09.30.05 - 1:11 a.m.

and wow. here i am actively engaged in the one thing i was trying to avoid.

this. the things that we dont mean, because we dont have time to say what we mean...so what we dont mean comes out and it is brittle and untrue and course--it sounds like nails on blackboards, the words i speak to him.

and he asks me if im mad at him and all i can think of saying is no, because my shit is not his fault.

and, again, it makes me wonder why people enter into relationships with people of the opposite sex.

and here i am, drunk again. and the whole thing is just ridiculous. and i have the feeling that things are supposed to be easy in the beginning.

and he told me that our band is where is heart is. and i have no bullshit meter, still. and the whole thing is fucking so stupid that i feel weird even talking about it.

but mostly i feel terrible because i am not in control, and i hate that feeling more than anything in the world, and it makes me just want to back out of the whole thing altogehter.

fuck the music, and fuck all of that. fuck all of his bullshit words, and fuch the breeze from the deep south that i miss so much and that brought me back here--to him.

fuck all of that.

fuck tennesssee and alabama and whiskey and trains and heartbreak and all of the things that felt so goddamn welcoming to talk about. fuck all of that.

and i know what i am doing. i am waiting for him to want me enough...waiting for him to want me too much. Enough to make up for what i want from him, in addition to what i refuse to offer from here on out.

and al had really practical advice, that practical people give to people they also think are practical. But it would force me to say things that i dont entirely mean, like "i was drunk and was confusing things for other things that they are not." Mostly i hate that i have to apologize for being the whacked out girl that i am.

and the whole thing is absurd. And there, on the corner of sixteenth and monroe, alison is giving me the type of advice that good people with good intentions give other people with good intentions.

but i dont think i am that person. i want him to love me, and i know that is fucked up, and i know i am saying and doing things that are ridiculous, but i cant seem to help anyting that im saying to him.

and im getting drunk and drunk and drunk while he is living his life. and he calls like he is supposed to, but by the time he does i am so drunk that to see him would be worse off, and besides, i--irrationally--wanted to punish him for not loving me in the immediate/ drop everything way that i needed him to love me in.

and this makes me think. who in the hell? who in the HELL will be able to fix me. Or, more importantly, when will i fix myself.

but i dont want to lose the band. thats the thing. harmonizing, everything coming together.

all the stuff i made him feel bad about. telling him i felt like our band was the ugly stepsister, and he had to apologize, and he had to tell me that our band was the one that was in his heart, and the whole thing was so absurd that i couldnt believe i was actually part of...and even worse, that i had started it.

i shouldnt be let out of the house.

maybe i should just suck it up and get therapy.

and it was like when youre drunk and people keep saying "are you drunk?" and its the most terrible thing in the world, like going to take your spanish exam and finding its in french.

he didnt know the rules that i had suddenly entirely subverted...and, of course, i cant blame him.

here i am with the voice that men understand...and i wanted nothing more than to not have that voice. but, even worse, that he recognized the voice in the first place. But, in all truth, i would have been pissed if he didnt sense a thing. But he had a crazy ex girlfriend in the past, so im sure he recognizes all of the same shit.

and i didnt want to be like this anymore.

and everything al was saying was so true and so right and so impossible.

i mean, if i could see things in the absolutely cut and dry responsible way that she sees things, then i would know what to do.

but as it is, i think i will just not call him, and think that if he gets into this then it is his own damn fault.

and i know i said so much whacked out shit. Shit that i didnt even know was there...hiding. We shouldnt be allowed to use the phone when we are at our most terrible and real selves. The world requires a certain false decorum and i know that. I work with it everyday. Everything that i said was terrible. So much so that i want to apologize to him in advance.

And part of me is already mad that he isnt throwing rocks at my window ready to fall into the same bullshit that im already in. i dont know how i got like this.

i just dont know.

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