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2001-03-04 :: 1:25:55
I don't know why i bother with Rock Star Ex. And yet, I can't stop myself. I called him just now to verify our plans tonight for dinner and The Sopranos and HH was over there and I admitted to him what happened with Drummer Boy the other night (because I didn't want him to find out from anyone else, should that have ever ocurred) and he said "That's pretty funny," like it doesn't affect him at al, and I suppose it doesn't anymore, nothing I do affects him anymore. And then he told me things were "great" with HH and I don't know how to control the seething when I hear shit like that... I don't know how to not hate her and not have these awful images of her in his bed and touching him and it makes me so miserable and sick to my stomach and I don't "Drummer Boy can't upset me," he said. He said that. And I wanted to smack him in the head and scream simultaneously. Why he thinks HH is a good thing for him, I will never know. Why that absurd old hag is still around is a mystery to me. I used to eat breakfast with him on Sunday at Tania's. She doesn't belong here. She doesn't fit in. Please God make her go away. This grieving, this lunacy...it doesn't end. And I know I'm being immature and childish and selfish, I know all that...i just can't stop myself. I want him back here with me so badly, it's palpable at this point. I can't even be happy that I hooked up with someone I had a crush on. It doesn't even make me happy. And he is in bliss, he is in a state of euphoria with her. Her. And I have to come to terms with this because in six hours he will be here and I have to keep it together and not pick a fight over her lameness and not say anything and push it down further and further into the recesses of the hollowness of this fucking sadness... this awful, awful sadness.. And I am not generally a sad girl. I am the life of the party, as Laurie puts it, I am entertaining and funny and cute and all those good things... and yet I have this secret that nobody knows... that on the inside I am totally empty. Hollwed out, carved clean. Destroyed. And I am just going through the motions, folks, just mimicking what I think normal human beings do and how they behave, and hoping that no one will find me out and say "Wait a minute, you're not real." I don't know who I've become. I don't know this girl. i think the real me is somewhere on the inside -- that sounbds so retarded -- and she is maybe knocking and trying to get out but it's too heavy. This is all so fucking heavy. I don't know anything except this sadness, and him. And how I miss him. And that he doesn't seem to care. this can't be the end. Because if it is, it's the saddest movie ending of all time.
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