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I’m still a bit off…

Went to work today, man that was hard! No one to serve me drinks, no young Italian studs in tight shorts…

I kept a journal while over there.

I will fill you in tomorrow, pics and all 🙂

I loved it there. I love it here. I missed you, here, all.

Je me suis ennuyée de vous, je me suis ennuyée de tout ça, ici.
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I think it went well. He found others. Men. A place to share without shame, judgement. The prayers disturbed him a little, but he understands their meaning. I think he went thinking there would only be junkies and losers. That he did not belong in that kind of crowd. He came back realizing that they all were equal in their addiction. He’s tired. He’s fed up. He’s not having fun anymore. He sees things slipping away.

He says he’s going to a meeting tomorrow. And maybe Friday too.

I’m here. I always have been. The change is that I stopped seeing his problem as being mine. I left him the sole responsibility of his actions. I won’t bear the weight anymore. I want him to stop for him. But I’m here. Every time he said he’d stop, I was here. I believe in him.
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Tonight is a big night. L. is attending a 12 step progam meeting… It’s the first time he actually tries something, in all these years.

The trigger? Valentine’s day most likely. This was not an evening to remember. I walked in the bedroom, he was there, a glass of scotch on the bedside table, coked out of his mind. I was so, so dissapointed. But proud at the same time, because I was able to tell him. Instead of saying nothing, turning my head, gritting my teeth, waiting for it to be over. I spoke up. No fight. I just said “I am so dissapointed. I thought we could make this evening special, make love instead of fucking, like usual. I think you missed a great opportunity.” That’s all I said.

So he’s at the meeting right now. It was starting at 7.30pm. He hasn’t called yet. So I’m hoping it means that he stuck around. I’m hoping we can talk about it when he gets home. I’m hoping he will like it enough to go back.
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Well, filelodge.com has been down for 2 days. I’ve been looking for an alternative, a service that allows me to embed my mp3 into this blog. And so far, nothing. So I’m testing a few. Now, this, castpost, embeds a player. But I want the file to start playing by itself, I don’t want a player… But that’s me. And that player here is quite ugly, clunky and big. Well, back to my hunt!

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I love you dearly, but I must not write to please you right? I must write for me. And as hard as I’ve tried to pull myself out of this fucking hole, I’m still very much in it. And I’ll mope and whine and slather my despair all over my blog. Because that’s how I feel. And writing here is what I need to keep madness from reaching its ultimate goal, which is my mind.

In December L. and I decided to give our relationship a chance. And I’m having a hard time right now. Very hard. I’m still convinced it was the right decision. I just don’t know if I’ll be able to go through with this. I can’t even word it. I just need to say it.

I don’t think it’s going to work out.

What a fucking mess.

I’m looking forward to our trip in Colombia. I think it will be a nice change of pace. Get out of the house, the routine. I want this trip to make or brake things. Something has to happen. I can make it happen. Regardless. I can change my mind, I can admit I was wrong, or that I was right.

As for now, my mind has left the building. I’m running low on gas. I’m not going to give up, but I need to recharge my batteries. What better place than a beach in South America?
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Le monde s’écroule autour d’elle
Un bébé dans son ventre
Un sans-coeur sur le sofa
Une amie sur le hold

C’est un adieu qu’elle ne veut pas faire
Qu’elle va faire pour lui
Qu’elle va faire pour le garder
Qu’elle regrette déjà avant de l’avoir fait

Une lettre à laquelle elle n’a pas répondu
Un sourire mort sur ses lèvres
Une larme coupant son visage
Une porte qu’elle m’a claqué dans la face

Dans sa petite cage
Elle croupi
Dans sa petite cage
Elle se meurt
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For the fourth fucking time. She never kept one. And she won’t keep it this time either.

She’s my best friend. But two years ago I told her abortion is not fucking contraception. Get your shit together. She won’t take the pill, she says it’s too chemical, it’s bad for her body. No shit! What about condoms, abstinence, the calendar? What ever it takes. I don’t understand her. I don’t want to judge her, but when I got her email this morning I was very angry at her. Still am.

Anything else, I wouldn’t even think twice about being there for her. But I have to admit, I’m so so disapointed. Her boyfriend is a leech, hasn’t found a job in months, just sits at home watching sports and smoking pot, pretending to go to interviews. She wrote me “We thought about it together and decided it was best this way”.

Frankly, I’m speechless. I love her, I want her to be happy. I let her live whatever she has to go through and try to be there whenever she needs me. I will be there again. But I don’t know if things will ever be the same. Abortion. For the FOURTH time. This is just wrong.

When my son was 6 weeks old I had one. I am pro-choice, of course, all the way. This is completely different though. What can I tell her, what can I say that won’t hurt her, how can I hold back on something like this? I don’t know if I’ll be able to. We’ll see.
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