Friday, September 11, 2009

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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