2001-08-03 - 10:23 a.m.
I bought some sunflowers at the florist on Greenwich Avenue, 3 big sunflowers for $5.00. Almost 2 weeks later, they are still alive and healthy, sitting on top of my mosaic topped table in a beautiful, squat glass vase I got as a gift. Best $5.00 I've spent in a long time. Last night, after dinner with my friend Maria, and coffee outside at Cafe (mediocre coffee and crappy mousse cake - and when I asked for whipped cream, the waiter brought out a CAN of it and left it on the table - me: "Are you leaving that here with me? I don't recommend that") I caught a couple of hours of alone time, to sit and write in my paper journal. That time spent with myself has become really important to me, and it's getting harder and harder to get it these days.And while I was sitting there, giving myself a facial and burning my red currant candle, I realized how much I miss it. And the only reason I don't have that time is because I don't take it. Again, conditioned response.
The boyfriend told me he was going to go out with the boys last night, and would probably be out late, and we're leaving tonight to go upstate. So he'd sleep in his own apartment. And, as much as I hate to admit it, I felt a little pang at that - that little pinprick of rejection. Rejection that doesn't exist on this plane, in this reality. But there I go, feeling the ghost pains of a relationship that I no longer have, a life I no longer live. Strange, that. And reassuring, to have learned enough to be able to, in the very next moment, take a step back from the visceral reaction and identify its trigger. Maria spent the evening telling me about her new man, her own post-divorce first serious relationship. She's so happy, and afraid to trust it. I know that feeling - this relationship with the boyfriend has been amazing for me, close enough that I feel secure, but with enough distance to allow me to work through my issues. And this has been consistent, to different degrees, since the start. But there's still a little part of me that wants to run away screaming, so I don't have to watch it blow up. Because that part still expects it. The blow up.
I'm trying to beat it into submission though - the big chicken.
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last five entries:
done - 2005-09-16
playgroup, my ass - 2005-09-15
late, but heartfelt - 2005-09-13
she lives - 2005-08-18
cheese me - 2005-05-20