Day Thirty-Seven

May 9, 2006

Dear Lunch Buddy,

I have noticed that the process by which I have been experiencing the loss of Us has followed quite closely the infamous "five stages of grief." The first is Denial and Isolation, which was evident in my refusal to believe that you could be leaving me and my need to barricade myself in my room and hide from the world in general. The second, according to the lists I have found, is anger, followed by bargaining. I think I did those two in opposite order, or perhaps even concurrently. I think my prayer rituals and fasting were my bargaining, because I don’t really believe that God interferes in people’s lives in the way that those who pray for intervention believe God does. Instead, I was making deals with myself, and hoping, however crazily, that I could magically change your mind. Anger seems to weave its way throughout all of this. I’m angry about many different facets, but mostly I think I’m angry with myself.

Depression and acceptance are the last two stages, but I think I was depressed throughout — just as I have been angry throughout. And while there are parts of me that still cling to that thread of hope, and parts of me that still refuse to believe that you’ve made up your mind, I think I have come to a point of acceptance. My sobbing spells have passed. I don’t feel quite so hopeless. I don’t feel those waves of panic that make me feel like all of my insides have turned to liquid and are trying to force themselves, white-hot, through every pore in my body.

Yesterday, while researching anxiety meds, I came across an article that stated that post-break-up depression is prolonged by elements of humiliation. It stated that those who felt humiliated by their breaks, tended to remain depressed for about a month. Humiliation is one emotion that I have felt but haven’t written much about. I’ve felt humiliated in knowing that She must feel quite smug that you have abandoned me for her. I’ve felt humiliated in knowing that the guys at Treehouse, Fuckface specifically, are probably patting themselves on the back and congratulating themselves in their correctness about the fate of our relationship. After all, Fuckface had proclaimed it doomed back when MoM was formed.

As long as we’re discussing humiliation, there is something I’ve wanted off my chest for a very long time. There was a gamenight early on in my days of living at Treehouse, in which you had come over early and we were laying on my bed watching television. I had begun subtle teasing, intending, of course, to have you naked making love to me in a few moments. Fuckface knocked on the door and told us that She was at the front door. You went out front to go speak with her, and I stayed in my room trembling from head to toe, not knowing why she was at the house or what was going on. You came back for a few seconds to get your shoes and tell me that you’d be back in a while, and you had Her trailing right behind you. She looked into my bedroom and waved at me, as I sat there bewildered trying to figure out what could possibly be going on.

When you returned, you explained that your mother-in-law wanted to buy a computer for your son, and that you had gone to give advice on the purchase. I assumed that She had come over to insist that you go along, and that you had done so to keep the peace. But when you told me the story of how your M-i-L had been irritated with you for offering unsolicited advice, I realized that you had gone because you like to be right and wanted to stick your nose in where it wasn’t really welcome.

While I understand you well enough to know that you truly felt the need to go, I was humiliated by the fact that you and I had been in bed together, and your wife had come to collect you. You left my bed to leave with another woman and you didn’t have to. Fuckface witnessed this. As did your wife. I felt completely irrelevant … like I was just some video game that you could pause until you were ready to return to it.

At the time, I told you I’d get over it. If you and I ever do end up together forever, I will be over it, because none of those things will matter, and you could spend the rest of your life demonstrating to me that I am relevant. But it still hurts me, now.

I have a doctor appointment tomorrow. I have been having anxiety off and on for some time, and have been considering taking medication. I haven’t decided if I will. But to be honest, since that night that we smoked together, I can’t forget how good it felt to quiet the noise in my head for a while. I’ve hesitated in the alcohol isle at the store, and I’ve considered looking up the DNA manipulator to see if he would get me high.

That scares me a lot. First of all, it scares me that I would consider looking up DNA-boy just for kicks, knowing that his feelings could be hurt by that. But what scares me more than anything, is that I have actually considered mind-altering substances as a method for dealing with my stress and depression. With my family’s history of drug and alcohol abuse, that is terrifying for me. So I thought that if I could get something for the anxiety, that might help.

You called me twice, today. Is it my imagination, or are you reaching out to me again? You need me. I know you do. Come home, Lover. I promise, I can make everything all right.