Day Thirty-Six

May 8, 2006,

Dear Lunch Buddy

Several months ago, I began to think I was losing my mind. I found myself surging between emotions like flipping through channels on the cable box. I could be laughing to myself about something funny I remembered, only to find myself weeping moments later. Looking at myself in the mirror always seemed like looking at some stranger — some woman who can’t seem to get it together, and whose eyes are so much older than the rest of her body.

I’m coming to some revelations regarding this subject — things which I will discuss in a future entry, because I don’t have the energy tonight. But I’m learning.

This has been a strange day for me. I woke up with considerable anxiety. I do that a lot lately, when I don’t work. My finances have me very tense, lately, especially with Roommate being a flake. I was angry and frustrated with you Saturday night. I had said goodnight and closed with the usual “xoxo,” before logging out of EQ. You didn’t reply. I gave you a few moments, but you didn’t reply. I was so angry because I felt like you had withdrawn even that from me.

But today you came by to drop off a disk. As soon as you were here, I knew that nothing had change between us. You love me as much as you ever did and have trouble controlling yourself. And I love you so much that tears press outward from within because I cannot contain the emotion I have for you. We held hands and talked about nothing in particular. We laid on my bed, trying to get Sweetness to come out from under it and be social, and we held and touched each other and even kissed a while. We did not make love, but it was not for not wanting it mutually. When I told you that I loved you, your face melted like you’d been needing to hear that for so very long. And you told me you love me too.

I don’t know what goes on in your house, but I know that you need me and you miss me and what I give to you. I wish you would stand up for yourself for once in your life, and take what you want. Reach for something for yourself for a change.

There are those who read my letters to you who occasionally leave me notes of encouragement. Sometimes they leave advice. Sometimes they tell me I’m a fool for not realizing that whatever we wanted to call it, I was just the “mistress” and deserved nothing better than what I got. I can only say that I am not a stupid woman. I am very intelligent, very insightful, and very self-aware. I know that I chose to overlook things through the course of our relationship, because the rewards of staying in the relationship greatly outweighed the deficits. But despite my occasional rants and rages, there is no part of me that doubts you. I know you. I really know you. I may not know what exactly is going on now, but I know that I can look into your eyes and know you. They don’t know us, so they must only infer and presume.

I considered blocking them from posting to my diary. I considered changing the settings so that no one could leave notes. But there is no point in that. I will simply say that they cannot speak to what they have not experienced, and I would appreciate it very much if they would not presume to think that they know more about our relationship that we do.

Missing you as I do nightly,