Back

I'm back. The daily grind has been more hectic than anything else.

Two Fridays ago, I wrote my last exam ever, I think. I hope I don't do something crazy and actually enrol in any more courses next year. I was excited to take all of these courses but I have to say that I have been disappointed by the level of teaching at this university. Two of the five courses have been enjoyable. That is to say, stimulating and challenging and rewarding. Three have been stressful for no reason other than the professor was a tyrannical grumpus. Oh, it's just occurring to me that I have enjoyed the courses taught by female professors but not by male professors. Hmm...

I am supposed to be starting on my thesis proposal but I just can't seem to motivate myself. The weather has turned all nice and sunny. I'm appreciative of this. Normally I would wish it to be cold and grey and rainy but I'm enjoying the heat and the light. Damn this province. I need to get away from here quickly. I was sick when I wrote that exam and the cough won't go away. I've been taking cough syrup with codeine but I think that that one little teaspoon taken at night makes me groggy and lethargic for 24 hours. I didn't take it last night but I did sleep a lot today. I also got my period two weeks early. Just after B left, there was a clot of very red blood, about the size of a my fingernail. I don't want to think about what it might have been. I have been very unproductive for over a week now.

I have a week left to do my taxes. I hate taxes. I am having dim sum tomorrow morning so that may motivate me to come home and be productive. It's unlikely but you never know. I suppose I could always nap away the afternoon.

Monday afternoon I am driving X's parents home from the hospital. X's dad will be having his second radiation treatment. I have never seen anyone after a radiation treatment and I'm worried how he will look and feel and my reaction to that and also whether or not he will be uncomfortable squashed into my small car. Perhaps that is trivial but there will be the usual QEW traffic so the drive home could be an hour if not more, even though the distance is a scant 25 km or less.

Tuesday I think I will go into the office to check out my new cubicle. I'm very excited about this even though I only plan to be in the office one day a week, if that. If it's a window, I might consider going in on weekends. Too bad the office is so far away. Rather, too bad gas is so damn expensive. Anyway, I'll deal with that later.

I'm going to the Bahamas again in 25 days. B's best friend is getting married and they invited me to the wedding. B said that this was an important enough event that he wants me to be there so he paid for the flight and I'll pay him back when I get down there. I'm excited and nervous and distracted. I'm looking forward to it, I think.

He was very good to me while he was here. He bought me a ring and a new pair of Skechers and paid for groceries for the party and bought me my new shiny Brita filter. He took me out to breakfast and lunch and dinner. He cuddled and caressed and cooked. He stayed out of my way when I was studying and quietly let me sleep in. And I was a complete and total raving bitch. I was sleep-deprived and stressed and awful to him. I was anxious to be gone when I dropped him off at the airport so that I could finish my paper and start studying. I was happy to have my bed back with my clean 983742 thread count sheets and all my pillows to myself. I eradicated all traces of boy from the apartment the weekend after he left. Perhaps I don't deserve him.

Things have been a bit rough with us. I guess I'll be honest here because it's my blog and because nobody is reading it. I'm not sure if I can go through with this. I want to but I'm not sure if I love him. I have told him that I do. I know, it's an awful thing to confess. But he wanted to hear it, he needed to hear it, so I said it. But I don't even know what it means to love anymore. And I'm beginning to think that I never knew what it meant. I think about X sometimes and I wonder if we loved each other. Sometimes I still cry when I think about him and I regret what happened. I miss him. I know now that I pushed him away and everything fell apart because he didn't have the strength or the desire to resist. Perhaps it was the right decision but I'm not sure if I will ever be convinced of that and I don't think that I will ever get over it.

I think about my Valentine and how I almost believed that he was strong enough to be my man. But he wasn't. He left like all the rest. When I pushed him away. After weeks and months of being a terrible person. I miss him too. The way he always knew how to make me laugh. The way that he would call me on it when I was full of shit. The way that he wanted to be good at salsa dancing so that he could show me off and show off to me. The way that he said, "come on, you can talk to me."

And I push B away. Hard. And often. I can't figure out if I'm sabotaging this, as I do with everything. Or maybe in my soul I don't feel that this is right and that's why I push him away. I argue with him over trivial matters. Sometimes it even seems trivial at the time but I can't let it go. The way that he communicates. The insensitive things that he says. And I'm unable to distinguish the things that trigger my emotions and separate out what is rational and logical from the irrational and emotional. It's unfair to him but I don't know how to change my responses and my reactions.

I know that I push. I push hard and I'm not a nice person. So far he has said that he wants to work on it, that he knows that it won't be easy, that he won't let me go, that I'm stuck with him. Is that what I want? What I need? Am I that kind of woman? I think so. I want him to hold on and not let go while I push and struggle and scream and cry. I want him to break through to the other side. I need him to prove to me that this is what he really wants. And that's the only way I think I will believe that he's sincere.

I know, it's a terrible thing. I don't know what happened in my past to make me this person. I want to be a different person. I want to be nice and sweet and sensitive and caring and generous. I want to love myself the way that he clearly loves me but I don't know how. I wonder, until I can love myself, how can I love anyone else? And I think, how can I expect anyone else to love me, if I can't love myself? Is this the ultimate vicious cycle?