I have nothing to blog about today.

But I need to write.

I'm so lonely.

After seminar class, a bunch of us went to the campus pub. They had appies for $3 after 9 pm so we shared a few pitchers and some food and just sat and talked and watched the crazy MBA students get all drunk and stupid.

The entire time I was sitting there, I was lonely. I wanted to leave and come home and talk to someone or be cuddled or something. I don't know. I mean, I was having a good time but all the while very conscious that one of the couples was holding hands at our table. Also very conscious that, this time next week, B will be here.

Today was a relatively good day. I went to yoga class, met with my supervisor, did some research, attempted to bake scones (which ended up crappy but that's okay) and enjoyed my class. But I'm still a bit sad. I guess I'm just sad that I'm lonely. I miss.... something. I don't know what yet.

I hope that the mysterious guy calls me when he gets back into town tomorrow but I'm also half expecting that he won't because I know he'll be tired. And I'll probably end up going over to a friend's house in the evening, even though I don't want to. At least I'm spending the first part of the day with Piglet and her mom. That is something to look forward to at least. And I have to buy groceries to make cupcakes for Saturday. My supervisor, the normal one, is having an end of summer picnic. I'm dreading it a bit but who knows, I might actually have a good time.

Also, I smoked too much today. It's my crutch. I hate it but, as one of my classmates said this evening, "smoking is so wonderful". We toasted that.

Well, fuck.

Today started out good. Great. Lovely. Dreamy. I will not blog about it because I will probably re-read this entry in a couple of months and want to fucking kill myself.

The rest of today was pretty shit. My computer, my baby, my companion, my entertainment, died today. I was really hoping it was the power supply but the tech guy at Canada Computers thinks it's the motherboard. That means that it will take at least two weeks and $60 to fix. I really hope the damn thing is still under warranty and that Asus' RMA process (or whatever the fuck it's called) doesn't screw me over and/or take a bajillion weeks. I miss my music and my bookmarks and my hot keys. At least the tech guy gave me a $10 discount because I have boobs. At least, I think that was the reason for the discount. He said "I'm only gonna charge you $50 instead of $60 because... (pregnant pause)... if I charged you $60 it would be $70 with tax." Yeah, that's what I thought.

Fortunately, I have a laptop courtesy of work. I have some misgivings about using it for such personal uses as blogging anonymously but I am so frigging cold and lonely and miserable right now I don't really give a flying fuck.

I also think I am starting to get sick. I should really not have started smoking again this week but this break thing is harder than I thought it would be. I mean, overall it is a relief not to deal with B's peculiar brand of drama and crap but I am lonely. I just have to keep reminding myself I would be just as lonely (or marginally less so) if we were still on speaking terms because I likely would either be waiting for him to call or in the midst of some energy-sucking, mind-warping, bring-me-down-like-my-mother-on-hormones, negative conversation.

It's time to go to bed.

Letter to B

I came so close to breaking down and calling you today. I thought I had tentative plans for this evening but it turns out I misunderstood. They fell through and I took it badly. Very badly. In the end, I had to get out of the house. I went over to the empty house and checked the mail. Fortunately, the girl with the painted pink dress wasn't there so I watched two episodes of Friends. Laughing does make me feel better. Then I sat on the front step, smoked a cigarette in the dark and came home. I told myself before I left there that I would force myself to watch a movie when I got home. When I was sitting on the front step, I decided on Love Actually. Jamie and Aurelia do make me feel better.

But before I left to go over to the empty house, I looked for you online. You were on Skype. I almost contacted you but something in my brain clicked over and I didn't. Perhaps the thought of how humiliating the conversation would have been if I was crying. I didn't want you to think I was begging for you to take me back. I'm not, but my heart does feel like it's hardening over. Not breaking; that would be too cliche.

Or maybe it was the thought of how much worse I would feel if I tried to call you and you didn't answer. You would know that I had tried and be gratified that I broke down. And I wouldn't have had the comfort of hearing your voice.

At one point in the movie, Carl tells Sarah that she is beautiful. And I heard echoes of your voice saying the same to me. I cried and cried and it felt awful. I never want to feel like this again. I don't know if I miss you or if I miss having someone to reach out and hold onto. The thing is, there have been so few times in the past couple of months that, when I reached out, I found something to hold. That feeling, of having an illusion shattered, the disappointment of believing and being proven wrong, I think, is even worse than knowing that I am really and truly alone.

Although I can and do take care of myself, although I know that I don't need anyone for anything, often I feel as though a significant part of me is missing. Like the other half of a twin should be right there within reach but is always somehow just out of my grasp.

Will I ever find what I am looking for? The more I ask myself that question, the less likely I think that I will find it in you.

Reach out and touch someone

The nights are hardest for me. I feel so alone and lonely and paralyzed that I don't know what to do with myself. I wish I could study but I can't. I feel too guilty about not studying to watch a movie or read a book. So I force myself to sit at my desk and stare at the monitor while the minutes just tick away into nothing.

Sometimes, like now, I remember to blog. I remember that sometimes just getting the words out of my head and onto the page makes me feel better. Writing is therapy. But I would rather be getting ready for bed with someone else right now. Sharing the bathroom, turning out the lights, getting under the covers and cuddling with someone warmer than me. It's not about sex or needing a man. It's just about having someone around to take the edge off and remind me that I am human. I have found that one of the hardest things about living alone is the lack of physical contact with other living creatures. Maybe if I had a cat or a dog, I wouldn't feel it quite as intensely.

Sometimes when I get an unexpected hug or just a quick touch on the arm, it feels like a jolt of electricity. After days of not touching another person, my nerves are so on edge that it's as though they're trying to crawl off my body. My finger tips tingle with this strange sensory deprivation. The slightest touch takes on a magnitude that is almost indescribable. Perhaps that's why I am drawn to my friends' pets. They don't require any sort of complex body language or physical space interpretation that humans do. I can just scratch their ears and follow them around looking for a cuddle without humiliating myself.

I really need a hug right now.

Pointless rambling

I don't really have anything new to add tonight. Seminar class was interesting.

I lost my train of thought. A childhood friend who just moved to Kentucky called on Skype. I'm glad I don't live in Kentucky. She's doing her post-doc. I just hope she doesn't end up staying down there. Not that I've ever been to Kentucky.

I'm tired. The neighbours were having rabbit sex again this morning. I officially hate them. I should just go to bed right now.

A group of us went for a drink after class and that was fun. I shouldn't have had a real drink though. Now I can't function.

B is online. I had to email him because I realized today that I can't pick him up from the airport. I'll be in class. He hasn't responded to the email. And the mysterious guy is at a TIFF event tonight schmoozing with celebs. I drunk texted him when I got home. Damn, I'm such a cheap date. Now I feel shitty about myself.

Definitely it is time to go to bed.