Sunday February 27 2011

DREAM: The train is moving in the daylight. On a flatbed car with three other people—we’re all trying to take naps. One of them is an unfamiliar girl, tall and built, yet very pretty, light tan skin, long brown hair that looks like she just blow dried and combed it. We’re lying there interlocking our legs—being affectionate. The train is making sharp turns and cuts around a corner causing me to be in danger of falling off. The girl jokingly pushes me but grabs me just in time. I’m leaning over the side while she holds onto my body. Later, as we’re still lying down together, I’m counting quarters from a small pile. Next to it is cocaine, but it’s grey and has a very coarse texture, looking more like sand. I separate a line for her to try but she’s tired.

Waking up exactly 8 minutes before I have to be at work at 5 p.m.

Breakfast: English Muffin with Peanut Butter. Immune Defense.

Work at China Wok.

Lunch: Tuna Salad Sandwich. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

Banana and Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Cups.

Carmen’s here fixing up the attic space for living.

Margot and I in my room talking—a fun and light mood. I tell her about the recent romantic visions I have…

“There’s this stop I make on Shore Drive, The Lynnhaven Fish House, right on the beach. I can smell the sand and everything. I just imagine you having a big house on the beach. We’d live there or I’d be seeing you there. You’ve got a king size bed with thick white linen sheets. We’re naked under the covers—in the moonlight.”

Getting on the topic of our individual marriage plans like the ideal age to elope or have kids. Not much else to mention except it was more enjoyable until we went to the storage unit.

There, I perform the two songs I wrote about everything—it was kind of awkward. I couldn’t sing out like I wanted to because of how personal it was—my lips shaking and voice breaking. It wasn’t my best but she’s responsive and thinks the piano one sounds haunting. “Yeah, that’s cause you’re haunting me.”

I get a little emotional and, again, lay out my heart on the table. It’s less dramatic than the other times but still meaningful to me. “Every time I say ‘I love you’ my eyes start to water.” And they do. I’m begging in so many words. I was silly to think that music could change things. It’s only a song.

Her lines: “I have strong feelings for you…I love you…I care about you…you’re so special to me….but I can’t be with you like you want…I have to try new things.”

I hate the idea of her giving up this incredible love we’ve been developing for so long. I wish she could understand it the way I do. At some point I get frustrated and, in haste, get my stuff together to leave the unit. “This was pointless,” I blab out to her. We leave to the house. Standing there in the driveway before she takes off to go home. She hugs me and places my resistant left arm around her back. “I’m sorry,” she says with sincerity. How can I not accept her affection?

Newspaper route.

Thinking of something to text her. I want to say How many times do I have beg before you say yes? But I settle for a simple “I love you.” Later she responds back with “I know baby. Me too.” If you ever want me back, just say the word and I’ll come running.

Cinnamon Sugar Donut from 7-11.

I went through the grieving stage where I dealt with pain, sadness, and denial. Now I’m fed up and inclined to be angry and push it all away—it’s cathartic anger. Fuck your love. I don’t need your love.

Thinking about God and the strong presence I feel whenever I think of surrendering. Every time I begin to think about it I suddenly feel joy and inspiration and a motivation to accomplish great things. I want to dive into this.

God help me. There’s an opportunity to disconnect from her, from the attachment, and open myself up to other aspects of my life.

Dinner: Sun Dried Tomato Chicken in Polenta Provencale and Mixed Vegetables. Garlic Naan Bread.

Watching What Doesn’t Kill You [2008].


It’s really nice out. I take a jog with my ipod to the storage unit to update my gate code access with the manager.

“This is the last song that I’ll write while still in love with you.”!/item/13crc/Noah+And+The+Whale+-+Blue+Skies

No really, listen to that song.

Goodnight. 10:30 a.m.

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