drunkencynic's Diaryland Diary



Well, congratulate me. And please stop reading here.

I've managed, once again, to somehow turn our situation (yes, that situation) in a complete 180. There's gotta be some kind of medal for this. It's getting to the point where I just don't want to write anything because I only end up contradicting it a few entries down the road (if not the very next one).

I guess the time was ripe for me to incite an argument because we started talking about fidelity, and he confessed that he wasn't positive he could manage it, and he wanted to make sure before we got totally serious, etc... and I asked who it would happen with if it did happen, and he finally admitted Alicia...(the creepy blonde 'ex-girlfriend' sort of thing) and he was also talking about photography, how it's turned into his major passion, and that's what he thinks about all the time, and he wants to pursue it, and he asked if I would get jealous if he photographed women, and I jokingly said, "Naked women?" And he said, "Well...yeah..."

Silly me. Of course that's what he'd want to photograph. How naive am I?

Then he proceeds to combine the two, and confess that "Alicia and I have some things we still really want to do, we think they'd be really cool..." Which, me being me, nearly kills me. Because I know how he works. He was probably fucking her, and then maybe afterwards when he was feeling all satisfied and sleepy, he was watching her lying there naked, and said, "Oh, Alicia, you look so beautiful, I just have to photograph you like that. It will be gorgeous. I just want to photograph you."

And if he does, he'll be telling her how gorgeous she is, and oh, you're so perfect, and maybe they'll be drinking wine, and he'll just have to touch her, and oh god, I love to torture myself, don't I?

So, like I said, this immediately turns me into a quivering pile of insecurity, and, typical of me, I start wanting to back out of everything. "This will never work, sorry, uh-uh, seeyoulatergoodbye."

It's not that simple though, oh no. We have to stay on the phone for an hour and a half going around and around in circles about whether it's a good idea or not. He also throws in the added bonus that he has this deep down feeling that we're too similar, that we should be friends, and we shouldn't be in a relationship together because we'd never progress, or something.

So you can imagine that by the end of this conversation I feel like a steaming pile of shit, and he's merely talking out his neuroses (and probably feeling quite good about them).

We part, he insisting that we don't talk for the next five days so we can 'think things through'. Well, maybe you need five days to think things through, Thoreau, but I know exactly what I want. You to stop being a fucking asshole.

He has confessed that when I flirt with someone in front of him (or even just talk to a guy) he cannot think about anything else, and it makes him livid. Well, welcome to hell, JR.

9:57 a.m. - 2004-03-25


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