Sunday, September 6, 2009

Had a great night with Michael on Friday. Worked on my DCAU Timeline Saturday morning, and then slept. Michael left around 2pm to work on his geneology thing. I got up around 7pm, and burned a Doctor Who / Torchwood disc for Pat & Cara, who I met at DJ's later; Mike & Emily were also there (I returned their LOST DVD's), plus another guy that used to work at Hollywood (I think his name was John) and DJ's wife and kids. I chilled with them for 3 or 4 hours (talking about food, BSG / Caprica, the Whoniverse, Dollhouse and lots of other fun topics) then met Michael back at home. He was working on his laptop, doing his thing; we chilled for awhile. We slept for a bit but I got up to eat (early this morning). My stomach was feeling weird so I stayed up and worked on the DCAU Timeline again, getting most of 2040 done. With Batman Beyond, you mostly want to stick to production order, which is a lot easier than sorting out some of the other DCAU shows...however you do have to do some scrambling to make some of the elements fit together, but I think I've worked that all out and next time around I'll know what episodes to watch, in what order. Just as anyone else who finds my site will know.

I cuddled with Michael for a bit, then he left and I worked on the timeline a bit longer before going to bed again. Mark woke me up to go to his work party, but I had a terrible headache and wanted to stay in bed; that didn't help though; I woke up later with a worse one. I've been trying to not take my pain killer as often, but this time it was needed badly.

The DCAU Timeline thing is working out really well. Sometimes there are setbacks, but other times there are these moments that feel like they are signs that I'm getting it all in the correct order and it's all fitting together. Like how all the flashbacks concerning the deaths of Bruce's parents, him becoming Batman, and taking in Robin all fit together the way I think the episodes go. Well, part of me working on the Timeline in the last 48 hours or so has been me realizing that the information in the series implies season 1 of Batman Beyond is set in 2040, which is something that I don't think I've seen anywhere else online, and I had this little voice in the back of my head telling me that I was messing it all up...until I got to the final Mr. Freeze episode ("Meltdown") and his charachter says he's been that way for 'nearly 50 years' and he hasn't aged a day. I thought maybe this information would clash with something I'd done and I'd have to figure it out...only when I went back and looked what year I'd set his flashback which featured the accident that turned Victor Fries into Mr. Freeze, it was set in 1991, 49 years earlier! How perfect is that? ;-0)

Anyways, my head is still hurting so I don't feel like writing more. Except to say that I had a mostly great weekend. The season finale of True Blood is on tonight; maybe I'll get to watch the final 2 episodes of season 2 tomorrow?

   posted by Bald Jason at 07:29 PM
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   Monday, September 7, 2009

I'll post about this day later; it's just too painful right now.

   posted by Bald Jason at 11:59 PM
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   Wednesday, September 9, 2009

The pain from the last 45 hours ebbs and flows. Some moments I want to slice out my insides; I imagine the details of it; I've experienced it before and remember it just as clearly as any episode of any show that I've ever loved. Other moments I crave clove cigarettes. One moment I was tempted to get drunk...just sit in my room and drink the liquor we keep downstairs but never touch. That would certainly be a new food experience for me. I want to go for a walk...or possibly a run. I want to lay down and sleep, as I've not done so for more than an hour a two in nearly 2 days time. I have no appetite, and for the first time in my life, that bothers me.

I was able to keep a Boost down with no problem, which was a good sign. It was also a godsend as the Boost washed down the Midrin, which I took the right dose of to kill the headache that was brewing...not enough to even risk dying in my own puke. The midrin killed the pain in my head and allowed me this mellowness.

I took a hot shower. I scrubbed with the bodywash that Michael bought me. I shaved recklessly, as if daring myself to bleed; nobody could blame me for a scratch or two on my scalp...and I rather like the burn of alcohol on fresh wounds. I used to be a cutter. I think it stopped in 1996. I used to carry a razor with me, that Mark took from me. It was the razor I used the first time I tried to kill myself. It's a happy memory now, but I don't miss it at all. It was a shitty bitty bic razor blade. lol

When the hot water was gone I dryed off and went over everything with a razor again; dry; no water or shaving cream. No cuts though, which I find oddly amusing. As I shaved I imagined killing myself after creating a living will and sending "The Thief of Always" to Mollie, with a note apologising for not being a stronger or better friend. I almost shed a tear that time.

As I flossed my teeth (a habit I've not been in for a long while) I started feeling like LIVING well might be the way to go. Keep eating the right foods; floss; brush; run...but never date. Just the act of flossing and brushing inspires lurid, lush fantasy time today.

My voice is ruined. When I speak I sound like a broken doll. I like it I think. It's a wretched sound that reflects what's going on inside my healthy looking body. You can see it in my red rimmed eyes though. This boy is on the verge... I almost erased the word boy and wrote man, thinking I'm much too old to be referred to as a boy...but the word man doesn't quite seem to capture me.

I know it's horribly pathetic, but I don't want to lose Michael. I don't. He could still tell the truth. He could still save something of what we were, while transforming us into something else. But I feel all of that slipping away. I told him about my crazy thoughts earlier and he's worried now; he wants to see me. It's like I've gone completely insane, and he's the lovely actor who will save me at the end of the movie. But the movies end...and then we walk away from them, even if we never forget.

I want to see Michael finish Battlestar Galactica, and watch Doctor Who, and Dollhouse, and Superman: The Animated Series.

I don't want to do without his cuddles, even if I love the feel of my big empty bed.

I don't feel like I'll ever trust another man ever again. I know that's what one expects to hear in such situations, but I really don't. I've been here so many times, and I just think I'm starting to learn my lesson. But then seconds roll by and I imagine myself healthy and happy, and possibly dating some random guy I've never even met yet. See...I've been here before and I know these feelings might fade away until I've forgotton how much love hurts. Like those women that give birth and then forget the horrors of labor.

Moments pass and I feel liberated. I can do whatever I want. I'm not talking about fucking strangers. I can read my 'Giovanni's Room' in the diag. I can run and laugh and play and sing and dance and be exactly what I want to be and I don't have to feel this aching death vibration ringing out from within my pores. I can smile.

But it's just not that easy.

   posted by Bald Jason at 12:23 PM
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A slight brightening of the clouds, which makes me smile, but my eyes are so red rimmed that they're cracking into dust. Perhaps sleep will find me if I just shut my eyes.

   posted by Bald Jason at 03:06 PM
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   Thursday, September 10, 2009

I'm still broken. Still crazy. Still stunned and shaking. Still awake. I want the blood to flow, yet I don't want to clean up the mess of saddened friends...and I hate being dehydrated. I want to smash the mirrors. I feel beautiful and ugly, just as he is both beautiful and ugly; he's made me ugly. I want to know every detail. Part of me craves every word, action deed that went on behind my back; reclaiming them as my own...but my body is repulsed. I've jacked off dozens of times imagining watching him fuck other people, but the fantasy was tainted when he did so without my involvement or knowledge. I know I'm sick for thinking suck things. I want to ask him to leave. I want to beg him to stay. I wish I could sort out the Michael I knew from the Collin that fucked them. Part of me desires him, while part of me recoils from his touch; the touch that touched so many others before I knew the truth. I've always loved his cock and it never bothered me that he'd had so many lovers before me, because he was mine now and we were careful, and safe, and it had to be better than the others because we loved each other and I held his hand in public. Only now I think he was never really just mine. For less than 2 months he was mine.

People keep asking me what I need. I think I need time. Time to make the nightmare visions stop flooding my brain. Time to shake the disease from my mind; from my trembling hands. Everything is numb, yet amplified to an agonizing extreme. It's as if my Michael was only a dream.

Why can't I shake this off? Why can't I run? Why can't I eat? Why can't I sleep? Why can't I just stop and let this shit go? Nothing seems to matter.

I glance at the clock at random and it's 3:39 AM. At 3:39am, just 3 days ago, Michael said hello to Dave: "hey what up". I can't even look at the clock without being stabbed in the gut.

Part of me feels proud that I haven't picked up the knife I dream about. Part of me feels cowardly; disgusted with myself for thinking it, and even more so for not just doing it. My thoughts jumble through my head and collide; often times, completely contradicting the thought before.

Mollie says I'm grieving. That sounds about right. I'm grieving for the man I loved who didn't exist. Or he existed for nearly 2 months and then died without me noticing... How could I not have noticed? How could I not have known? I feel so stupid and dirty...and now a tear falls. I've shed only 5 tears so far. They threaten to boil up out of me, and I may feel better once they do, but I'm afraid of what I'll do if I give in a lose control.

I think I need help, yet I want to be alone. Everything seems so pointless now. I know I've felt this way before, but I don't remember how I found my way out and I'm lost inside my own head. Every now and again a voice breaks through, be it Mark, Mollie or Michael; the MMM. When their voices reach me I have moments of relief. But then the moments pass and the madness devours me again. I wonder if this is how my father lost his mind...

4:02am. 3 days and 20 minutes after he told Dave he'd meet him in 20 minutes. 3 days ago at this time he was driving or arriving...diving down on the floor. And the sad thing is, it wasn't the first time, or the 2nd, or the 3rd. He's sleeping behind me right now. He wanted to be sure I wouldn't hurt myself, but I don't have to use a knife to do that. I'm suffering right now.

Just give me time. Just give me time.

   posted by Bald Jason at 04:02 AM
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I'm experiencing moments of sanity. I feel almost normal. It can't be this easy, can it? But of course it's not. Yet I feel less dazed.

   posted by Bald Jason at 05:20 AM
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I cuddled with Michael until he left. It was like a ghost of a memory. Like the Michael I'd known had been dying since the revelations of his indiscretions and I was watching him take his final breaths. It was calm, yet sad, and painful. I kissed his chest and his face. I touched and smelled his skin.

I need time. I need time to get over the Michael I lost. Time to accept the Michael I just found out about if I can. Time to make peace with this torture. Time to find my joy again. Time will tell if I can ever find anything with this new Michael. I can't say what it is that I want right now, because I simply don't know. Time will tell.

When Michael got up, we stood and hugged goodbye. We kissed and he pushed for the kiss to be more and I turned away. I need time I said. Time to make myself sane. Time to think.

I marched the ghost of Michael downstairs and as he stood in the morning air of the doorway I hugged him again and kissed him goodbye. He told me, sadly, to take care of myself. "You too." And then I watched him walk away across the lawn, superimposed over an image of the first time I saw him in person, walking over that lawn to my door, and into my world.

I need time. I know that's what I need. I don't know what's to come. I don't know anything really.

   posted by Bald Jason at 06:02 AM
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The suffering, mourning continues. I miss him so fucking much. I'm going to try to sleep.

   posted by Bald Jason at 07:03 AM
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Trying to sleep turned into updating Facebook, friending someone I meant to friend a month ago, then randomly walking out my front door and sitting on the concrete steps, listening to the insects & birds, while watching a chipmunk. It didn't make me feel any better though. Still feel lonely on my own, which I've not felt since last October I think. I still have no appetite and no real urge to sleep; I just know that I need those things.

Michael bought me a Snickers bar and left here when he left. I tried it (though it's packed full of crap my body doesn't need) and it wasn't that bad. I was good and didn't more of it. I just think I should be putting better things into my body.

I miss him. I'm crumbling.

   posted by Bald Jason at 07:25 AM
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I'm hypnotized by everything. Maybe I really will try to sleep now.

   posted by Bald Jason at 07:32 AM
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I managed to sleep about an hour. A text from Michael woke me up. He's staying home from work today. When I get a text my phone makes a noise, and if I don't look at the text within a minute or so, my phone beeps. The beep woke me up, and I was trying to figure out why my phone was making that noise... I tried but failed to get back to sleep. I almost drifted off a couple times, but then it was like I suddenly realized I was going to be a sleep and it snapped me out of it. I feel physically, emotionally, mentally exhausted, yet I can't sleep? What's up with that?

   posted by Bald Jason at 09:43 AM
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I forced myself to eat some tofu, though I find all food repugnant at the moment. This, when just days ago I was wolfing the stuff down with cheese and bread. I'm fine drinking liquids... It scares me because I was doing so well with food, and now I'm back to not wanting anything again...and I'm worried I might be stuck here now. My brain connects my eating better with dating Michael. Though I don't believe Michael was the catalyst for that transformation, the two events are impossible to separate in my mind's eye.

I'll try to keep the food down. But other than that I'll concentrate on rehydrating myself today. Water, Boost and Juice. I know it's not much but I'm making a real effort to getting back to normal, which seems IMPOSSIBLE right now. I'm just trying to fight off that doom and gloom sensation. Give me some credit.

Especially as I'm being haunted.

There's the remains of a bottle of Beringer White Zinfandel on my desk. I've been meaning to toss it, but now it hits me that Michael bought it for me. And I noticed his bottle of coke, and 2 bottles of raspberry alcohol in the fridge. The snickers with the bite taken out of it sits on my desk as well. Along with the DVD featuring Michael & I riding the Raptor at Cedar Point on August 6, 2009. That seems like so long ago; so far removed from the recent discovery of his betrayal, yet he was cheating on me even then, and had been for over a month. The Dune book I'm reading was meant to be the first in a series to get me to the Dune book that Michael had bought me. I was hoping to get the section of my DCAU Project featuring Superman / Batman done before Michael got back to those shows so he could see them in the proper order. "Watchmen", "Labyrinth", "The Thing" DVD's stare back at me. "Watchmen" is especially biting; I know he saw that movie in the theater with Sean; one of the boys he barebacked in June, and the boy who eventually drew my attention to Michael's dishonesty. Books on the book shelf; Buffy graphic novels on the floor. Earlier I remembered seeing "Wolverine" "T4" & "Harry Potter 6" with Michael in the theater. The Wii System; something I'd never played or had any interest in before I met Michael, mocks me. Super Mario Party 8. I played that with Michael & Mollie, which snacking on M&Ms. I learned how to Wii Bowl from Michael. I've played all those games with him I think, and the 1 or 2 I haven't seems out of place. "Rights of Passage" on my movie shelf reminds me that Michael watched that once in my room, on his computer, with his headphones on. The computer he used to hook up with other men. I noted how little money I have in my bank account, and remembered this was because of the gifts that I'd bought Michael: Roswell Season 3, and a book of Charmed Spells. My sheets and pillow cases still smell like Michael. I'm ashamed to admit they've not been washed since we had sex there on Friday. The sheets are nearly pulled off the bed, just as they are everytime Michael sleeps there. There are candles on my desk given to me at a candle party Michael took me to at his friends' home; their garage was used for my birthday party, thrown on August 15 - and a picture I took of Michael that day (which I was ever so proud of) was used by him to procure sex online.

It all washes over me again, and again. And I can't make it stop. I'm trying to make it stop. But the food has no allure; the food has no flavor. The weather isn't very appealing. And everything reminds me of what I lost months ago without even knowing it.

And despite all of that, I hope that Michael finds his lost cat, who disappeared yesterday. Despite all of that I miss him more than I feel I can bare.

   posted by Bald Jason at 10:37 AM
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Everything's jumbled.

I hate this.

I hate myself.

This can't be happening.

And why can't I fucking drag myself away from the computer?

   posted by Bald Jason at 11:06 AM
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After the last entry, I spoke to Mollie on the phone. She's started watching LOST and is about half way through Season 1. There was a package delivery somewhere in there, and a freaking encounter with a large furry brown recluse spider, before Mollie made me laugh harder than I have in days. Jennifer called me at 12:04pm, and I let Mollie go so I could talk to her. Mark had told her yesterday (with my permission) a very bare boned explanation of why I sounded depressed. She asked for details and I gave them. She knew I was thinking about suicide and begged me to stay alive...and I openly wept for the first time since Monday; great wracking sobs. Jennifer talked to Mark and he took another day off of work to be here. Jennifer will be visiting late tonight.

After the phone conversation, Michael left a comment on my last entry, at 2:09pm. I called Michael back at 2:19pm. We talked. I told him that I did hate him for the cruel and and hurtful things that he'd done to me; that he may have gotten lost in something, but he went there willingly, multiple times. I hate him for fucking up my life, eating, trust...and making me want to die again. I wouldn't let him end the conversation on his terms; I took some of my power back. I made sure he knew we haven't been boyfriends since he left this morning. I again told him I needed time, but that I wasn't sure I'd ever get to a place where I could want him back...which hurts me, even though it's the truth, because I'd like to think that the boy I thought was real actually existed and that I could win him back from the dark side or whatever...but I just don't know if I'll want that once I'm in sane territory again. I ended the conversation letting him know that I would talk to him again.

At 3:08, right as I was getting into bed to try to sleep, after feeling better than I had in many hours, Michael texted me. The text made me smile. I slept from about 3:20-6:30. That's the most I've slept at one time in days.

I woke up with my stomach in knots. I've had diarrhea since Monday. I took some pepto yesterday, and that perhaps accounted for the pain I was in at that time. Once it had passed, I went back to my bed and noticed my phone was blinking. Michael had texted me at 3:52pm. Then at 4:48 had left a comment on my 9:43 am entry. Then when I sat at my computer I found that he'd also said hello to me on my AIM (which I'd left on) at 5:22 pm. I didn't know how to respond to these messages.

Just then, my phone (which was on silent running) starting blinking with an unknown number from Virginia. I answered and it was my dear friend Amber. She wasn't calling because she knew something was wrong, though she quickly grew concerned when hearing my ragged voice. She asked. I told. I shook. I very nearly cried again. She was shocked, as she had heard me speak of Michael before and seen pictures of us, and thought (just like me and some of my other friends) that he was different, and things with him were better than anything I'd had in over a decade. She was worried for me. But she had a surprise. She's gonna be in Michigan in 3 weeks time (or there abouts). When she said 3 weeks, I immediately heard Michael's voice in my head saying that 3 weeks ago he had sex with Brad in a hotel room near the airport. I tried to cover my surge of pain and we ended our conversation.

There was a blog entry I wrote at 10:37 am that I had originally kept private; invisible to everyone but me. I can do that. I don't like to do it though. And when I realized the reason I was doing was to protect Michael, I realized I had to let that go and openly post it, so I did that.

I took some prilosec with cranberry juice. The juice tasted good and felt cool going down. I hope it helps me in some way. Mark had woken from a nap when I ran downstairs and followed to make sure everything was ok. I covered all this information with him. He put his hand on my head and told me things will get better. He's been such a comfort the last few days. My friends are pulling through for me. I know I need them and without them I'd be dead. Sometimes I hate them for keeping me alive...but not always.

This is just a very dark time for me. It's comparable to other experiences I have had, but never on this level of insult. I feel like Michael took my trust and raped it. Like Micahel raped me every time he had sex with me without telling me that he was fucking other guys. He took something I cherrished and made me an unknowning victim. I appreciate his words on many levels, but I fear that he really will change, and having been hurt so terribly by his actions and lies that I won't benefit at all from these changes. I fear he'll find the happiness I thought we had, with someone else...and that when I'm ready, IF I'm ever ready to trust him again, he'll be with someone else. I've experienced that a couple times with past breakups. I'm just the guy that everyone learns from so they can fall in love for real. Ask Travis. Ask Shawn.

   posted by Bald Jason at 08:27 PM
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I went to Facebook and updated some stuff; replied to other things. Noticed that Michael, posting about how bad he feels, is still using that picture. I left some comments to let him know I was ok, and for him to please change that picture as it hurts me to see it now.

The thought occurs to me: why is Michael changing his e-mail account now that I know that his account wasn't hacked?

My phone is charging as it was very nearly dead. I might lay down again for a bit. The ringer is off on my phone, so any friends calling shouldn't worry that I've offed myself. Plus Mark is around and I doubt he'd let that happen. I'm not trying to ignore anyone; I just want to get more sleep if I can.

   posted by Bald Jason at 09:00 PM
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I feel some satisfaction at winning a game of spider solitaire. Try to sleep now, though my tummy's a bit upset.

   posted by Bald Jason at 09:25 PM
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   Friday, September 11, 2009

I slept from about 9:40pm - 1:30am. That's an improvement. I woke up happy, with giddy memories of exciting and funny dreams. And then I remembered Michael. I struggled to not think about him, but it all came bubbling up. While this sucks, I see this as a good sign. I actually considered not thinking about Michael and was able to keep juice down and sleep, plus I was relaxed when I went to bed. Somewhere in my mind I know these peace filled intervals will grow in number and length. I just have to hold on until they do.

When I got out of bed, I found that I had some texts. Jennifer didn't come over as I was asleep, but she's coming over tomorrow evening. Michael texted me at 11:45pm to let me know that his cat Misty has returned home. I'm glad.

I made a decision. I went to Mark and asked for a box. I'm going to box up as much stuff that reminds me of Michael and set it aside. I'm not going to burn it or toss it out, but I need to keep some of the painful stuff away from me until my mind can handle seeing such things.

I had some more cranberry juice, but was worried it would come back up and didn't enjoy it as much as earlier.

I took a shower, and just before I was to use it, I chose not to use the body wash that Michael had bought me. I sat it aside and decided I'll dump it and box the sweet smelling container, along with Michael's toothbrush and toothpaste. It's probably some weakness of mine that I don't just toss these things, but I have stuff like this from past relationships and I know that eventually they serve as a kind of headstone to the relationship that was.

Looking at the date & time I'm assailed by memories, both mine, and his. 3 weeks ago at around this time Michael was chatting with someone about sex. At 2:52 he left to meet this guy on N. Huron in Ypsi; not that far from where I live; after fucking that guy, later in the morning he sought out another fling, though he apparently didn't didn't accomplish his target goal - though a few hours after that he arrived at my house to take me to his grandmother's funeral. Last week around this time Michael and I were having sex for what was to be the last time in that relationship, though I didn't know it at the time. I took some grat pictures of my unfaithful boyfriend fucking me bareback; I thought them so beautiful and hot at the time. Now they just scare the hell out of me.

Michael just texted me. He wants to talk. I think I might be crying again soon.

   posted by Bald Jason at 02:28 AM
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So the text from Michael (see end of last entry) was asking me to call him, and I didn't think I could handle hearing his voice so I chose to chat on AIM instead. I was very clear about what I needed and wanted. I thought the conversation was going well, until Michael started making references to cutting himself. Now, you might wonder why I would care about that in my current state, but as most of my close friends will tell you, I've had an abnormal amount of contact with suicides and so when people say things that maybe they don't mean, I jump into action without thinking about it. I tried calling his roomie Melissa's phone but it went right to voicemail. I got Mark up and we drove out to Michael's house.

Mark understood my feelings and supported us going. He knows me so well. And he's really been there for me this week. He could have been a prick about Michael and I breaking up...but he's been very understanding, and supportive of Michel, even as he's voiced his anger at Michael's behavior and how his trust has been broken. Mark and I, for now, are on the same page, and that's been...well, it's made all the difference.

When we got there Mark stayed in the car. We didn't discuss it; I just stormed in and Mark stayed behind. Michael was on the couch with a knife in his hand. He told me to get out. I took the knife and demanded he show me his arms. He hadn't broken the skin, but he'd pressed into it. I remember that sensation. He thought the knife was too dull, but it looked and felt pretty wicked to me; he could have done major damage with it. Thankfully he didn't.

That must sound pretty hypocritical coming from someone who's just spent a lot of time talking about wanting to cut himself, but the thing is...I didn't do it. I'm a cutter from way back, with the scars to prove it, but I've managed to not go there in nearly 13 years (October 4 will mark the occasion). Talking about it helps me not do it. If I keep it bottled up and go all secretive it tends to explode in a bloody swath. But even when I talk about it, it's still very hard to resist the urge. I wouldn't wish that desire on anyone. I'm sure anyone who's been a cutter and is reading this will understand.

Michael still wanted me to leave, but I wouldn't go. I played with his cats. For some reason they just didn't bother me this time. We talked. And talked. I didn't back down on any of my anger or fear or pain, but I didn't hold back on my other feelings for and about him either. It was very nearly cathartic, and I think being there with him, in that state of mind, did me a world of good. When I was pretty sure the blood moment had passed, and we were pretty chill, I took my leave.

I wanted to kiss him goodbye, but I chose not too. I didn't want to confuse things anymore than they already were. There's something between us and there always will be. What it will become after this is impossible to say. I have much anger and pain to work through; none of it fun. But when I left Michael's house I felt like myself again, and not the crazy person I've been since Monday. There have been a few wobbly moments in the last few hours, but nothing close to the lost feeling that I was feeling before. I'm working through it in my head, and I believe I'll survive now. Though...I still need to get tested for a bunch of STD's which aside from being scary, just pisses me off, as I shouldn't have to do that now. Ugh.

Mark & I went to Meijer on the way home; we both wanted too. I was getting a headache though. I got snacks and in a major step towards having a new beginning, I got new sheets and pillows and pillow cases. I want to put new pictures up in my room as well; want it to have a different look to it, to acknowledge that my life is changing again. I bought a Pepsi on the way out and took my Midrin. I still felt great being myself again, but I did not like the headache at all, which had reached minor-monster status as we were leaving.

When we got home I opened all the sheets and stuff and washed them. I put some stuff in order online. I'm working through the Michael thing as best as I can. I dumped his coke and liquor and put the bottles in the recycle area. I tossed the snickers bar, and started boxing up some of the stuff that he gave me, or that he left here, or that reminds me of him. I need this relationship to have a clear break.

The thing is...I still want Michael. But if I'm to have him again, it can't be a continuation of this relationship; that would kill me. I need it to be new. Maybe it's all symbolism and maybe I'm stupid to want someone who just screwed me over so bad... And there are moments where I hate him so much it doesn't seem possible... But I think there's something in there still worth having and knowing and fighting for. And this is my way of doing that. Maybe I won't be able to get over the past and this will all fall to pieces...but that's not what I want. Whatever happens...I just hope it works out for us all.

And I think I've been awake for a really LONG time now. lol.

Some of my appetite has returned. I've been snacking on these Garlic Chips. Mark got me to try them back in 96, but they've been something I've rarely ever had. It felt like the right time to revisit them.

Jennifer should be here about 6pm I think. I want to go to Pizza House. I had there cinnimon sticks with Mollie & Michael 2 weeks ago and I want some more. I'll try something different to drink this time; I had beer last time. Ick.

I can't tell you how much better I've felt the last few hours. Though I still find myself wanting to know the graphic details of Michael's affairs... I don't know if my curiousity will ever be satisfied. I think he'd answer any question that I had, if he could, but I'm not sure. I don't even know if I can ask him. It seems to hurt him a lot to talk about it, and the other night it hurt to hear it, but the things that I learned then have all been processed and are fine now. I guess.

I'm getting really tired.

   posted by Bald Jason at 02:26 PM
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I watched the 2nd episode of Glee. I slept for about 2 hours. Mark woke me up cause Jennifer was almost here and I got in the shower, feeling dried out (my eyes are dry). I got out to hear them playing Rock Band; Jennifer singing and Mark on drums. I need to finish getting dressed.

   posted by Bald Jason at 06:06 PM
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   Saturday, September 12, 2009

It was good to see Jennifer, despite my exhaustion. We had a good night...though talking about the Michael drama made my stomach upset and prevented our planned outing. After Jennifer Left I cuddled up in bed and called Michael. We talked for like an hour I think. It was nice. It hurts less to talk to him, though my anger and pain have not subsided; they come and go in waves. After the conversation ended I slept for about 6 hours, I think. I'm enjoying my new bedding. After waking, Mark chilled with me for about an hour and then I jumped online and did some snooping...which lead to some pretty gross and worrysome revelations. I'm uber scared now. I tried watching the latest True Blood to calm me down, and it helped a little, but I'm not having a good time this morning.

I should get ready. I need to go to HARC this morning to get tested. I ate during True Blood and I don't think it's gonna stay down.

   posted by Bald Jason at 09:29 AM
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After the last entry, I got dressed and ready to go get tested, but when I woke Mark to tell him where I was going he offered to go with me. He got dressed in a flash and drove me out there. 'Before He Cheats' by Carrie Underwood played in the car, which was hard to hear because Michael was the one to turn me on to it, and then the irony of it all was horrible. We passed the emergency room of St. Jo's and I remembered going there to see Michael in April. Pretty much everything reminds me of him, and makes me miss him...then I remember how badly he's actually been treating me the last few months; how he's betrayed me, and I get angry and weepy all at the same time.

When we arrived the sign for testing wasn't up and when we got to the office it was locked, with another woman waiting outside, who thankfully was already calling in the problem. I texted Michael to let him know I was waiting to get tested and that I was scared. He texted to say that if I'd let him know then he would have gone with me, but I countered that his being there wouldn't make me any less afraid. I was nervous enough about getting tested, but Calvin eventually arrived (he was double booked, which was totally not his fault). The woman kept saying "smitherins" and explained she was working with churces and was saying that instead of cursing. Soon we were in and everything was settled, though Cal (who had jogged from Saint Jo's) was out of breath and apologetic.

Getting tested for HIV at HARC is usually an almost enjoyable experience for me. I like the staff there, and usually when I go I have no real fear for my status...or if I do, it's based on something stupid that I did, and I'm trying to deal with the consequences of my own actions. This time was very different because while it's my fault for trusting Michael, he put me at risk by sleeping with an untold number of guys in dangerous combinations in a very short period of time; something I would never do, but consequently...it's like I did, without having any choice in the matter. So...this time was scary and painful, because I don't like to think about what he did. I was shaking and nearly crying, and Cal gave me a big hug before I left and gave me some advice that he told me he's not allowed to give. I know he's worried about me. I know all my friends are.

Michael had texted me during my counciling session but I had turned off my ringer for that and didn't get them until just after. He was upset and hurt that I was having to go through all of this because of him, and suggested I not talk to him anymore. Several of my other friends agree with him.

On the way home we took a route we'd never taken before. We ended up on Ann Arbor Road and I knew right where we were as I'd been there just 3 weeks (and a day) ago with Michael...just hours after he'd fucked an Itallian guy that lives in Ypsi. More memories and pain. When we pulled into the RiteAid we also found a BaskinRobbins. Michael went to BaskinRobbins several times with me; I didn't get anything but he almost always got these banana splits...

I waited by the car while Mark ran in to check for some stuff he needed. I called Michael and talked to him, expressing how much I miss him, and how angry I am and hurt....but that I don't want to be completely cut off from him. I want to be able to see and speak with him when I need it. I know what I'm going through is normal, but I feel like a fucking lunatic.

We came home, and figured we still had enough time to get to the grocery store and Office Depot before the big game makes the roads a complete disaster. Deb & Denny (our neighbors) were having a meal outside and Deb saw I was still upset and asked how I was. The truth came spilling out of me and she actually cried, and gave me some interesting suggestions about testing for other STDs.

We went to the Office place but they didn't have what we needed (giant Q-Tip things to fix the printer), and we headed to Whole Foods. I decided that I wasn't going to let recent events ruin my eating. I have to keep going. I have to make myself keep going. I got some trail mix (new), some Orange Juice (haven't had that in over 10 years), corn on the cob (not since I was a kid) a lime (new), non-dairy ice cream sandwiches (new), bananas (not since I was a kid), more wheat bread...and that might be all. I think I might make some more pasta later. I feel good about this.

I just had a frothy glass of pulpy orange juuice and it was soooo good. I'm trying to get in a better mood than I've been in. Trying to get out of this funk, even though I know I can't do so completely. I may be down, but I'm not defeated. Not yet. Hopefully I don't come crashing down too hard after saying that.

   posted by Bald Jason at 02:02 PM
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Had some trail mix, which I don't love. The orange juice was delicious, but acidy. I was gonna have corn on the cob but we're out of butter. I had one of those non-dairy ice cream bars, which was yummy. I think I'm gonna try to get some sleep. We might go to Pizza House later, and then the store to get the butter. I wish Michael could go with us. I miss him. And everytime I think about something to do, I think about having him along...and then remember. :-0(

   posted by Bald Jason at 03:22 PM
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1 year ago today (it was a Friday) I put my 2 weeks notice in at Hollywood Video. It's shocking how much that still stings. Here was my note:

September 12, 2008

Hollywood Video
2360 Stadium Blvd.
Ann Arbor, MI 48103

ATTENTION: Store Manager

David,

This is my official two-weeks notice. Unfortunately, I can't be scheduled in that time thanks to the new Hollywood rules. I truly loved working at Hollywood Video for over six years but the company is changing in such a way that I find it impossible to continue working in such an environment. I wish it didn't have to end this way but there are no other options open to me.

Sincerely,

Jason Wright

   posted by Bald Jason at 08:29 PM
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