imwithjonas's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A Million and One Things NOT to Do. Ever. A Million and One Things NOT to Do. Ever.Oh friends, life was so good for a time. Alas, no longer. First of all, never tell someone they only sleep with you out of desperation. It's not a good idea. It doesn't turn out well. See, JW and I have been getting along fantastically. The sex was fabulous; the hanging out was fabulous; everything was fabulous. But I do have that pesky condition. Living with depression isn't very hard. See, the only real problem is that you occasionally think things that are untrue. I happened to think at one point, "JW only sleeps with me because he's desperate." And then I said it aloud. To him. I know. I'm a dumbass. I shouldn't have said that. Stupid me. JW was upset. Extremely upset. Extremely upset doesn't even begin to describe how upset he was. So all that we had or might have had is over. He's willing to speak with me, hang out with me, etc., but the sex is over. According to him, the sex is all that is over. He's wrong. I saw him last night. The sex isn't all. Here's a short list of things that are over aside from the sex: That's really not all. That's just all that I can think of in a moment's notice. In short, I miss him. I miss him desperately. I miss him touching me, holding me, well, you read the list. I miss all of that. I miss the vague security that he probably isn't sleeping with any other women because he's sleeping with me. I miss him doing things to make me happy. Fuck. I'm not going to carry on with this. It's depressing. It's repetitive. It gets old. You should also not take a roommate who is likely to skip out right before rent is due. My roommate and I have become fantastic friends. Babs is a lovely person, truly. I must say that life with her has been fangoriously interesting/entertaining. We were accosted in our home recently by a man with a gun. At that point, we made the decision that we would move. Since that time we have looked into some options. Well, apparently Babs gave up on the options. She has found a place to stay rent free. I can't stay there, but who the fuck cares. She's safe, and doesn't have to worry about paying bills. So, I'm apparently stuck in the ghetto, by myself, without a roommate for rent sharing purposes. I have four days in which to figure out what in the hell I'm doing. This doesn't strike me as likely to end well. My first reaction when Babs filled me in on all this was to burst into tears. I got off the phone with her and screamed something to the effect of "You goddamn bitch, I fucking hate you!" I threw something. I yelled at her dog. Now I have mixed feelings. I don't blame her for moving. I do blame her for moving WITHOUT me. I love her and don't want to be angry with her, but I really can't help but be a wee bit pissed the hell off. So, I may die. I may live in a cardboard box. I'll likely never have sex again. I may go completely nuts this coming Thursday when I go see JW's band play and kill someone. The someone may or may not be myself. What will happen? The answer to that question and perhaps a few more in the next installment of... WHAT THE FUCK HAS HAPPENED TO MEGAN'S LIFE?9:35 p.m. - March 01, 2005 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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