capsizing. february 10.

then there's the kenna call.

so i was talking work with kenna and she asked me how i was doing.

i spilled about the shrink. i spilled about where i am mentally. she gave me some really good things to think about, not really advice, but things she remembered from this time in her own life. and she asked me a few questions that made me think.

she asked me if i even wanted him to show me affection anymore.

and i realized how violently i've been pushing him away and batting down his attempts to even touch me. my shoulder, my hair, my foot, my leg.

i don't want him anywhere near me. i leave the room when he comes into it. just being near him is starting to drive me batty.

and when she asked and i answered, i simultaneously realized that this is a significant thing.

for so long i didn't want to feel reduced to a roommate. i wanted him to show me affection, and to make me feel loved and respected (not just lusted, which is what i get most often).

it's important that i don't want this from him, because it means that i really don't want to work it out.

she told me that she remembered the feeling of life being a vast ocean, that she was setting out to sea alone and that it was very very scary. terrifying. that she'd been in a safe harbor to that point, despite the fact that she was not happy in it. that it was very stressful leaving the harbor.

i'd already realized alot of what she was telling me, but in different terms. she said in a lot of ways it's like a death. which i had just realized and written out that very morning. because it is. and i think that the last few months have been denial. wanting to try to work on it and fix it. then anger.

which is where i've been simultaneously, but am stuck in presently.

i remember DABDA from psych classes. but not what the b means. i guess i should look it up and then buckle up for that part. and the d part. before the acceptance, which is where i suspect i'll be in a few months. accepting that it is happening and that i'm pretty clear about what i want to do.

actually, i remember. the b stands for: bargaining. but i don't know what that will be like in these terms.

the d is lost on me right now.

i think when i went home, the reason that trip was so hard and so traumatic for me is that i was already there. i was already hopeless. feeling like this sinking ship cannot be bailed out. there's just too much water. it's capsizing.

and i'm putting on my life vest and hoping that i can float long enough to be able to save myself. or to let people i love try to save me.

i don't know.

the next few months are going to suck. the last few already really have.

i just want good things to happen in my life. and i guess that i just want my freedom. the freedom to be myself and to not feel guilty about it.

one of the things kenna told me is that guilt is our mind fighting the belief that we aren't the type of person who would do the thing that we feel guilt about.

like i feel guilty when i leave him alone and do my own thing. because i am fighting the thoughts surrounding my desire to be away from him, and to have more fun than i have when i'm with him.

she said that she feared the 'scarlet letter' thing. like, being marked and judged by all of her friends and her family.

i'm not really afraid of that. let's face it... the majority of my friends who are married haven't stayed that way. which is good in a way, because it means that i have a huge support network. all ends of the spectrum, too. from people who were divorced so quickly that it could have been an annulment to the people with families and kids that complicated things so much more than what i will have to go through.

as silly as it sounds, i'm mostly afraid of losing an entire group of mutual friends who work with him. people i have financially and emotionally supported for the last seven years. i don't want them to hate me and judge me for doing what i am still convinced is completely selfish on my part. but that also feels like the smartest and best thing for me to do.

i know that this isn't some magical answer to a shitty problem. i know that i'm not going to make my decision known and then be happy and light and carefree and free. i know that. i know that i'm going to miss the person in bed next to me every night. i'm going to miss my dog. so so much. she has been our substitute daughter and i cry when i think about her.

i know that as much as i just want to be alone, in my anger right now, that being alone is going to get old pretty fast. because i am perfectly aware of my own past to know that i've never let that be the case before. i fill my life with the next boy.

but i also think i've grown up and matured enough to not fall into that again. and to honestly appreciate just being alone.

i am really good at being devoted and being faithful and being monogamous. i always have been. and i don't want out of this just to be on the market again. it isn't that i want to be with someone else, and that i want to leave him for that person.

though the coffee situation definitely complicates things. i am also not dumb enough to think of that as an even remote possibility.

that's not what this is about.

this is about wanting to be able to feel the things i feel for him. because he proves to me that i am capable.

it's not that ever is a bad person. he's a good guy. but they're all good guys, in a way. and kenna said that it's okay to decide that he's a good guy, but that he's not for me anymore.

and after the week i've had, it's hard to even think that he ever was the right thing for me.

poor brownies.

goddamn i wish i'd listened to her.

who knows where i'd be if not for ignoring her completely, but i wouldn't be here.

what i know now is that i don't think i'm the type to be married. my independence means too much to me now. and i am going to pay a high fucking price for that independence, and it is going to suck. intensely.

but just realizing that i feel these things (and that all the guilt in the world can no longer keep me here) is a huge deal.

because i want a separation.

i'm nearly certain that i want a divorce.

i can't even say that word out loud. or write it. i can talk circles around it and hint at it all day every day. but just saying that word makes my mouth hurt. my head hurt. my heart hurt.

it's not been in my vocabulary, EVER. it's never been an option for me.

divorce. divorce. divorce. divorce. divorce. that oughta help.

life is too fucking short for this mediocrity.

i am too happy and fun a person to keep living this way.

and i'm over the stubbornness of refusing to give in to it. i was so determined to save it. like giving cpr to a person who has been dead for more than five minutes. there is just no point. it is dead.

i accept you, divorce. i accept you as a viable option.

and i'll work through the guilt of getting over the fact that, apparently, i am exactly the type of person who would ask for one.

kenna is going to be a great source of strength and advice for me in the coming months, and i told her that. i told her that, of everyone i know, she will be the person i talk to the most about it because i know that she has been there. that we are such similar people and that i'm in such a similar situation to the one she was in all those years ago (maybe ten or eleven for her), that she will be able to help me more than anyone else i know.

she is glad that i'm seeing a shrink, because it helps to have someone ask important questions that you wouldn't otherwise think of. and to help you process your own answers, and derive things from the words you speak without really thinking, your impulse answers.

if i am with someone again, someday, i want to make out with them. i want to spoon with them. i want to feel like they both love and respect me. i want someone to really get me. to help me accomplish my goals and dreams, not take away every chance i have to reach them. i want someone who understands what makes me tick and also appreciates the same things. i want someone i can share everything with. a best friend. not someone that i forced into this mold of things that they really don't fit into. i want to return to my list of 20 things. and not marry the first person that has only two of them.

i've been STARVING for these things. and maybe the reason i'm at this point is because i realize that it's do or die. i will starve to death, pieces of me will die if i stay in this. because they aren't getting what they need to thrive, to survive.

my heart is so full of love. it always has been. and i think i just made a huge mistake when i chose the person to give the whole thing to, in terms of forever.

and maybe this is all because i never took my heart back from the boy who stole it so long ago. i settled, because i knew i couldn't have him. and i thought i'd never find another one of him ever again. twice in a lifetime? impossible odds.

and i think that is really the root of it. i settled for a boy who loved me more than i loved him. and now here i sit, writing this. wishing i could take it all back. and undo it all to save myself from the things i'm going through now. because saying no to a popped question doesn't even come close to the disappointment of ending a marriage that only lasted seven short years.

it's 206 am.

one more cigarette before i lay in bed and stare at the ceiling until i can't anymore. i've had takk on repeat for three days now in an attempt to make myself cry this shit out. since the day in the shrink's office. heysatan used to do it every time. even that isn't working anymore. i just can't cry.

i'll cry eventually. and when i do, i hope i have a good half hour to just let myself go. because it's inevitable. it's gonna be a good one. maybe the best cry of my life. just letting go of all of it. all the initial shock and grief. i'm ready to say goodbye and bury this chapter of my life. put it to rest.

and while 2009 was the year i never want to speak of again, 2010 is going to be a hard year for me in a different way. and, unfortunately, i'll be talking about it for the rest of my life.

in that way, i guess i am afraid of a scarlet letter. being marked. like i'm going to have to introduce myself, 'i'm tea. and i'm divorced.' i am afraid that it will define me.

but the thing is, it's going to make me smarter.

it's so textbook, and so clear to me now.

and more than anything, i want other people to know what i've been through so that i can help them to avoid it.

because if i wasn't so stubborn and my mind hadn't been so made up, i'd have seen all the signs from a mile away. and run away as fast as i could.

i should never have settled. whether it meant putting it on the line with coffee and really knowing once and for all that it was over and done with and that it was all in my head. or whether it just meant being willing to walk to the ends of the earth to find another one of him. it wouldn't have been this.

i think pretty often 'i didn't sign up for this'. i didn't sign up to be someone's mother. i signed up to be someone's wife. and if that's not how i'm going to be treated and valued, then i have no use for it anymore. if i wanted to be a mother, i'd have a fucking child.

if only it was that easy.

to just know, and break free. but my conscience won't let me do that yet.

nina said it is like having kids. there's never going to be a right time. it's going to be a bumpy road, this i know. but eventually, like having kids, you just decide that it is what you want. and that you are willing to make the sacrifices necessary to have it.

and i'm on the edge of the cliff. checking my parachute for tears as i get ready to jump.

things i never said...

dear coffee,

you said you write love letters. i realize that i have written many in my lifetime, but none in at least seven years.

all of my best things were about you. it seems unfair, because i didn't even spend time with you after i wrote them.

things that still bother me:

i wrote down things that you said to me, so i know i wasn't making up everything. i could never figure out why your words were so fleeting. or why you kissed so many girls, none of which were me.

i could never figure out why you didn't call me. i could never figure out why i had to come to you, not the other way around.

i guess i never got over not kissing you. and i'd do it now in a heartbeat given the right time, place, and circumstance. which wouldn't be much, in case you're wondering.

but this isn't feeling like much of a love letter.

i always said too much, and it kept me from getting to know you. all i wanted was to be with you and i still do.

you just said things that i feel were a bit of a setup to tangle me up when it came to you. you shared your excitement with me so many times, and we had so much fun together, just being ourselves. and then it was gone. and you moved on. but in a way i never did. i never became un-hung up on you.

i never felt as natural a fit as when i curled up with you.

i'm glad that i met you during the best year of my life. but it makes me sad to think that that was the best year of my life. because that was thirteen years ago. i long for those days when life was so simple and fun and pure and easy.

that summer and the fall that followed defined me as a person, and you played a large role in that, even before we were friends. i felt like i had everything in common with you and spent the few years after you trying to find someone so much like me. but i never found anyone like you. and i got tired of waiting. and tired of looking. and i thought that my life now was the best i could do without you.

i feel like we never got the timing right. and if i could go back and undo any one thing with you, it would be the day that i didn't go to get your vespa with you. and here i sit all this time later, just wishing that i could go back and change that one thing. and something tells me that you don't even remember that day at all...

i crave this (spoken from a place with my head on your chest)

that being said, this is how i want to end this note:

you were the one that got away.

maybe someday you will come back.


headshrink. february 8 & 9.

am i crazy?

how is this even possible?

i am sitting here. and i am thinking about him again.

i'm thinking, plotting. i'm creating ways to see him, and forming words into sentences.

trying out different phrases.

'hey, coffee. i'm thinking about going to this thing. are you going to be in town for it?'

no, too blatant.

'hi, coffee. i'm thinking of going to this thing. are you going to be there?'

no. ugh.

'hey. i got a ticket to this thing. i was wondering if i'm going to see you there.'

too much?

it all feels like too much. that's the problem.

nina was right before. i am still kicking my own ass about december. about that one fucking question. the one i didn't ask. i had every reason to, and i was drunk enough to. and i lost my nerve. and have regretted it everyday since.


why the torment?

nothing happened for like 7 years. and then one tiny blip. and here it is, full swing, all over again.

like no time has passed.

it makes me doubt everything about myself. every decision.

it's the whole birthday thing that makes me sick and makes me want to not say anything at all.

the only solace is that it might not have been seen or read. but i highly doubt that.

and that is exactly why i don't want to ask.

i just want to go.

and see.

and hope. and wonder. for 26 more days. until that day.

i'm counting. i'm planning. i'm hoping. i'm wishing.

things have been so shitty for me lately. i should be grateful, though. i have my health, i'm doing okay in the largest sense.

but mentally, and emotionally, not so much.

i've been sleeping a lot. which for me, is a little alarming. i've been in bed early for at least a week now. avoiding ever and spending as little time around him as possible.

i definitely have this feeling that there's no coming back from this for me.

it SUCKS. i just want him to end it already. just call it. time of death. do it.

and i don't know why i'm taking this role. i don't think that i could live with the guilt, i guess. i just want to push him so far away from me that he thinks it's his idea. and his decision.

i don't know. not all of our days are bad. but the good ones are just good days like you'd have with a friend. or a relative.

they aren't romantic days, or days where i feel appreciated. they aren't days where i feel turned on or have the desire to be close to him.

those days never happen anymore.

my days are spent freaking out over the little shit. being completely irate over insignificant little details. stuff that no one else would even notice. but that make me fucking CRAZY.

the thermostat. the dirty dishes. cleaning the entire house, after he lost a bet and was supposed to clean the first floor for me. not once, but TWICE.

it's so exhausting.

today i did something. i don't quite know how to feel about it yet. i did it because i was angry. i did it because i was daydreaming. i did it because i thought it would make me feel better.

and now, i blame it for keeping me up.

i separated our books and movies on the bookshelf in the dining room. mine from his.

in a way, it feels like letting go of something i've been clinging onto for a very long time. in a way, it feels like giving up. in a way, it feels like coming to terms with the road ahead of me.

and in a way, it feels like a childish thing to do. a thing that, tomorrow, i'll wish i hadn't done.

and then, in a way, it feels like a tiny step toward taking my life back.

because all day today, with everything i moved around to clean, with every shelf i organized, i was moving his stuff, organizing his stuff. for him. because he has been promising to do it for a long time. and i just couldn't take it anymore.

how i have to clean this house top to bottom every other weekend is completely beyond me. it gets so completely destroyed in just one week. and i'll be so determined to have a weekend that i'll let it get even more out of hand for a second week before caving in and dealing with it.

AND IT IS ALL HIS SHIT. none of it is mine.

it is just crazy.

so that's what i mean about taking my life back.

i have so little here. i've written about it before. and yes, i'm messy. but i also clean up a few things a day. and if it was only my stuff i was contending with, it would be much easier to maintain.

i just can't seem to get enough time away from him lately. and enough space between us.

he barely sees me, and when he does i'm just bitching about the laundry list i compiled in my mind all day when i was away from him, fuming.

he still hasn't touched the marriage book. and he's given me his word on at least three occasions that he would. but then i guess he smokes weed and forgets to.

i wrote it out the other day in my journal. these are a few typical conversations. keep in mind, this is completely unprovoked. i'll be sitting, reading, sometimes even smiling...

him: why are you so upset?
me: 'i'm not upset.'
him: [insert comment]. is that why you're so upset?'


him: why are you so sad?
me: 'i'm not sad.'
him: [insert comment]. is that why you're so sad?'


him: why are you so angry?
me: 'i'm not angry.'
him: [insert comment]. is that why you're so angry?'

and then, THAT is what makes me angry/upset.

it's like the self fulfilling prophesy.

it's annoying as shit.

last night, i literally wrote that out. and within two minutes, he walked upstairs and sat down next to me. i closed my journal, and he asked why i was upset.

i totally snapped at him.

i said that i wasn't upset. that i'm tired of him trying to create imaginary problems. that i'm just reading. doing my own thing. that nothing is wrong. and that when he asks me why i'm upset or mad, it just makes me upset and mad. when i wasn't before.

he said i'm not communicating with him.

i said that i have told him so many times what i'm angry and upset about, that he ignores it, doesn't act on it, and that i'm sick of hearing myself say it. for me, with him, it is almost always, 9 times out of 10, about him smoking weed. endlessly. all day long.

this week, i came home from work to get the car, before going back to work. it was 130 in the afternoon. the middle of his workday, and he had just lit a huge joint.

i couldn't believe it. i just stared at him and shook my head, before leaving the room.

i thought that was bad. but yesterday i woke up at 745 on my day off, because i'd gone to bed so early the night before, and he was already smoking weed.

he went back to bed. i guess that time, it was to 'help him sleep'.

unlike the times when it's to 'help him relax', 'help him unwind', 'help him calm down', 'help him stop thinking about his day'.

there's a list of excuses a mile long.

and with the hiding.

he ran out on thursday. he was an asshole on the phone, i could tell he hadn't smoked. and then i got home, and could tell that he had. the next day, there was none laying around, where he usually keeps it, but there was a part of a joint laying on the table.

the next day, no weed in its usual spot. different joint on the table.

and then today, no weed in its usual spot, but a new joint rolled on the table. so i asked him where the weed was, and he said that he was out. that that was all that was left.

i don't smoke much. or often. a few nights a week, i'll take the tiniest bit and smoke it. but this weekend, it wasn't there for me to take. and i'm fine with that. i had a beer, so i didn't need it. but it made me notice that there was none.

i give him shit about going through it so fast.

i think he thinks that if he hides it, either 1. i won't notice, or 2. that i won't smoke it, or 3. that he can hold it over my head if i ask for it ('see? you want to smoke weed, too').

all problematic.

anything in moderation. well, most anything. i'm okay with that.

but he can't do anything in moderation. not weed, not ice cream. not cereal. not cigarettes. not alcohol. not other things.

and it just adds fuel to the fire under me. the one that is getting too hot to stand near.

i just want to leave the fire. let it burn if it wants to. but be nowhere near it to watch it burn out.

THAT WAS YESTERDAY. sunday. well, technically today, because it was 1 am. to back up...

i wrote that after i went to bed at 930. i started to fall asleep reading nate's manuscript. turned off the lamp. that was 1030.

and promptly had a panic attack.

it was for no reason.

i had been drifting off into sleep, and then it hit me. i tried to calm myself down. just by breathing and thiinking that there was nothing to be freaking out about.

i seriously felt like i'd just done a line of coke. even though i never have, it's what i imagine it would feel like.

i got up after 15 minutes of trying to slow it failed. smoked a few cigarettes, poured a tiny glass of wine. a little more than a shot glass would be.

and finally fell asleep after writing that whole thing out.

this is today:

i had my second shrink appointment.

just re-reading what i wrote last night brought back my heart racing.

so i guess now that i know what it was about.

so i was telling her (my new doctor) what happened last night. she asked how things had been going with him since the last time i saw her (2 weeks ago). i told her that it was all the same, but that now i felt different. i told her about the bookshelf and alot of other things i wrote about last night.

i told her that i feel myself separating from him. doing things away from him. physically separating. mentally separating (i made a list of things to take if i leave and a list of what each of our expenses would be).

and toward the end of the session (an hour that literally felt like 30 minutes, tops - i felt cheated until i saw that it had been a full hour), she asked me a question. after i'd basically complained about everything that i've been upset about, about his history (so she knows where my fears come from), about my family's reaction to these discussions when i went home in december.

she asked what's good about my marriage, why i want to work it out. and i just stared out the window. because i couldn't think of a single thing. i laughed because i was nervous, and said i'd have to think about it and get back to her. i said that we have fun sometimes, that he's funny sometimes. i said that i love him.

but i couldn't think of a single thing that i get out of it.

i feel like i give everything to him, and get nothing back. and i talked fighting tears.

and three minutes later she was telling me that i should schedule my next appointment on my way out.

it was literally one of the last things we talked about. i was shaking, i was so upset by it.

i told her that i was shaken up, and that i'd have to calm down before i got into the car. i made a tori mix for my road trip with hum and had put in it to calm down on my way there. i was running very late, and driving in the snow aftermath was slick and bright. so i was rushing, which induces panic in me. and smoking. and driving.

anyways, i got in the car after the session, and the song that was on made me want to pull over and cry my eyes out for a while. but i fought tears and drove slow in 5 oclock traffic instead.

and then the next song was almost as heartstring-pulling.

i guess it was cooling, then cloud on my tongue.

they just felt so sad and heartfelt, both were live versions, so her voice just struck something in me. and it was awful.

i was so hungry when i got home, all i wanted was food. so we ordered pizza and he went to pick it up.

when i walked in, we went upstairs to smoke. and low and behold, a fresh joint. he had just told me yesterday that (pointing at next to nothing) that was all he had left.

and i called him on it.

i said 'last night you said that was all you had left' (pointing to a different little tiny bit of weed) 'yet, you have a new joint. what is going on? why are you hiding this shit from me?'

he said he's not hiding it, but didn't answer my question, and said that he just put it in a different place. i reminded him that he said he was out yesterday, but that he wasn't and he went into this other detailed explanation about tiny bags of weed and not buying how much he usually buys. still not explaining how he was out but wasn't.

and this is the shit that fucking PISSES ME OFF. just don't lie. don't hide. be honest.

i cannot wrap my head around it.

so today when i got home, he asked how my appointment was. i told him that i was literally completely depleted. exhausted from a crazy rushing day. told him about the panic attack last night. and that i needed food as soon as possible.

that is pretty much it.

how can i not quantitate what i get from my marriage?

she also asked me towards the end of the session if i really wanted to commit to couples therapy. i told her that i did. because i do want to try to be happy with him.

she said that i sound resigned/defeated - i forget the word she used.

and i said that i'm just tired. which also made me choke up.

i'm just TIRED.

she said that it's a huge committment, and that she always warns people that it requires a lot of work and dedication if you're going to do it.

and what came from me, via her questions, is that i think it's a kind of a test. because in a way, i don't expect him to actually follow through with it. like something would come up and he wouldn't end up going. or he would go and then make jokes about it or belittle it after. which is what he's already doing with my own therapy.

he asked what we talked about. and because i'm so tired of everything, i just told him. the whole session was about us. as in, me and him.

and he asked what upset me so much, and i told him that she asked me what i was getting from our marriage and that i couldn't answer her.

which of course surprised him. and he is 'worried about me'. and i asked him what he gets out of our marriage. and he says that he gets love and companionship and that there's nowhere he'd rather be than with me, even if we're just watching tv.

i don't know. he said a couple other things. and i mentioned that she asked what i expected from him. and i told her that i want him to bathe. and help around the house. and smoke weed less. and that i don't feel like i'm asking too much.

to which he replied that he's helping more and bathing more and sleeping in bed every night.

i don't know. she asked me (when i couldn't come up with things) why i wanted to stay married. and i said in a roundabout way that it's because it's easier and because i don't want to rock the boat.

and she said, 'because it's the easier thing to do is never a reason to stay married.'

another thing we talked about was that being with someone like him is nothing new to me. that i always have been with boys who were 'broken'. because i thought i could fix them, i guess. that i always went for the musician types with no car and no money. that i was always the one doing the supporting.

i told her about him being the first one who didn't run when i mentioned marriage.

she asked why i married him, and i told her that i honestly couldn't remember anymore. that i guess it's because i was brought up to think that you get married and have babies. that's what you do. that i was the last of my friends to be married, that they all had two kids by the time i got married. so that it just felt like the next natural step.

i told her that the week before and the week after, he told me that he thought it was a mistake, because i wasn't really in love with him, just with the idea of getting married.

which i denied at the time, because i didn't believe it. but that i now realize is probably entirely true.

we talked about finances, too. how tangled everything is. i told her about my decision to open a savings account in secret when i get my check for mileage.

and i told her that sometimes i just want to take his cards away from him, and give him an allowance for the week, to limit what he spends on weed. and she said 'i thought you didn't like being his mom. isn't that just another thing that would make you feel that way?'

to which i replied, 'yes. but what's the alternative? him spending our money when he feels like it, and not being honest about what he's spending it on? at least then i'd have control over where my money goes.'

we discussed our separate but joint business and personal accounts, and thinking about it now, i guess she was planting a seed in my mind. that if i can get our accounts separated in that way, that it will make things easier later if things end up the way i really believe they are going to.

and that's good for me to think about.

because it can be set up to be one less thing to detangle later.

she asked if everything is in both of our names, the house, etc. and i said yes. because it all is. and that thinking about having to separate it all is the most stressful aspect of the situation.

i told her about wanting him to call it, to end it. and that it would make me feel less guilty. i told her that i'm afraid he'll die without me, and that i feel like i'm throwing him to the wolves if i just leave him. because he doesn't have the skills to pay bills and manage money like an adult.

and the thing is, she did point it out in a way... but none of these are reasons to stay together.

and it's not that i think my life is just going to be magically better if it is over. but it won't be this. and i'll have a chance to be happy.

after all of that, i got a package from my mom again.

it was a valentine's package. she told me on friday that she was sending it.

and when i opened it, there was a card on top.

and she drew this big heart and wrote 'tea loves ever'.

and it made me feel like i was going to throw up. i took the card out and hid the envelope.

and then i'm digging through a massive pile of candy. seriously, the box weighed in at about ten pounds. and at the bottom, there was a pair of naughty dice.

and the sides facing out read 'ten little kisses' and 'in the kitchen'.

and luckily he was sitting on the couch across the room from me.

because i emptied out everything else in the box. and took the 'empty' box out of the room, and buried the dice in a box of my keepsakes in our bedroom.

i have to remind her not to mention them.

today sucked. i think my mind is starting to decide what to do, and very very slowly, how to execute the plan.

and this box from my mom just made me want to throw up.

i wrote about it in my journal but nowhere else, last night. i am fucking DREADING valentines day. and in just over a month, our anniversary. like, it makes me feel ill.

completely sick inside.

i don't know what either will bring, but i know that for me, personally, gone are the days when i had warm fuzzy feelings about either event. and now it's just one more thing on my long list of things that i dread.