Saturday August 6 2011

Getting out of bed at 11:16 a.m.

Breakfast: Mango. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

She questions what I wrote yesterday, “Seriously though what exactly do you mean with these ‘shadows’? I feel like I need to know about this especially if it involves us. It scares me when you say things like that in your blog :(”

I need the shadows…a private place for my thoughts—it’s my world in my head…not yours. Some things deserve to stay a mystery until it’s necessary to speak…

Ling reprimands me for the way I cut and peel a mango. He insists he show me the right way next time.

Upset with myself because I drove all the way to Rosemont to deliver an order only to find out it was the wrong address on the ticket. Waste of a trip. Waste of gas…

Surprise visit from Margot…she buys me a Tuna Salad Sandwich from Panera.

Me: “Make sure it’s on country bread!”

I insist on pitching some money but she denies it because, “You’re my boyfriend!”

Me: “But I thought you didn’t want to be a sugar daddy…”

…along with Salt n Vinegar Chips and Honey Green Tea.

She makes a comment about how I’m back to eating salt n vinegar chips.

Me: “What? You know I eat these all the time! You don’t read the blog? [haha]”

Her: “Your diet is the least of my concern.”

She looks real cute in that thin summer dress…she smothers me in kisses…

The deliveries continue…a lot of long distance orders…it’s frustrating me…

Blueberry Streusel Bread.

…only in neverland can you be certain…

Ice cream cone from Chic-fil-A.

A guy calls in an order to be delivered—says he’s still driving and doesn’t know the street address except that it’s on 86th street—says he will call back with house number. Food is ready. Still no call. I start driving towards the beach. I call him—no answer. Again—no answer. I better get in touch with him before I make it there. Here I am, all the way on 86th street—still no response. What to do? I’m not going to wait here, nor am I going to knock on the 30 or so houses to find out if they ordered Chinese. This guy is still not answering his phone. After a few minutes of coasting the block in hopes maybe he’d be outside looking for me, I accept defeat and leave. Another waste of a trip. Another waste of gas.

I shout out loud in the car, “UGGHHH! What an idiot! I should’ve listened to my fucking gut and stayed put until he called!”

Pea snapping because our dinner rush loses its momentum…

Finally off work…

We have three couch surfers here from Athens, Georgia: Margaret, Fitzy, and Chandler.

Aj stops by on a whim, then Tristan, then James…

Darren: “Yeah, until we bastardized the English language…”

Dinner: Leftover Spinach Chicken Enchiladas. Rice. Lingwalker Lager.

Putting on Twilight Zone for entertainment…

Aj: “They’re so good at dramatic exits.”

Male character on one of the episodes: “Why do you have to disagree with everything I say!”

Margot calls me—I’m reluctant to see her giving her the reason that I’m preoccupied and want to go to bed soon, which is true. Really though, I just need some space. She’s already close by so it’s pointless for her to go home. Upstairs, she’s feeling rejected…

Me: “I just wasn’t feeling vibrant tonight and I know it upsets you when I don’t feel vibrant.”

Something just isn’t feeling right in my gut…Our words dig deeper into the mysteries of my thoughts, which aren’t legitimate mysteries because we’ve discussed this before, the idea of separating…Somehow I delve into everything I’ve been thinking. I stand there gripping the microphone stand that ended up in my room somehow—on my soapbox talking about: I need to be alone. This is the right thing for us. You deserve to be happy. My hands are getting clammy.

Her reaction is anger and attitude. Mine is sadness and remorse. She rips her I♥ROBERT keychain and tosses it down at my feet. And then removes the I♥MARGOT keychain from my keys, “You won’t be needing this anymore either,” and takes it—stomping out of the room, “We’re fucking done. It’s fucking over.” She’s gone. I hear the door slam downstairs. I crouch down on the floor and sit up crossed legged—the tissues pile up next me as I whimper and moan and shed tears. I call her on the phone, but she’s already home. Trying to be sensitive and express my emotions—she’s angry—and then she’s crying. My voice is nervous, “I want to talk to you again…” But her reaction is absolute cold-turkey defiance.

I didn’t want this…to happen. God! How I love you so much. This is the hardest part…

I know I’m going to have moments all the time where I question myself, What have I done? Why would I give up someone so beautiful and sexy and wonderful? I fought the fight over her for a long time. I gave it my all. I gave it my best. And don’t you dare tell me I didn’t try!!! There just comes a time when you have to make a move and do what’s best for yourself. This isn’t going to be simple or easy. I told her this. I’m fucking scared. I’m afraid of losing her—I am losing her. It’s going to be a process. I’m just so fucking sad right now. I feel horrible….horrible…horrible…

This won’t be an easy chapter to end………………….


Struggling through my bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Sleep sometime around 5 a.m.

No comments: