Stress Headache

Well…things are really at the most stressful they’ve ever been.

Tonight Megan told me that I have until the weekend to find a place (if at all possible) It’s not.

I know that I’m staying at her place, I’ve been here for two weeks, and I’m sure I’m using up her charitable nature (which is relatively small). I’m not dirty, I’m not difficult, I’m nothing but in her apartment like a presence that she must not like. I don’t know exactly why.

I know those reasons, but I also know that we had a place lined up which fell through the day I arrived here. I know that that lost me a few studio apartments I had been looking at. That really throws off the entire vibe. I also know that I’m not made of money and she knows that, and I’m splitting the rent with her for this place, without much splitting at all. I also know that she stayed somewhere safe and rent free for six months before she moved out on her own here in LA and that she said it took her almost that long to find a place she liked.

I know she’s been cranky to me since I’ve been here. I like Megan, don’t get me wrong, I owe her a lot…but I’m trying my best with this move. If I knew it was going to be such a fucking pain to spend time with her, I never would have come out here when I did. I would’ve lined up a place ahead of time. Now, the one place that actually feels safe and good of the places I’ve been looking at won’t let me in until Wednesday and I’m out Monday. That means I’m sleeping in my freakin’ car at the very least. I’ve got to find a place and I’m working my butt off trying to find one and she comes home late and sees me here and leaves early and sees me here and believes that that means I’m not looking. I am.

I’m not a lonely or sad person. I’m not. Even when I’m down I find ways to bring myself up and distract myself. But now I’m alone in the worst way, around someone who could be supportive but chooses to be a problem. I’m not difficult in anyway staying here…not one bit. I clean the dishes for her, I take out the trash, I run errands that she doesn’t want to, I offer to treat her to movies in her down time, I take up no fridge space, barely any floor space, and thank her every day. And still I feel like a burden.

You know, nobody knows everything about me. For as simple as I think I am, I’m wrong, because I make everything complicated. I keep things from everyone. But here’s a little news for everyone out there to know, if any of you think that you’re a burden on me by being my friend, that’s not even half of the burden I feel like whenever I ask anyone for anything. I don’t make decisions because I don’t want people unhappy, I don’t like talking anymore because I don’t want to hurt people or bother them, I just want people to like me…not because I want to be liked…but because I don’t want to be hated.

It’s another night in the city, the road I thought was getting easier, but it’s getting far harder. Hopefully I’ll find some peace in the next few days…or I don’t know what’s going to happen.