. That's been about three months or so.
He's disgruntled with his corporate life. I think he is fascinated and slightly appalled by my life. I take his fascination as flirtation and I'm right there, even tonight, despite myself.
J said from the stage Saturday night, "Weve got a local celebrity in the house tonight. He's part of the Hey, Y'all Group." Oh, brother.
I imagined saying to him in our fantasy life together somewhere down the road, "I can't believe you said that! I hated you for saying that! But really, that was the only thing I could find to not like about you that night, and now look at us..."
Oh, brother!
R left me a note tonight: Where have you gone? I seem to have lost contact with you again. Or something like that. I hate that note. The last time he left something like that, I poured out my heart in a multiple-page letter to him and he barely responded to it, if at all. I don't recall anything. Why would I want to keep opening myself up like that for no return? I just simply can't. I love R, but I'm not getting what I need, and if I don't just tune him out sometimes, medicate myself more than I normally would, I'm afraid I would begin to hate him for his inabilities. And the fact that they are inabilities - deeply ingrained inabilities - makes me feel so much sadness for him and for us.
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