Sponsor me in the 2005 MS Walk! Why? Read here.
My brain has been spinning so hard for the past couple of days that I'm nto sure I'll even be able to type an entry that makes sense. I've got to try, though--that's why I started keeping this journal in the first place, isn't it? For just those times when there's so much in my head that I need to get some of it to come out?
Someone is making a lot of noise outside my house, and I'm not sure if it's pleasant, you're-my-friend-and-I'm-giving-you-a-hard-time noise, or if it's I-hate-you-and-I'm-sounding-jovial-but-any-second-this-will-get-violent noise. They sound remarkably the same.
I had another Artboy dream last night. In this one, I was at my grandmother's house with the Boyfriend, and an old friend from high school showed up. He wanted to take us for a ride in his new car, so the three of us went out and piled into the convertible in the driveway (on a reality side note--I haven't seen or talked to this HS friend in eight years, not have I thought about him at all, so I'm not sure why he was in my dream, but--no telling what moves the subconscious, you know). As we were about to pull out, the Artboy pulled in behind us and stopped us from leaving. He came over to the car and told me that he just wanted to stop and let me know that he and Donna had gotten married over the weekend, and he just wanted to let me know (second reality side note--I have no idea who Donna is. His girlfriend might be named Donna--she might not. I don't know). Then he got back into his truck and drove away, and the Boyfriend, Russell and I went out for breakfast in his new car.
Not exactly sure what all that means.
I've been thinking, though, about the entry I added on Friday, and about what my motives are in being in touch with the Artboy. I've come up with another idea that I hadn't considered before. All along, in the history of our relationship, I've tried to walk away and he's stopped me. I've said goodbye, and I've gotten, "okay, that's fine--no wait--don't leave me!"
A part of me has gotten used to that. A part of me likes that.
I can admit that here, in my journal, because I don't have to see any of you face-to-face.
We D-landers are a needy group. We crave the hits, the guestbook signatures, the acknowledgement that someone likes us. I dont' believe that stops at the Diaryland page.
The Artboy's coming back after me is a signal that I'm important, that I'm needed, that someone loves me.
Some part of me has thrived on that.
I'm ashamed to admit that.
I don't want it any more, though. I really don't. Being with the Boyfriend has put me in a place where for the first time, I get that recognition in little ways every day, without the drama, without the traumatic feelings, without the heartache.
I guess I don't trust that it's over, though. The last time I thought it was past, I ran into the Artboy and the cycle started over again, and I crumpled.
So now I'm testing us both. In some evil, twisted way. I want to see if he'll really resist the bait, and I need to see if I could just walk away.
He's resisted. I don't want to push so hard that I destroy both our lives, just to prove a point. I'm done playing that game.
Amy, you're right. I don't need to win this one. I won something else, and it has nothing to do with the Artboy.
So I wrote him an emailtoday, and told him I was glad he has someone to kiss at Midnight on New Year's Eve. I wished him luck, and reminded him that if nothing else, he and I have tought each other how to not treat your partner for a successful relationship. I told him I was glad the gallery was coming together, and that I hoped it will be a huge success. I expressed hope that his last semester of grad school goes well. Then I told him I wouldn't email him again. I didn't think it was necessarily a good exchange for me, and that as much as I will always love him, it's time for me to leave that alone. I acknowledged that the possibility exists that we'll run into each other, somewhere along the line, and that although it will be akward if it happens, I'm sure we can handle it like adults, and I'm sure it will be fine, but I won't seek it out.
Then I hit the file button instead of the send button. I haven't decided if it really says what I want it to say. But I know I want to say it.
Yesterday, my mom and I went to Doris's funeral. After the service, we went to my cousin Judy's house. She lives right on a lake in NH--a gorgeous spot. Judy's son, my cousin Danny, was there, too. Mom and Danny got talking about the "camps"--the smaller cottages around Judy's house that their family rents in the summer, where my mom and grandparents spent many summers renting the Primrose cottage themselves. Danny told her that one of them, Pine Kot, was going up for rent this summer for the first time in years, and that he gets to choose the new renters, if she was interested.
The weekend ended with a plan. My mom and I, in conjunction with my stepfather and the Boyfriend, are going to try to rent the cottage. The Boyfriend and I can use it on the weekends, and my mom and stepdad will take it for their two vacation weeks.
The Boyfriend is really excited about the prospect. It fills a lifelong want of his for a summer place like that without involving an investment neither of us is prepared to make right now. It surrounds us with family. It gives us a project together. And it gives us a place to go that doesn't involve the day-to-day life issues--there isn't even a phone in the cottage!
Today, we were talking about the idea, and he said to me, "Does it feel weird to you for us to be making a plan like this, that involves so much 'we' thinking?"
Truth is, it feels good. AND I get a good place to spend the summer.
Like playing house. But not.
*****
In other news, I'm still waiting to see what happens with the Diaryland Survivor contest. The list of players is supposed to come out soon. Weird how much I want to play!
---------------------------------------------
Something to say about this entry?
Add your comments here (0 people have spoken already)
< Much Ado About Nothing | Hmmm? >
