this is probably my last night.
in this house.
in this bed.
and i can't honestly believe it. because i still have so much left to pack/move/do.
but in all likelihood, this is the end of this for me.
it's pretty sad.
i've been having panic attacks, pretty much daily. all week long.
i had one last night. in drawing class.
it was really unsettling.
kit and i had dinner and a beer before class. we were talking. everything was fine.
went to class. we had our first model. she was really tall, really skinny. which made her easier to draw, i think. when there's just skin over a skeleton, you know...
in any case, we did a ton of 1 minute gesture drawings. and i was nailing them left and right. i was pretty happy with the majority of them, even though some were unfinished.
and then he went into this lecture about the seven and a half versus eight head proportion, saying that every body is essentially one or the other, that eight is just easier to deal with, being an even number and all. and where each point on the body is, in that alignment. that a person is eight heads tall.
which was really interesting. and he kept saying 'pubic' which was making us giggle. after having stared at a naked lady for 20 minutes, giggling at 'pubic' seemed kindof ironic.
anyways, so i followed that part. i've taken figure drawing classes, and had never heard of that before. this class is all about proportion, but anyways. so all was well, about an hour and a half in.
and then, he started talking about making cylinders. one for the head, one for the ribs, one for the pelvis, one for the upper and lower arms, one for the upper and lower legs. and i watched him draw it perfectly.
i followed, but i couldn't duplicate it. and i started to panic. and all i wanted was out of the class.
i tried to tell myself that everything was okay, that it's wednesday, and that this class has one purpose: to chill me the fuck out.
so, after about an hour of him talking, i was growing increasingly uncomfortable. and then we only had maybe 20 more minutes of the model before the class was over.
and i started and erased so many drawings. i just couldn't get it right. and he wanted us to draw all these proportion markings, and all these cylinders. and i just kept saying 'fuck it. i'm going to do more gestures, because i was fine.' but it was like i was broken. and i couldn't go back. nothing i drew after that came out right.
so i toughed it out, and packed up and left.
went to kit's. had a beer. and she was great. telling me that he's going to be okay. that i'm going to be okay. that it's going to get better soon.
that everything is going to work out. that he's going to be a better person, stronger. that i am, too. and that i'm going to be happy.
and i know all of these things. but she was trying to calm me down, and it did help. her words were so slow and calm and deliberate. i couldn't have handled going home otherwise.
so i got home, and into bed. ever wasn't even here, he was out at a show.
so i tried to sleep, which took a while. and then woke up at 115 when he got in and that dog went nuts. fell asleep eventually again, woke up again. all night like that. thinking i was late for work, or because the sun was filtering into the windows.
my phone rang at 620, some delivery douchebag calling me for no good reason.
i know i fell asleep after that, because i was dreaming, but it was work dreaming, so it didn't feel like sleep.
and tonight, i did a few things.
i dropped off a package for ever. and it was just too close to ikea.
i've been wanting to go, but ikea is so fun for me, that i felt like i shouldn't allow it yet.
i'm afraid of being excited, i guess.
because when it comes down to it, i'm really dreading leaving this house. i'm really dreading moving out.
but there are things i need to function.
and i had to have them. and what better place than ikea?
so i went in. and i had specific things in mind. and some other things that i didn't intend to get that wound up in the cart.
i needed little night stand and end tables. i needed lamps for the tables.
lack tables are pretty much one of my favorite things ever. so i got two black ones. one for the living room. one for the kitchen.
the lamps are pretty cool. little white frosted glass rectangles. you set the bulbs down inside, so it makes this really soft and glowy light.
i got a bathmat. they only had white ones, which really surprised me, but i rolled with it.
i like having a little trash can in each room, so i got one white one and two black ones. because i didn't want red.
i got a welcome mat for the outside of the door. boring bristly brown.
i got a set of frying pans and sauce pans. i love their non-stick stuff, and felt bad taking the only good one with me. so i'll leave that one, and take the new ones.
i got a dish drying rack, and silverware because ours is hodge podge and ghetto, so i'm starting fresh.
and i got the makings for a desk. just a flat plank of white, with black metal legs.
and i got this tiny little plant. because i thought it would bring a little cheer to the place. fresh air, even.
and what i realized is that almost every single thing i got was black and white.
i realized that i'm buying things for my first apartment. which sounds insane.
even though it's more of a halfway house.
i told kit last night that i'm glad to have this apartment for two months. because the first two months are going to suck. and it's actually pretty cool to have that happen in a place that i won't be living in for the next year.
and what's more, once she moves into it in two months, it will be so completely different, that i hope to not have any of those old horrible associations with the apartment itself.
and once i get these two shitty months behind me, i look forward to falling in love with a place, and moving into it. it will give me time to save up (hopefully) for some furniture, because i won't have any until then. i would kindof like to move the green couch in there, just to have a couch to sit on. but i don't feel like moving it, and i guess i also don't have a way to move it.
i'm taking an old futon mattress pad with me. i'll be sleeping on the floor most likely. unless i buy the crappy wood frame that can go under it. i don't know what's worse.
and i have all the bedding i could ever want or need.
so tomorrow i work a little, but also tackle the huge monster task of packing my bedroom (clothes like woah) and the bathroom and the rest of the kitchen.
i'm only taking things that my grandmother made (quilts, afghans, etc), my aunt made (dishes from our wedding presents), and things i know i'll need (pans, etc.). the rest is all staying.
and i wish i didn't have to take it all, because really i won't be needing it in the next two months.
but i don't know if i can go through this again in a couple months. i will have to take things every time i come here to help out with ever's business. but i want the majority out now.
so i'm going to have a shit ton of shit that i won't ever need, just for the sake of taking it now rather than later.
and this is all just so surreal. i can't believe that this is my last night in our queen size bed.
it will be good for him to sleep in this bed, get a good night's sleep in it when i am gone.
but it's just sad.
very cold. very lonely. before it even has to be.
and we had a good day today. he was joking and laughing, we were talking with mutual friends who all know what is going on. we were brainstorming and working together. all was well.
then i went on the shipping/ikea/boxes trip.
and when i came home with boxes, and he saw them, temper tantrum.
he has this one line. every single day. he says, 'so you're still moving out on friday?' or 'so you're still leaving me?'
i guess he alternates between the two.
and today i said, 'you're still not doing anything to persuade me to stay?'
because that is true. asking me if i'm leaving isn't doing anything to try to get me to stay.
and you know what i expect tomorrow?
i expect him to throw himself at my feet. begging me not to leave him. begging me to stay. crying, begging. please please please don't leave me.
and that is what i get sad about. like he's a child. like he can only get that far into realizing what is happening, and never seeing the bigger picture. wanting the instant gratification of his tears equating to me staying.
kit wants him to see me leave. she wants me to see him when i leave. in the name of closure.
and i honestly want to leave when he's not home. or when he's not awake.
i want it to be over with. like a thief in the night. i don't know what tomorrow will bring.
and i'm scared. and i'm going to panic, i know. because the last week has shown me that.
and i'm going to leave.
and then i'm going to take off my rings. i think i might wear the band on my other hand, pinky finger. but i don't really know.
they will probably both end up in the box they came in.
and then i will drink. and kit will take care of me (i hope she doesn't want to divorce ME when this is all said and done), and i'll sleep. and wake up. and have breakfast.
and i'll somehow manage to be really excited and sad at the same time. hopeful/expectant and trying not to get my hopes up. depressed and single.
and i'll look for coffee without looking for coffee. and i'll either be genuinely surprised to see him, or genuinely surprised to not see him.
and then all i can do is hope that he had nothing to do with this.
and like, how when i went to florida, i hoped to see him and him have no effect on me, i hope that i don't see him this time. because it's going to be too fresh. too new. i'm going to be too vulnerable.
because what do you say when you literally just left your husband the day before? literally just took off your rings the night before? literally just started a new chapter of your life less than 24 hours before?
what ridiculous timing.
the only thing is...the beer. it will save me. it will be such a wonderful distraction. whether there is coffee or no coffee. there will be beer.
and i don't want to have to think about the possibility that there could be any more disappointment for one weekend.
because wouldn't it be something to have just one drink? just one.
just one drink. that's all i want.
and then in my double-drunkenness, to ask:
'why didn't you kiss me?'
and to put it to rest.
once and for all.
and not let that be one of the things that will keep me up at night over the next two months. when i second guess every single thought and decision. every motivation.
i took the train to work today, and wrote in my paper journal on my way.
and i realized something.
i'm about to undo some things that i've been wishing i could undo for years.
my short list of regrets.
and instead now, of living with this one decision, day in and day out. being so unhappy for so long.
now i can really let go of that. i mean, it's not like taking it back. i can never truly go back to my life before ever came along.
but to not have to say anymore that i'm living with my decision for the rest of my life.
and that is really profound. or it seems that way to me.
i can re-write history.
and i realized something else.
when i went home in december, i put that timer on this page. decide to decide, set to go off on my birthday.
and i knew that i'd know by summer. that i'd have already decided by then.
but i never, EVER, could have guessed that i'd know by february 14th.
never in a million years.
and one more thing, in closing, because this is getting a little too long-winded, even for me!
there's this building. it was built in 1888, same year as our house.
and this development company bought it to demolish it, to build condos. naturally.
and it needed to come down. it was in complete disrepair. hadn't been used in probably 40 years.
but they've been literally chipping away at it. i think it's three stories high. from the day the fences went up, until now, it's been about a month.
and they just chip away at it, every day. and i've been photo-documenting the whole thing. it was this sad thing happening before my eyes. i pass it every day on my way to work, when i take the train.
and it has always felt like vultures tearing away at a carcass.
so it was comprised of three huge brick buildings. and they were connected in a c shape.
and it's been this slow progression. every day, another section is gone.
and the timing has been unreal, because it started a week before we decided to call it quits.
and now, the day before i leave, the tiniest section of the building is left.
and i had this feeling, maybe a week ago, that it would be done on the day i moved out. that the deterioration of the building-carcass would be the ultimate metaphor for my crumbling marriage. into dust. into the ground from which we came.
and sure enough, if there isn't the tiniest sliver left for tomorrow, or possibly the day after... the building will be gone when i am.
on that note, i'm going to attempt to sleep.
i don't know how.
but i'm going to try. i'm going to need all of my strength for the day i'm living tomorrow.