I transcribe pretty well

Two handwritten notes, posted for posterity.

12 midnight, 11-06-05 (Sunday night) after returning from a visit with W & K at their house.
I keep on having flashes of Scranton (sounds like a great band name, "Flashes of Scranton"). We're getting Wachovia down here (they are taking over another bank chain), and seeing Wachovia reminds me of the Wachovia Center (which used to be the F.U. Center) where B's mom had her car accident when we were there. Just now, I remembered the roads we traveled in that area.

I want to be over him. I want to be over it. I want to not care. I want to be able to look back, and not feel saddened.

The same phrase echoes through my mind all the time - I thought we were building a life together. To my mind, we were heading towards something, goals of marriage and kids and all that. But we weren't. It was an illusion I had built in my mind and clung to.

I think I clung to that dreamed-of future because then I could justify staying with him, and going back to him.

He always knew we weren't going to work out; I always thought I could change his mind, convince him that we would make a good pair.

And, I can't believe I did that. IN college, after a long on-and-off thing with RM, I promised myself I wasn't again going to try to convince someone to love me. But that's what I spent years with B doing - trying to convince him to love me, enough, and in the right way.

I don't doubt that B loved me. In his own way. We had been through a fair amount together, and he was my rock and sounding board. But he wasn't comfortable expressing it, and he didn't love me enough to be committed or stay committed.

And I stayed around, even when we weren't "together", so the lines blurred, the boundaries hazy, and the definitions unclear. The differences in our "together" and "not together" periods were minor. We still spent the majority of our time with each other. But when we weren't "together"/"dating", we paid for our own meals (which meant we went out less, as I have a lower budget than he) and we weren't physically affectionate.

If, during the "off" periods, either of us mentioned another person of the opposite sex, jealousies were raised, usually under the guise of joking (on his part) or sadness and frustration (on my part). We'd gradually taper off the amount of time we were spending together. Then, somehow, we'd end up back "together". Lather, rinse, repeat. Over the course of 2 1/2 years.

I finally broke the cycle this time...

And, yet, I'm the bad guy. The mean girl who won't take or return his calls. I'm the one who finally set boundaries, and yet I'm made to feel like the bad guy, the bitch, here.

I would LOVE to be over all this, to be able to be in a room with him and not actively hate him or want to burst into tears or want to make love to him. I think, I hope, that someday I will be there. I think, that with time and space and distance and radio silence, I will get there. And we can be acquaintances, people who used to know each other. We'll never be pals or buddies (even using the word buddy makes me sad, as that was a sort of nickname thing we had) or friends. But I hope, someday, we can be civil and conversational. (I don't see it happening soon.)

I can't imagine what it will be like if/when one or the other of us starts dating. K tonight warned me not to bring a date to Thanksgiving at her house. As if I would - it's not like I'm dating yet. She said she told him the same thing, and he made some crack about, "This is me and jess. Who is doing to date us?" And that made me mad - I think it devalues what we had with each other.

Though, before we dated, he used to say things, and when they were particularly bad, we'd say: "Why I'm still single, by BL". This was an imaginary book filled with his idiotic wisdom. So, I shouldn't be surprised by anything he says.

And, then, this whole truck thing. It seems to me, so out of character. It makes me feel like I never really knew him at all. 3 years of friendship, 2 1/2 years of on-and-off dating, and I never would have expected that. Did he change? Was I blind? Why do I still care??? AARRGH!
(finished, 12:53 am)


7:50 am, Monday 11-07-05 at the radio studio
Radio D just chose to play "Go to Extremes" by Billy Joel from the "Storm Front" album. Which, of course, takes me back to B's car. Actually, the graphite Honda Accord. Traveling up and down Poplar Avenue, a thousand different times.

Two bands, two artists, will always be my time with with B - Billy Joel and Barenaked Ladies.

You know, it's funny. The Storm Front tour was my second rock concert ever (The first was They Might Be Giants' "Flood". And then, in college, MT was Billy Joel's "River of Dreams" (and Eric Clapton's Wonderful Tonight and some country music).

And then there was B. Who had never moved past the letter B in his musical progression. He was aware of this - his car CD player had 3 BJ albums, one BNL, and one Bloodhound Gang (Hooray for Boobies).

I'm sitting at work writing this, and I'm fully melancholy. Hearing this music has made me unfocused. Which isn't good for working.


And, now, a post-script to these two notes, written at 10:56 on Wednesday 11-09-05

* I hate local furniture store ads, specifically the always oddly dressed woman with the long stringy blonde hair who ends the spots with "Memphis, southaven and Jackson"

* I talked to my Aunt V for almost two hours today. I lived with her right after college. We're only 4 1/2 years apart in age. She's known me, in one way or another, through all four of my serious adult relationships (J, T, S and B). She's also been divorced and remarried (with, seriously, the world's healthiest divorce). She helped me, A LOT, to be assured that I am doing the right thing for myself here.

* I still want to document my good attempts at being social and getting out into the world. But, more important is to document my mental state.

thanks to y'all for being here for me... Knowing that people care counts a lot.