Sweet & Sour (that's me i guess)

I'm glad no one reads this because I think I need to have a post that will be uninteresting, possibly disdain-inspiring, to read.

I have been sleeping almost all day, and crying almost all night since he came home, peppered me with questions, then left again. I need to know what I am going through, and I can't say I'm sure at the moment.

I will make a list and force myself to fill it, even if it makes no sense. This exercise shall be called: why I am upset

- I feel that my boyfriend does not understand me. I live with him, he loves me, but he does not understand me. Murph understood I wasn't doing well just from a few late texts or some otherworldly murph-sense, but Sweet knew I'd worked a brutal week, then heard I hadn't gone to the salon, that I'd slept all day and that I'd bailed on a free Rancid concert with a good friend, and his only reaction was to try to get me to come down to the fest. When he came home (late, but not ungodly late as I'd expected), he asked me how I was as though it were not obvious. He peppered me with several more questions as he rushedly changed. Turns out he was not home to stay, but to quickly drop off the truck and change, then go out for beers with the Island King and co. He left. I laid down. I cried. He came back (turns out he was not gone) and asked what was wrong. Offered to cancel his plans. I said no. He said he would only go for one drink. I said that was ridiculous and why half-ass. He said he didn't want to leave me crying. But then he did.

in short: he does not understand me, he cares for me in my delicate state (sad, anticipating, anniversary) only when I ask for it (and then I feel guilty for keeping him from doing what he truly wanted, and also feel small because being with me was NOT what he had truly wanted).

Whew. Ok, what else, that is not about Sweet.

...man, this writing thing is not working.

He's still not home. :(

Hello.

To write this blog, i am inspired by Gregory David Roberts (currently reading), but mostly by the sweet one, who is a writer. He is taking a place in my life that is unprecedented although always (secretly, sometimes shamefully, often skeptically) hoped for. I am in love with him, and I could never say that about anyone before.

It's new, and it's bizarre to me that the first taste you get of me will be me, in love. For twenty-four years I have not been in love, and now that I am, I feel like one of those people. Those people you can't relate to because they have another half even though (presumably) they were never half a person before, always a whole... I was never waiting for that; I felt complete on my own and would respect only the same. I feel like I must be a double person now.

I think that for too long i've been in the habit of thinking too much and not writing enough. Normally i'm good enough at figuring things out and fixing them (sometimes in the reverse order), but lately it's just going around and around in there and maybe i am just chasing my tail.

At the very least I hope to get the exercise that comes of verbalizing my thoughts. Discipline, expression, and better understanding through those. Here's hoping.

So, hello.