Here We Are Again

Its 4 A.M. and once again sleep has eluded me. I did the dishes, took out the trash, swept and mopped, then sat down and watched a movie. Still wide awake. Today was a difficult day.

Rob came and picked me up and I stayed the night there. I suppose this would be two nights ago now. He told me he missed me, how he realized how much of an idiot he had been and how he needed me to go with him. I told him id need to think about it and we'd have to talk about things. A few cigarettes and me taking care of him (forcing him to eat some bread and drink some water due to heat induced nausea) later we slept. I took the couch, he took the bed.

He didnt offer to have me sleep on the bed with him. I mean, it makes sense. Its A small bed. If we cuddled though we could have made it work. I wouldn't have done it though. I'm tired of being treated like a yo-yo. In the end all I am for him is a friend he can use to scratch an itch his female fiance can't ever reach. That and a safety net he can land in whenever things get too rough.

I drove home the next morning because he was too tired to drive. Neither of us had gotten much sleep. I'm used to it though. On the drive there we did a little talking punctuated by long minutes of silence. I told him no. I can't go with him. Not only would it be difficult for me to afford, the emotional trauma id face being in love with him and seeing him run back to her after every time we touch would kill me. Although I didn't tell him that part. I can't bring myself to hurt him.

He broke down into tears, told me again how much he needed me, how much he needed his best friend. That stung. We were more than that once. I guess its time for me to let go. I just don't know how.

Now I lay in bed wondering if there ever was a time when I really was happy. Sure, there are moments when a fleeting happiness strikes me, but there always seems to be some lingering sadness or doubt somewhere in the back of my head. I see people all around me all the time and I wonder if they feel it too or if I'm just crazy. My mind is self destructive and I hate it. I need therapy, but from experience therapy only works as long as you remain going and life long therapy sessions is not something I look forward too. Neither does my wallet.

And how would that look? As if I didn't have enough working against me already. I suppose actually going to a therapist takes it from wondering if I'm crazy to really being crazy. It makes it real. And who wants to be with some crazy guy? I mean think about it. If you found out someone you were considering dating had regular therapy sessions you'd be running for the hills. Crazy isn't attractive. Well, I guess Rob would beg to differ.

When Life Gives You Lemons...

Have you ever heard the saying that goes, 'When life gives you lemons, make lemonade'? What do you do when, instead of just giving you lemons, it starts pelting rotten lemons at you? What happens when so much happens to you that you start to feel like some soap opera producer is the one writing out your life, or you feel like your life would make millions if displayed as the next big reality show. Let me go over the events that have happened since May.

It all started with getting this new, amazing, job that pays more than I've ever made before. Because I was making so much money, I got an apartment my roommates and I could just barely afford. Then, the week after moving in, we all got strep throat. My roommate and I worked together, both missed work because of it, and lost our jobs.

Then, the guy I was dating just up and disappeared. It was his way of dumping me. I went through a couple of of jobs and fell even more behind in the bills. Then the most incredible man I've ever met walks in to my life. I couldn't help but fall hopelessly in love with him. He isn't perfect. Far from it in fact, but to me he was perfect. And he paid attention to me. In a time when shit was all going wrong, he was there and made things okay. We became more than friends.

I worked a couple of more odd jobs but still kept falling more and more behind on bills. We were going to lose the apartment and there was nothing we could do. Then, he breaks up with me. His ex-girlfriend, who by everything he told me was bat shit crazy, found out we were dating and flipped out. Apparently he never ever exactly told her she was an ex.

He then goes down to California and I lose all contact with him for a week. I worry sick, hoping he's okay. Then, he comes back suddenly and says he needs me to go to the hospital with him. She gave him herpes. And hes now engaged to her. This is the woman who gave him herpes and in the past has cheated on him and lied to him, saying that she was on the pill, just to get pregnant and trap him in a relationship.

She got an abortion and was literally sent away to the crazy house. But now he's engaged to her because he thinks he loves her and he thinks he might have a happy life with her. And he thinks he could never be with anyone else because he has herpes. But, still I remain, the best friend who is hopelessly in love. He then goes back and forth trying to decided if he should stay with her. He chooses her and decides to move to California for school and stay there. With her. The kicker? He wants me to go with him. I stupidly say yes.

I begin to prepare to move to California. I lose the job I was working because they found out through a friend who used to work there that my ex got herpes. I became a liability so I got fired. We are also still having sex. Then, all of a sudden, he explodes on me. He said I was using him for his money, I was lazy, I was this and that and all this bullshit and he didn't even want to be friends anymore, let alone have me go with him.

We get things settled and we remain friends. Things are back on track. I make the final preparations to leave. Then. He decides we should still be friends, but he doesn't want me to go anymore. Since he'll have her, He doesn't need me there. That's when I realize he's just been using me. I was just something to take the edge of his sexual frustration.

Now, here I sit, about to shower so him and I can go to dinner one last time. I move back in with my mom tomorrow and its the last time I'm ever going to see him. Yet, despite all of this pain, the drama, the completely ludicrous events....I still love him. I'll still worry about him every day. I'll still think about him.

How is that for one hell of a rotten lemon?