drunkencynic's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- silence I wrote this while sitting at the coffee shop after work today. He is not at work. Normally this information would send me into fits and spawn loads of text messages, frustrated unanswered phone calls, and pointless worrying. Now it only makes me mildly curious. Doubtless he spent the night in [play town an hour and fifteen minutes away that also happens to be where creepy Alicia lives]. We all know what that means. But where has my paranoia gone? Why do I almost not even care? Has the obsession dwindled for lack of sustenance? Out of sight, out of mind, that sort of thing? Is it a temporary lapse? Or have I just been pushed too far? Do I really just not care? And suddenly I find myself obsessed with why I'm not obsessed. When I think of him, talking to him, spending time with him, etc., where I used to feel excitement, pain, longing, comfort, now I feel mildly disgusted. Is this what a few days' separation can do? Turn fiery passion into mild dislike? Is this me finally becoming disenchanted? Have all the horrid deeds and neglect and the jerking around finally caught up to me? If the few days' separation was the instigator and it worked so effectively, does that mean that it wasn't anything important to begin with? If love can turn so cool within the space of a few days, perhaps it was only lust instead. I don't even feel that burning need to possess him anymore. Not physically, not mentally, and not officially. This vaguely numbing feeling is surrounded by a kind of mild depression. Or is that just me thinking that the absence of thoughtless passion (in any direction- love or hate) equals depression? I've battled with him over a relationship for so long that the idea of me relinquishing the rights I've won now, of my own volition, when it's being offered to me feels inconceivable. And I'm so used to yearning for him every second of the day that now that I don't, I'm thinking about the absence of yearning. I'm also terrified it will go away. Passion is nice, but I've had so many ups and downs lately. It is incredibly refreshing to not need anybody. It's like with the cookies (purchased at the health food store, no sugar of course) I bought and ate some of today. I don't want the rest of them. I feel no desire for them. The thought of eating them makes me slightly sick. I know they're not good for me. But I know that when I eat them they're so good that they make me want more, which in turn confuses me into thinking that I need them and should probably get them over with already. If that makes any sense. Another reason that my desire to have contact with him has waned is because the other day he text-messaged me. "Haha, you have to wear an orange hat and a short short dress!" He was at a rehearsal for the show and they'd been looking at the costumes. I called him in a panic and we discussed it. I got all the details and declared, "I'm gonna have to not eat." (I have a notoriously bad relationship with my legs, so much so that I forsook shorts and short skirts/dresses years ago). He cheerfully added, "You only have a week!" That perfect guy in my head, the one who is modeled on my first boyfriend, would have replied, "Oh no, Sarah, you have beautiful legs. Every part of you is gorgeous. You are perfect and flawless and I love you." How on earth can I reconcile the two? I quickly made up some excuse to hang up, which he did without much protest. It is interesting to note that in the middle of all this silence from my end, there has been no attempt at contact from his end. Actions speak louder than words, especially when there aren't any. 6:34 p.m. - 2004-03-29 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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