Madrigle

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deterioration
Tuesday, Mar. 21, 2006 @ 7:50 a.m.

In many ways I had a shitty Sunday. I through myself a pity party in between sporadic spurts of very productive painting. Mostly I sat on my couch trolling the internet for attention. Attention for which I don't follow through on, yes, I'm fairly certain I've become a virtual tease. So, this slump, this depression I slipped into Sunday, it started Saturday night. I had taken Roy out for chinese, we had homemade szechuan sausage and sesame shaobing to tuck each succulantly spicy bite into. We also had tofu balls with shrimp, which are close to divine, and eggplant in garlic sauce. YUM. Anyway, this isn't about the food, or the painting, but I'm sure both will get talked about in the course of this . . . rant? Anyway, yeah, we went back to his place and were watching God's and monsters while cuddling on the couch when I suddenly realized that NOBODY will be Habibi again in my life. Which was absolutely shitty to realize because I also know that Habibi was far from perfect, or even that my relationship with him was all that healthy, but damnit when it was good it was mind blowing. Admittedly, when it was bad it nearly burried me alive. I wish all those isolated pieces of incredible relationship pieces could have come together into something that wasn't fractured and broken. So, yeah, there I was cuddling with an interesting man, and I was lamenting that nobody would fill Habibi's place in my heart, ever. Praying that it's not so. Pissed off that Roy is not able to fill that place in my heart, so there I was out on the internet holding my breath till the next guy made his attempt to fill that void. It was a horrible, self-imposed tortuous day. The internet is funny. Hours went buy, with NOBODY talking to me. And then the universe provided. Suddenly 5 seperate guys were messaging me. Ehh, when it rains it pours. Nothing all day, then my screen was literally filled with people pm'ing me in the chat room. Weird, how that works. None of them mattered, except for one. It ended up being Roy, not Art Gallery Roy, no, Roy from years and years ago. The Roy that everytime I've gone through a breakup, EVERYTIME, I've thought to myself. I should go back to Roy. Roy, is the big regret, the guy I broke up with that I've always realized was a big mistake. But I was young, and yeah, I needed to go out into the world. This is the Roy who told me with the utmost conviction, that no matter where I was, or who he was with, when I was ready he would put everything else aside and come to me. Yeah, so, I've not contacted him since I moved back cause he was in a relationship, and I was to scared to think that maybe I DO hold that power over him to cause him to drop everything for me, and not wanting to wield that power. So, yeah, I guess his relationship of 4 years has ended as of November and he had heard I was back in New Mexico, and well here he was searching me out. I don't know what all this means, and this piece has eroded into just a recall and stream of consciousness about all that is goin on and all that I feel and wondering why I tend to get depressed this time of year, and realizing that it's been nearly a year exactly since I felt the need to seek the help of a therapist again, and what a great experience that was and having anxiety that I won't be able to find a therapist like Robin here in Albuquerque, and Robin would point out that pattern to me, that fear of not being able to find people to live up to the expectations of figures from my past and I'm sitting here on my couch, my ass firmly planted here, not caring that this is making me severely late to work. Only caring that I've got to spew these words out. I've got to purge this acheing heartbreak from my soul. Thankful I can feel, but wanting to not want the what could have beens and to face up to the realities of what a relationship with Habibi really was, that it was consuming jealousy that threatened to swallow me whole, never to spit me up or excreet me from it's dark and hideous bowels again. Trying to convince myself that was what it was, and only that, so I can stop comparing, and wishing and wanting for the moments of light, the moments where I was a singular ember for another soul in a universe that was otherwise very cold and dark. Not wanting to be sitting here my chest racked with sobs, tears rolling down my face, wiping the snot from my nose.

I've got to get up.

I've got to go to work with these now red swollen eyes.

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