I am wading in a mire of cloying, festering bitterness and anger. I am dug in, tight as a tick. God help me.
Today I woke up sick (not terribly so--thinking it's just a sinus infection) and then went off to "brunch" with my mother, sister, godmother. The people we went to see live an hour away and were so sweet and kind, and I was so not in the mood to spend essentially an entire day with people I barely know, with no close-friend touchstone, with no break from ceaseless friendly puns, with no way out until people finally decided to leave as the clock approached 4 pm.
Let me stress that they were so kind and friendly, and their home is so lovely. They actually gave Chloe and me each an antique demitasse cup and saucer, and each a handmade apron handed down from their parents or cousins, I don't know. They have goats and chickens, and they let us pick figs from the tree outside their window. Their house is over 200 years old, and they collect antiques, and he restores old buildings.
I left stewing. There wasn't time for us to go to the movie as we had planned with Kelly. There was no time to relax before going to Art and Beth's, which is why I am home trying to relax instead of there with them and so many friends, buying supplies to make care packages for our college buddies. Emily called and got on my case a moment ago and I'll be leaving shortly. I'm glad she called. Hearing her voice helped. I never seem to want to do anything lately.
And with the cold weather approaching, David is utterly inescapable. Every time I think of the fall I think of him. Every time the air cools. Every time I think of travel, or museums, or any sort of adventure. Any time I think of RMA. Any time I am lonely or tired. All the time. I just want to ask him, "why are you doing this?" Or I want to sit on his chest and hit him in the face--left, right, left, right--like A Christmas Story. Or punch him over and over in the stomach. And that's about when I start crying. Again.
There's a whole list of things I wanted to write about from yesterday: egg throwing, crying (more!) over Little Bit, some other things. Maybe I'll get to it later.