Tuesday February 15 2011

DREAM: With Margot, riding on a small go-cart or raft of some sort. Rolling through a train station—she’s ahead of me while I’m running just behind her. It’s understood in my mind that I’m running the newspaper route. A slew of train stops fly by us. “Margot! Wait, we passed a stop I need to make.” It doesn’t seem like she’s in control of the vehicle raft but she’s able to slow down a little. Unfortunately not enough because her raft slips down a long conveyor belt slope. The belt continues to move her forward and then stops just in time before she’s taken under one of the conjunctions. I notice she’s completely naked now. The belt reverses back towards me, but then it shoots her off to another conveyor belt with great speed. There’s nothing I can do. I can’t help her. She’s out of control. Eventually, the raft bounces when it arrives at the bottom throwing her up in the air pretty high. She lands abruptly on the ground. She’s hurt bad. I run up to her and carry her away. She stands up immediately in an irritated fashion, “I just want to go home now.” I felt responsible, but she didn’t necessarily hold me responsible. I escort her to the other end of the room. She’s lying down on her back. I analyze her injuries. She’s bloodied and bruised all over the place but is still conscious. Parts of skin are just plain missing on her kneecaps—it looks bad—so distinct and vivid.

Waking up at 6:30 p.m.

Text from her: “I feel so sad. I love you so much and hate that I hurt you. I’m just so sorry about everything. You didn’t deserve this to happen this way. If you ever need me I’m here for you. Always. Ps the mixes are pretty good. Thanks for them.”

Everything is still pressing hard on my miserable heart and mind. Time to usher in the season of melancholy and the infinite sadness.

Some thoughts from Joanne: When people decide to make fast and easy decisions like that, it's best to just let them go. Even if they change their minds back now... you always know they have the potential to do it again. There's a massive disconnect in how you both treat others. Sometimes it's fixable...sometimes it's not.

Some thoughts from Rachel: I think it's mind boggling that the script has flipped, but only to some degree. You are still you Robert and this spot that she's left open in herself for someone to possibly grab her attention is not a part of her that she intentionally didn't give to you, in fact i'm sure you occupied that very spot for a long time. The amount of need and want that margot craves is something SHE really needs to figure out. I think for a long time she chalked it all up to you not paying enough attention to her. She is right, you are an interesting creature Robert, an amazing one, but she cannot keep using yourself against you.

Sipping on hot Red Zinger Tea with Honey.


Every sappy lyric from love songs sound so appealing to me now…

“If you forget me

Come back here anytime

Seasons changing around us

You’ll be on my mind”


I call her up, on the verge of crying, I need to see you.

In my room—lying in each other’s arms—repeating some of the desperate phrases I said last night—shedding more tears. Her seeing me cry causes the same reaction in her.

Our interactions and affections seem the same but I can feel a difference. I can sense a wall between us, a wall she’s built that I don’t know how to break down.

Me: “I want to be with you.”

Her: “I think I’ll feel really awful, well I do feel really awful, but I’ll feel awfully worse when you don’t want to be with me anymore. You’ll start hanging out with some little indie girl.”

Me: “Wh—little indie girl?”

Her: “Whatever. It’s gonna be weird thinking…”

Me: “I can’t even imagine…like I seriously tried to think of people that could have any kind of potential…just thinking about it. Or even the people I used to know…just thinking about it, you know. It just makes me sick.”

I start recalling to her my past relationships. [There were only two serious ones that lasted two years each. I was in love then. But after that there’s this grey area of years where I just dated around. I made close connections but I never fell in love with these people.]

Me: “I never gave myself a chance to really fall in love with those people. Instead I got to the point where I could’ve made that choice. And then I got scared and moved on. And then you came along. It was the same thing, but you were so passionate and so persistent. I mean what could I do? All I could tell you is that, look, I’m scared about this. I don’t know if I can give you everything…Because of you we’re here. You’re the reason I’m here. You brought me here.”

Her: “I know. I think the reason why we lasted this long is because the other girls gave up and I didn’t.”

Me: “Yeah, you wouldn’t let me go.”

I know it’s a dramatic thing to say but I feel like I’m grieving over a death. That’s what it feels like. I’m king. And you’re supposed to be queen of our world.

The lighter moments come shortly after the heavy ones. But it’s still a back and forth scene. A dark raincloud of grief still hangs over my head.

Eventually, we head to the kitchen to make food. My diet has been whack the past few days. I just haven’t made food a priority. Liquids and small things here and there. Nor have I had any kind of sexual drive. It seems all the chemicals and hormones in my body are dedicating themselves to my broken heart.

Making her a grilled cheese. She likes it to be cut into triangles. I eat a half Egg Salad Sandwich with Tomato and Honey Green Tea.

Actually finishing that movie we started last week, The Good Night. Near the end there’s a dream scene where the main character, a musician going through a mid-life crisis and feeling dejected, is performing a moody song on a baby grand piano to his “dream girlfriend” who also represents his waking life girlfriend, Dora, in a weird way. He’s playing this song he wrote kind of about Dora and it’s just a beautiful moment. It hits me hard for some reason. I lean my head down on Margot’s arm and just start balling my eyes out uncontrollably—whimpering—emitting pathetic moans—she returns the tears—face to face—so tender—holding each other with such sweet sorrow. I love you……… I don’t want to lose you………I’m scared. The credits roll on the screen as we continue to breathe nervously and weep.

I haven’t cried like this in a long time. I also don’t think I’ve ever cried so much over love. I’ve used more tissues than when I’m sick. Man, we’re just two emotional nuts.

She’s getting really sleepy now. She naps next to me while I take this pre-screening test to qualify to become a search engine evaluator for Google.

I comment on how cozy and comfortable she always portrays to be.

Time to go to work. Newspaper route.

Feeling a little better after being with her all night.

Snacking on some Salt n Vinegar Chips and a Blueberry Muffin.

Coast to Coast radio. They’re discussing the New World Order and how soon the US dollar will crash.

Enjoying nostalgic and happy music on the stereo.

Back home, eating a real meal: Chicken Noodle Soup with Garlic Naan Bread.

Going to the bank to set up my loan payments. On the drive there and back—talking with my mom on the phone about my current state of affairs. Moms always have keen insight that only moms can have.

Sleep 10:30 a.m.

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