So…last night.
I went to geology, made small talk with my lab partner. Went home, ate some three-day-old pasta. Stared off into my laptop screen.
So Christen called and asked if I wanted to go to the club. I didn’t have any money, but I really wanted to get out, shake off all this dread and guilt.
Brian said he’d pay for us, so I drive over to his house and Christen picked us both up.
We ended up getting there very late (like 1 a.m., the place closes at two). Christen is dressed hella cute in her stillettos and this amazing bodice thing, and Brian is his stylish self as we’re joking down 21st to get money. We pay, get the third degree from the bouncer, and head out onto the dance floor.
The club is always depressing to me, and just as we were starting to slide into the crowd of humping half-naked Latinos, a face jumps out from the crowd.
Terry.
I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me…so I leaned over and told Christen and Brian. They looked, and he was gone. I thought I must have imagined the whole thing, but the image of his face was fresh in my mind. Sure enough, he IMed me on my phone in twenty minutes or so.
He had left crying…I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to go over and give him a hug…but I knew that would be horribly inappropriate. I just wish there was something I could do. But there isn’t.
He sends me hackneyed pop songs when I try to IM him. So I don’t know what to do.
Must stop listening to Nails.
Brian and I agree: once The Fragile starts “making sense” you are slipping into deep depression. Luckily I’m more into the instrumental tracks from And All That Could Have Been and some of the best of The Downward Spiral.
They’re playing the gayest music here at True Love so I have to listen to something to cancel it out.
It’s like…this mix between adult alternative (that insufferable pseudo-country “Calling all Angels” song and its ilk) and now it’s death metal.
So we left 20 minutes before the club got over. Christen got pulled over for a busted headlight (but we were FREAKING because….umm….her insurance status was possibly, shall we say, invalid.
I drove back over to her house from Brian’s…and I have to say that was one of the longest, coldest drives in a long time. The Tower Bridge is shut down so it takes FUCKING FOREVER to get to West Sac.
I was IMing Terry through the night, but my damn phone signed me off and I had to drive for a good hour. Even in the middle of the night it now takes an hour to get to West Sac. It sucks.
I just cannot get used to a world without Terry.
Every time my phone chirps, I look at his icon on my faves, and it’s not a text from him. I don’t know what to do after work any more…I want to see him, but I know that we aren’t meant to be. And that it’s not fair to him to want to hang out.
Mario keeps texting and IMing me…but for the most part, I’ve been ignoring him. Maybe I won’t in the future, but I just can’t talk to him. I am at fault for what happened too, but he instigated it much more than I ever thought he would. Moving the TV into his bedroom and all that bullshit.
He expects me to date him? The audacity.
I’m too hurt right now to feel much of anything.
Drew keeps signing on and off today. I haven’t talked to him in ages. My AIM buddy list keeps getting bigger and bigger…a museum of exes.
Well, Christen just arrived at TL, I should go.
I’m thinking of you. I keep wanting to give you advice but hold off because nothing I could say in the way of comforting would be right. I’m thinking of how we went to San Francisco FOUR years ago this month. And how a year ago you came up with A. If nothing else right now, just get through math.