I'm in a black hole today. It started at 1:45.
I received the following text from Narc:
Off the alcohol and the radar whilst continuing to write and get in shape for the shoot. Am seeing someone. Won't be able to see you for a while. Be well.
Okay, translation:
You, Hyde, are nothing but a bad habit--just like alcohol. I'm trying to be productive which means scrapping you, but when I feel like a fuck, I may give you a call. That's why I say "in a while." Oh, and just so you know--there are other girls out there who I actually respect. That's why I say I'm "seeing someone" whereas with you-- I would never throw you a crumb of compassion. That's because you're worth shit (as I like to tell you all the time when I drink).
I don't know, guys... Maybe I am just "alcohol" to him after all. I can't stand it though. I've been so depressed today. I spent the afternoon vomiting after I got his message and then went to therapy. After that I went to pick up some books from the library and bumped into both Hammer and B. On my way home, I stopped over at Cheers and downed three glasses of Jack. At least Mr. Daniels hasn't rejected me. I mean, c'mon Narc! I was with the man for eight months, and he wouldn't even go on a date with me. Now he's saying he's "seeing someone," so he has to be "faithful" to her and can't see me "for a while?" What the hell? How is he so committed so fast? I just fucked him last week!!!
I bet that he's not in a relationship. I bet that he's just had a few dates and fucked another girl (as indicated by his lovely Easter message to me, informing me that he "just got home" at 7:30 am). I don't know. I was sick and depressed all day and now I'm sick and drunk and depressed. I need to try to sober up before NextDoorNeighbor's dinner party. I invited Bezoukhoff who I haven't seen in quite a while.
I hate life
I hate Narc
I hate myself most of all
I hate all of this.
I try and try and try to make people happy--especially Narc, and all I get in return is degradation. I mean, for him, Hyde = Booze. That's not all that I am. How could he have held me last week and said "love me," and now this? He just doesn't care. He doesn't give a shit. I don't know why I even try...
I suppose that in the long run, it's for the best. I know I don't want him in my life, but it still hurts anyway. Where are all the nice guys out there? When will someone come along who actually sees me for who I am?
Sorry for the ramble. I'm just feeling outside of myself and outside of the world right now. I wish I could just pass out or something...
Maybe later... Maybe Mr. Daniels will be merciful tonight.
-hyde on whiskey-
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Wine and Cheers
Yesterday was a pretty good day for me, aside from the fact that I woke up drunk. After I left my office in the morning, I headed to my voice lesson and it actually went pretty well. Since I've been off my "medicine," my voice has been getting stronger and stronger and is almost back to the level of health I had a year ago or so. (I was suprised that my Stallion-injury didn't seem to cause too much of a problem for my cords.) It was a gorgeous day out yesterday which only made everything that much better!
Anyway, after my lesson, B gave me a call and we arranged to meet up for lunch. It was a really nice time. He was being so nurturing to me. I think he knows that I have been feeling extra sensitive since our encounter last Friday. I took the bus home from there and bumped into BulgarianGuy in the street. (This was around 3:00 or so). He was just getting off work (he works in a restaurant across the street) and asked me if I wanted to go shopping at H&M with him. Normally, I would have gone just because going shopping with BulgarianGuy is such a random and absurd thing to do, but I was exhausted and really wanted to jump in the shower. I still had grime under my fingernails from the night before. I also wanted to patch things up with IrishBird.
IrishBird always admires my nails and asks me about my manicures. I actually do them myself, and I always promise to manicure hers one of these days. Well, I felt really bad about having called her a "bitch" on Saturday night, even though I didn't remember doing it. She had especially admired the shade of nailpolish I'm wearing this week, so I ran to the drugstore and bought her a bottle as a "recociliation" gesture. On Wednesdays she works afternoons at Cheers, so I stopped by to give her the gift. She was really appreciative. I sat down and had some coffee with her and two of the girls who waitress at Cheers. I told her that I had spoken to WallStreet that morning. She told me that when she called me to check on me the night I was with him (last Wednesday) that we were in a cab together on our way home. She said that she even spoke to him on my cell phone, and that it was around 2:30 am. Weird... I was relieved, at least, that I didn't leave the second bar with some strange man.
Anyway, I didn't stay for that long, as I was exhausted and still aching to jump in the shower, so I headed home. Back at my place, I watched Dr. Phil, showered, dressed, and reapplied my makeup. I feel like a total dork for loving Dr. Phil, even though my interest in the show is waning a bit this season with all of his "Family First" stuff. I don't really have any interest in parenting issues, as I'm not a parent, and I liked it better when he stuck to relationship stuff. After that, I talked to GoldenFinch on the phone for a while (who informed me that her name is supposed to be "GoldFinch." Oh well...sucks for her! "GoldenFinch" it will have to be!) A little while later, my phone rang again. I didn't recognize the number, but I picked up anyway.
"Hello?"
"Hyde?"
"Yeah... Who is this?"
"It's Brady and Beckey from last night!"
"What?!?! I didn't think you guys would actually call me! What's up?"
"We're still out drinking! What are you doing?"
"But it's 4:00 in the afternoon. Don't you guys have jobs?"
"We called in sick. Wanna hang out?"
"Um, well, I can't right now. Maybe later tonight?"
"Will you be at Cheers?"
"Probably. Why don't you guys just give me a call later."
"Okay, bye."
Damn! Those people are even worse than I am!
Anyway, while I was getting ready for Anxious to come over, I spent a lot of time singing, trying to take advantage of the good vocal day. I kept performing arias in front of the mirror and getting really into it, acting all emotional. It was so much fun. Anxious came over at around 7:00. She brought the package of tobacco that she wanted to smoke ("for spite") and the rolling paper, all ready for me to teach her. It was really quite amusing. She didn't even know the basics, like how to hold a cigarette, how to ash (without switching hands) or that you have to inhale to keep the thing lit. We praticed on some regular Marlboros and then switched over to the home-rolled. We were laughing a lot about it because she was so nervous and stiff (and anxious!). I took her picture smoking them. I think she only took one or two real inhalations though--the rest of the time she just swished the smoke around in her mouth.
We were having a pretty good time. I played her some of the drunk Narc messages I have saved on my machine and we laughed about that. At around 8:30 we headed out to dinner at a nearby Italian restuarant. We shared half a carafe of wine and I ate pasta. It was a bad combination for me. I started to sugar crash and suffered through a headache for a while, but it passed after about half an hour. Today I'm going to try again to get off my self-destructive kick and eat a little better for myself. The way I've been flagrantly ignoring my prescribed diet has been making me really sluggish and depressed. We gossiped for a while about our mutual friends, etc. Then we headed over to Cheers. On the way there, we passed Druggie on the street, so I got to point him out to Anxious.
We took a table at Cheers away from the bar, so we could talk with more ease. It was a really quiet night there--not much going on. Anxious and I kept on gossiping about mutual friends. At one point she asked me if I had been in touch with her ex-boyfriend at all. (I met Anxious the year she started going out with him--eight or nine years ago. We had all been friends for a really long time, and they broke up this past summer. While I wanted to continue to be friends with him, we sort of drifted apart this fall and he got really sensitive and gave me a hard time about not returning his calls in December. You guys know how much shit I've been going through, and I really don't have the emotional space right now to deal with his neurosis and hyper-sensitivity.) But anyway, if you guys recall--back on February 19th when I was waiting for Narc outside the opera (waiting to be stood up, that is) I spoke to Liu on the phone. She's the one who told me that Anxious' ex was mad at me. Anxious' ex has always had a crush on Liu, and even though Liu moved to Colorado back in 2000 (and is now in Texas), he stayed friends with her and frequently talks to her on the phone. Anyway, in the course of telling Anxious why I was no longer speaking to her ex, I told her that Liu had told me that he was mad at me.
"Liu told you that? He speaks to Liu on the phone?"
(Uh oh...)
"Um, yeah... I mean, they're friends. They've been friends for years. You know that."
"Well, actually, no. He never mentioned to me that he's called her...ever! Why wouldn't he say something? Why was he trying to keep that from me?"
"I don't know, Anxious. It's not a big deal. You know that Liu has been with someone else for like over two years now. It's not like there was ever anything between then. Maybe he just didn't mention it because he felt guilty because you knew about his crush."
"Well, there's more to feel guilty about for keeping it from me. I mean, I'm not a jealous person... He can be friends with whomever he wants. It's just weird that he would hide it for all these years."
"I don't know..." I said. I felt really akward. "It's not a big deal. And besides, your thing with him is over now, so don't let it bother you."
We kind of changed the subject, but I felt bad because I didn't know if I had just betrayed some sort of secret and I didn't want Anxious to feel bad.
In any case, at one point IrishBird came over to say hi. She admired my earrings.
"You've got so much jewelry, Hyde! I love them! Where did you get these?"
"Thanks! B got them for me for my birthday, not this year but the year before. We got them at that Himalyan jewelry shop near St. Mark's where I got the earrings I gave you for your birthday."
"Are these real gold?"
"Yeah... Gold and Cherry quartz. Just like the ones I got you."
"What? The earrings you got me are gold? I thought they were fake! I don't own anything gold. I don't have any real jewelry at all, except this one pendant that PumpedUp got me when we were together..."
"I know you didn't realize it. I didn't want to tell you, either."
"But why? Why would you spend that kind of money on me?" she asked.
"Honestly, I don't know," I said. "I just was really grateful for your friendship in the fall and I wanted to do something nice. It was an impulse, I guess."
She was flabbergasted. I liked it. I love giving things to people and doing things for people and making them happy. I hate that I can't do that for Narc anymore.
The whole time I was there, I was only drinking wine. I think it's a good trick for me, because I didn't get drunk (despite the 10 glasses or so that I drank) and it made me really sleepy. However, I didn't find it nearly as satisfying as whiskey and I kind of felt like it' s a waste of calories if it's not going to at least give me a good buzz.
Anxious and I moved over to the bar and talked to two guys sitting on the end. They were friendly nice guys--not at all a "pick up" thing. IrishBird told me that WallStreet had just been in the bar asking her about that night. She told him what she told me-- that she had spoken to him when he was with me in the cab. He told her that it wasn't him in the cab with me, but rather, that it was his friend. Wait a minute! That's not what he told me earlier in the afternoon! When I spoke to him from my office, he told me that the 84th street bartender said that I left the bar with a stranger. WallStreet claimed not to have known where I had disappeared to. This whole thing is really fishy and is starting to leave me with a weird feeling.
So last night, IrishBird told WallStreet that I was at Cheers just sitting in the corner (I didn't see him at the bar). He said that he would talk to me some other time. I also think that that's weird--that he wouldn't come over and say hello after talking to me that very afternoon!
Cheers emptied out pretty early. Soon enough it was just me, Anxious, the two guys at the end of the bar and IrishBird and PumpedUp. IrishBird asked me to sing an aria.
"But I lost my opera karaoke CD the WallStreet guy night!" I said.
"Well, sing it without!"
"I don't like singing it without though. But I have the songs saved on my computer. Maybe I can go burn them onto a CD. I'll be right back!"
I ran back to my apartment and tried to burn them onto a CD. I couldn't find a blank CD though. My house is such a fucking mess. I had to go back to Cheers with no success.
"C'mon Hyde, just give us a note or two! Sing something without the orchestra."
"Well, okay..."
I sang them O Mio Babbino Caro and followed it with Quando m'en vo'." They all gave me rounds of applause. Just then, a guy walked into the bar--around my age, preppy, Indian (I think) and very drunk. He was babbling some sort of nonsense--totally incoherent. I can't even approximate his babble for you. He was just so far gone. I asked Anxious to sing the duet from Lakme with me.
"I love that song!" IrishBird exclaimed as we started. It was fun. The wasted guy was really annoying though, and started trying to sing along, some totally different melody and totally off key.
"Sorry, we're closed," PumpedUp told him. "We're not serving you here tonight."
Eventually the guy stumbled out.
"Who is that guy?" Anxious asked.
"C'mon... He's not so bad," I said. "That's me on every other night of the week!"
PumpedUp thought that was the funniest thing he ever heard. He started laughing so hard and repeated what I said to IrishBird. We went on joking a bit about my usual "wild" behavior. I felt better being able make light of the whole thing. I feel like it makes me seem more "sane" in their eyes that I can laugh at myself like that, and that I can acknowledge that I have a problem.
"Would you believe that I've known Hyde since she was an innocent?" Anxious asked.
"No!" IrishBird raised her eyebrows.
"Yes!" Anxious said. "I met Hyde when she was just 17 and before she had ever had a drink. She was a perfect angel!"
I smiled.
"She used to wear long flowing dresses and study so hard. She used to be embarassed if people spoke openly to her about sex and she was a straight A meticulous student."
"Hey-" I interrupted. "I'm still a straight A student! Just maybe not so meticulous."
"So what happened?" PumpedUp asked.
"I don't know..." I said. "My sophmore year? I guess I just cracked up."
He laughed.
Anxious and I headed out soon after. It was only about 1:00 am. I asked her if she wanted to crash at my place since it was so late, but she said she was okay driving back to Connecticut as long as she had some coffee. I walked her across the street to the deli and lent her $20 to get a cab back to where her car was parked.
On my way back to my apartment, I saw a man standing on my corner.
"Excuse me!" he called out. It was the wasted guy who had just been in Cheers!
"What's up?" I asked.
"Can I ask you a question?" (Wow! Complete sentences... A little more coherent than he had been a few minutes before!)
"What?"
"Do I seem scary to you? I mean, I just tried to walk a girl home and she treated me like a predator."
"Look," I told him. "You seem like a really nice guy. It's just that you seem like a really drunk guy. Most girls are pretty cautious about that. I mean, when someone's drunk, they're hard to read. You could be the nicest guy and then turn and do something irrational. She was probably just being careful, that's all."
"Thanks. You're really nice," he said.
We stood there and chatted for a few minutes. I told him that I graduated Columbia.
"I have so many friends from Columbia!" he said. "SIPA people though. SIPA people. I know a lot of SIPA people." (SIPA is the school of international affairs.)
"Where do you work?" I asked.
"For Deutsches Bank," he told me. "But I'm dating a girl from Columbia. I'm too old and she's too young. She's too young."
"How old is she?" I asked.
"21."
"That's not so young. How old are you? You don't look that old."
"I am old! I am old!" he said. "A lot older than you."
"I don't think so. What are you? 27? 28?"
"27," he said. "And you?"
"26. I don't think either of us is old at all. Why do you think you're old? Did your girlfriend tell you that?"
He kept licking his lips.
"Cotton mouth?" I asked.
"Don't think I'm licking my lips to be creepy to you!" he said.
"No, I don't. Trust me, I've been there. Coke-night?"
His eyes widened.
"How did you know? I'm so bad. I'm so bad. I've only done it a few times in my life. And I smoked marijuana once."
"Don't worry about it," I said. "Trust me, I'm not judgemental about such things. I used to use myself, but I've been off for a few months."
"Cool. What's your 'man' situation?" he asked.
"Oh, God... That's a tough one. Basically, I got involved in a one-night-stand that developed into an 'eight-month-stand' and I'm trying to get over it now."
"Oh my god! I have to talk to you about this stuff!" he said. "I live right over there." He pointed north a block. "We're neighbors. We should be friends. Wanna come over?"
"Well, I can't tonight. I really have to head home and get some work done. Maybe some other time?"
We exchanged numbers and I headed home. I don' t know why I gave some drunk and high guy standing on my street corner my phone number, but I wasn't drunk when I did it, so I guess I just have plain old shitty judgement in general.
Back at my place, I didn't really want to go to bed, despite being really tired. I called Narc and left him a message.
"Hey Narc, it's Hyde. I know I drunk texted you last night and I really shouldn't have. I guess I wanted to apoligize for that. I don't know... I'm going to try to stop calling you or contacting you, you know? But you know me... Anyway, it's about 2:00 am and I'm home. Just can't sleep. Thought you might be up and that maybe we could talk or something. Guess not. Anyway... Hope everything's good with you and that you're having fun and happy and all that. Talk to you soon... Well, maybe not soon, but talk to you whenever... Um... ok. Bye."
I'm embarassed about it. Contemplated not telling you guys about that one. How fucking pathetic am I? And I can't even use the excuse of being drunk! Soon after that, I feel asleep.
Today I'm heading to the library to make it a work day. NextDoorNeighbor invited me over for dinner with him and some girl that he's dating (not VJ though). It should be interesting to say the least.
That's it for now. Hope you're all well out in blogland!
lol,
Hyde
Anyway, after my lesson, B gave me a call and we arranged to meet up for lunch. It was a really nice time. He was being so nurturing to me. I think he knows that I have been feeling extra sensitive since our encounter last Friday. I took the bus home from there and bumped into BulgarianGuy in the street. (This was around 3:00 or so). He was just getting off work (he works in a restaurant across the street) and asked me if I wanted to go shopping at H&M with him. Normally, I would have gone just because going shopping with BulgarianGuy is such a random and absurd thing to do, but I was exhausted and really wanted to jump in the shower. I still had grime under my fingernails from the night before. I also wanted to patch things up with IrishBird.
IrishBird always admires my nails and asks me about my manicures. I actually do them myself, and I always promise to manicure hers one of these days. Well, I felt really bad about having called her a "bitch" on Saturday night, even though I didn't remember doing it. She had especially admired the shade of nailpolish I'm wearing this week, so I ran to the drugstore and bought her a bottle as a "recociliation" gesture. On Wednesdays she works afternoons at Cheers, so I stopped by to give her the gift. She was really appreciative. I sat down and had some coffee with her and two of the girls who waitress at Cheers. I told her that I had spoken to WallStreet that morning. She told me that when she called me to check on me the night I was with him (last Wednesday) that we were in a cab together on our way home. She said that she even spoke to him on my cell phone, and that it was around 2:30 am. Weird... I was relieved, at least, that I didn't leave the second bar with some strange man.
Anyway, I didn't stay for that long, as I was exhausted and still aching to jump in the shower, so I headed home. Back at my place, I watched Dr. Phil, showered, dressed, and reapplied my makeup. I feel like a total dork for loving Dr. Phil, even though my interest in the show is waning a bit this season with all of his "Family First" stuff. I don't really have any interest in parenting issues, as I'm not a parent, and I liked it better when he stuck to relationship stuff. After that, I talked to GoldenFinch on the phone for a while (who informed me that her name is supposed to be "GoldFinch." Oh well...sucks for her! "GoldenFinch" it will have to be!) A little while later, my phone rang again. I didn't recognize the number, but I picked up anyway.
"Hello?"
"Hyde?"
"Yeah... Who is this?"
"It's Brady and Beckey from last night!"
"What?!?! I didn't think you guys would actually call me! What's up?"
"We're still out drinking! What are you doing?"
"But it's 4:00 in the afternoon. Don't you guys have jobs?"
"We called in sick. Wanna hang out?"
"Um, well, I can't right now. Maybe later tonight?"
"Will you be at Cheers?"
"Probably. Why don't you guys just give me a call later."
"Okay, bye."
Damn! Those people are even worse than I am!
Anyway, while I was getting ready for Anxious to come over, I spent a lot of time singing, trying to take advantage of the good vocal day. I kept performing arias in front of the mirror and getting really into it, acting all emotional. It was so much fun. Anxious came over at around 7:00. She brought the package of tobacco that she wanted to smoke ("for spite") and the rolling paper, all ready for me to teach her. It was really quite amusing. She didn't even know the basics, like how to hold a cigarette, how to ash (without switching hands) or that you have to inhale to keep the thing lit. We praticed on some regular Marlboros and then switched over to the home-rolled. We were laughing a lot about it because she was so nervous and stiff (and anxious!). I took her picture smoking them. I think she only took one or two real inhalations though--the rest of the time she just swished the smoke around in her mouth.
We were having a pretty good time. I played her some of the drunk Narc messages I have saved on my machine and we laughed about that. At around 8:30 we headed out to dinner at a nearby Italian restuarant. We shared half a carafe of wine and I ate pasta. It was a bad combination for me. I started to sugar crash and suffered through a headache for a while, but it passed after about half an hour. Today I'm going to try again to get off my self-destructive kick and eat a little better for myself. The way I've been flagrantly ignoring my prescribed diet has been making me really sluggish and depressed. We gossiped for a while about our mutual friends, etc. Then we headed over to Cheers. On the way there, we passed Druggie on the street, so I got to point him out to Anxious.
We took a table at Cheers away from the bar, so we could talk with more ease. It was a really quiet night there--not much going on. Anxious and I kept on gossiping about mutual friends. At one point she asked me if I had been in touch with her ex-boyfriend at all. (I met Anxious the year she started going out with him--eight or nine years ago. We had all been friends for a really long time, and they broke up this past summer. While I wanted to continue to be friends with him, we sort of drifted apart this fall and he got really sensitive and gave me a hard time about not returning his calls in December. You guys know how much shit I've been going through, and I really don't have the emotional space right now to deal with his neurosis and hyper-sensitivity.) But anyway, if you guys recall--back on February 19th when I was waiting for Narc outside the opera (waiting to be stood up, that is) I spoke to Liu on the phone. She's the one who told me that Anxious' ex was mad at me. Anxious' ex has always had a crush on Liu, and even though Liu moved to Colorado back in 2000 (and is now in Texas), he stayed friends with her and frequently talks to her on the phone. Anyway, in the course of telling Anxious why I was no longer speaking to her ex, I told her that Liu had told me that he was mad at me.
"Liu told you that? He speaks to Liu on the phone?"
(Uh oh...)
"Um, yeah... I mean, they're friends. They've been friends for years. You know that."
"Well, actually, no. He never mentioned to me that he's called her...ever! Why wouldn't he say something? Why was he trying to keep that from me?"
"I don't know, Anxious. It's not a big deal. You know that Liu has been with someone else for like over two years now. It's not like there was ever anything between then. Maybe he just didn't mention it because he felt guilty because you knew about his crush."
"Well, there's more to feel guilty about for keeping it from me. I mean, I'm not a jealous person... He can be friends with whomever he wants. It's just weird that he would hide it for all these years."
"I don't know..." I said. I felt really akward. "It's not a big deal. And besides, your thing with him is over now, so don't let it bother you."
We kind of changed the subject, but I felt bad because I didn't know if I had just betrayed some sort of secret and I didn't want Anxious to feel bad.
In any case, at one point IrishBird came over to say hi. She admired my earrings.
"You've got so much jewelry, Hyde! I love them! Where did you get these?"
"Thanks! B got them for me for my birthday, not this year but the year before. We got them at that Himalyan jewelry shop near St. Mark's where I got the earrings I gave you for your birthday."
"Are these real gold?"
"Yeah... Gold and Cherry quartz. Just like the ones I got you."
"What? The earrings you got me are gold? I thought they were fake! I don't own anything gold. I don't have any real jewelry at all, except this one pendant that PumpedUp got me when we were together..."
"I know you didn't realize it. I didn't want to tell you, either."
"But why? Why would you spend that kind of money on me?" she asked.
"Honestly, I don't know," I said. "I just was really grateful for your friendship in the fall and I wanted to do something nice. It was an impulse, I guess."
She was flabbergasted. I liked it. I love giving things to people and doing things for people and making them happy. I hate that I can't do that for Narc anymore.
The whole time I was there, I was only drinking wine. I think it's a good trick for me, because I didn't get drunk (despite the 10 glasses or so that I drank) and it made me really sleepy. However, I didn't find it nearly as satisfying as whiskey and I kind of felt like it' s a waste of calories if it's not going to at least give me a good buzz.
Anxious and I moved over to the bar and talked to two guys sitting on the end. They were friendly nice guys--not at all a "pick up" thing. IrishBird told me that WallStreet had just been in the bar asking her about that night. She told him what she told me-- that she had spoken to him when he was with me in the cab. He told her that it wasn't him in the cab with me, but rather, that it was his friend. Wait a minute! That's not what he told me earlier in the afternoon! When I spoke to him from my office, he told me that the 84th street bartender said that I left the bar with a stranger. WallStreet claimed not to have known where I had disappeared to. This whole thing is really fishy and is starting to leave me with a weird feeling.
So last night, IrishBird told WallStreet that I was at Cheers just sitting in the corner (I didn't see him at the bar). He said that he would talk to me some other time. I also think that that's weird--that he wouldn't come over and say hello after talking to me that very afternoon!
Cheers emptied out pretty early. Soon enough it was just me, Anxious, the two guys at the end of the bar and IrishBird and PumpedUp. IrishBird asked me to sing an aria.
"But I lost my opera karaoke CD the WallStreet guy night!" I said.
"Well, sing it without!"
"I don't like singing it without though. But I have the songs saved on my computer. Maybe I can go burn them onto a CD. I'll be right back!"
I ran back to my apartment and tried to burn them onto a CD. I couldn't find a blank CD though. My house is such a fucking mess. I had to go back to Cheers with no success.
"C'mon Hyde, just give us a note or two! Sing something without the orchestra."
"Well, okay..."
I sang them O Mio Babbino Caro and followed it with Quando m'en vo'." They all gave me rounds of applause. Just then, a guy walked into the bar--around my age, preppy, Indian (I think) and very drunk. He was babbling some sort of nonsense--totally incoherent. I can't even approximate his babble for you. He was just so far gone. I asked Anxious to sing the duet from Lakme with me.
"I love that song!" IrishBird exclaimed as we started. It was fun. The wasted guy was really annoying though, and started trying to sing along, some totally different melody and totally off key.
"Sorry, we're closed," PumpedUp told him. "We're not serving you here tonight."
Eventually the guy stumbled out.
"Who is that guy?" Anxious asked.
"C'mon... He's not so bad," I said. "That's me on every other night of the week!"
PumpedUp thought that was the funniest thing he ever heard. He started laughing so hard and repeated what I said to IrishBird. We went on joking a bit about my usual "wild" behavior. I felt better being able make light of the whole thing. I feel like it makes me seem more "sane" in their eyes that I can laugh at myself like that, and that I can acknowledge that I have a problem.
"Would you believe that I've known Hyde since she was an innocent?" Anxious asked.
"No!" IrishBird raised her eyebrows.
"Yes!" Anxious said. "I met Hyde when she was just 17 and before she had ever had a drink. She was a perfect angel!"
I smiled.
"She used to wear long flowing dresses and study so hard. She used to be embarassed if people spoke openly to her about sex and she was a straight A meticulous student."
"Hey-" I interrupted. "I'm still a straight A student! Just maybe not so meticulous."
"So what happened?" PumpedUp asked.
"I don't know..." I said. "My sophmore year? I guess I just cracked up."
He laughed.
Anxious and I headed out soon after. It was only about 1:00 am. I asked her if she wanted to crash at my place since it was so late, but she said she was okay driving back to Connecticut as long as she had some coffee. I walked her across the street to the deli and lent her $20 to get a cab back to where her car was parked.
On my way back to my apartment, I saw a man standing on my corner.
"Excuse me!" he called out. It was the wasted guy who had just been in Cheers!
"What's up?" I asked.
"Can I ask you a question?" (Wow! Complete sentences... A little more coherent than he had been a few minutes before!)
"What?"
"Do I seem scary to you? I mean, I just tried to walk a girl home and she treated me like a predator."
"Look," I told him. "You seem like a really nice guy. It's just that you seem like a really drunk guy. Most girls are pretty cautious about that. I mean, when someone's drunk, they're hard to read. You could be the nicest guy and then turn and do something irrational. She was probably just being careful, that's all."
"Thanks. You're really nice," he said.
We stood there and chatted for a few minutes. I told him that I graduated Columbia.
"I have so many friends from Columbia!" he said. "SIPA people though. SIPA people. I know a lot of SIPA people." (SIPA is the school of international affairs.)
"Where do you work?" I asked.
"For Deutsches Bank," he told me. "But I'm dating a girl from Columbia. I'm too old and she's too young. She's too young."
"How old is she?" I asked.
"21."
"That's not so young. How old are you? You don't look that old."
"I am old! I am old!" he said. "A lot older than you."
"I don't think so. What are you? 27? 28?"
"27," he said. "And you?"
"26. I don't think either of us is old at all. Why do you think you're old? Did your girlfriend tell you that?"
He kept licking his lips.
"Cotton mouth?" I asked.
"Don't think I'm licking my lips to be creepy to you!" he said.
"No, I don't. Trust me, I've been there. Coke-night?"
His eyes widened.
"How did you know? I'm so bad. I'm so bad. I've only done it a few times in my life. And I smoked marijuana once."
"Don't worry about it," I said. "Trust me, I'm not judgemental about such things. I used to use myself, but I've been off for a few months."
"Cool. What's your 'man' situation?" he asked.
"Oh, God... That's a tough one. Basically, I got involved in a one-night-stand that developed into an 'eight-month-stand' and I'm trying to get over it now."
"Oh my god! I have to talk to you about this stuff!" he said. "I live right over there." He pointed north a block. "We're neighbors. We should be friends. Wanna come over?"
"Well, I can't tonight. I really have to head home and get some work done. Maybe some other time?"
We exchanged numbers and I headed home. I don' t know why I gave some drunk and high guy standing on my street corner my phone number, but I wasn't drunk when I did it, so I guess I just have plain old shitty judgement in general.
Back at my place, I didn't really want to go to bed, despite being really tired. I called Narc and left him a message.
"Hey Narc, it's Hyde. I know I drunk texted you last night and I really shouldn't have. I guess I wanted to apoligize for that. I don't know... I'm going to try to stop calling you or contacting you, you know? But you know me... Anyway, it's about 2:00 am and I'm home. Just can't sleep. Thought you might be up and that maybe we could talk or something. Guess not. Anyway... Hope everything's good with you and that you're having fun and happy and all that. Talk to you soon... Well, maybe not soon, but talk to you whenever... Um... ok. Bye."
I'm embarassed about it. Contemplated not telling you guys about that one. How fucking pathetic am I? And I can't even use the excuse of being drunk! Soon after that, I feel asleep.
Today I'm heading to the library to make it a work day. NextDoorNeighbor invited me over for dinner with him and some girl that he's dating (not VJ though). It should be interesting to say the least.
That's it for now. Hope you're all well out in blogland!
lol,
Hyde
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
The Plot Thickens
Hammer says I'm like the guy from "Memento." I woke up this morning with the name "Mohammed" scribbled on my hand, and in large blue letters, the time, 7:30.
What the fuck?
Well, before I get to that, first I've got some more weirdness on Raza the cab driver:
After VJ read my post yesterday, she told me something strange. She said that when I put her in a cab and sent her home on Saturday night, that her cab driver was named Raza and that he gave her his number. I don't understand how the same cab driver then came back around Cheers and picked me up to go look for my phone. She said that when she came out of Cheers, I had hailed the cab and was talking to the driver. Did I negotiate for him to come back and pick me up? I don't get it...
Anyway, last night I headed to Cheers for a bite to eat and to meet up with NextDoorNeighbor. I managed to finish grading the first stack of midterms (the ones I promised my class they'd have back today). NextDoorNeighbor came by and we talked for a while--mostly about me and my problem with men, and how he feels about his recent breakup. (He ended a three and a half year relationship back in January). We also talked about his efforts to change careers for a while. He is trying to get a job at the Vidal Partnership which is a huge hispanic marketing and communications firm. The only reason I'm mentioning it here, is that "Vidal" happens to be Narc's last name (who care's about protecting his anonymity, right?). It made me think about him and miss him badly. I didn't drink with dinner, but when NextDoorNeighbor arrived, I ordered two shots of Jager and a glass of Cabernet.
NextDoorNeighbor left at around midnight. And I moved over to the bar. There was some tension between me and IrishBird. I was a little pissed because she never called me back from my Thursday night texts to her, the night the Stallion told me that the people at Cheers talk shit about me behind my back. She was talking to some guy named Joe, an attorney who lives around the corner. I struck up a conversation with him, ordered two more shots, and two glasses of Jack, and soon enough was spilling all of my stories to him. It was kind of amusing. IrishBird told me to tell him the Narc-masturbation story and the guy was shocked and laughed a lot. I guess it's good to finally be able to laugh at some of this shit.
"Why are you stuck on him?" he asked me.
"Because she loves him," IrishBird told him.
To hear her say that made me sad.
Anyway, after a while, Joe left and I was drunk. I asked IrishBird why she never called me back that day.
"Honestly, Hyde, I was busy! But you certainly gave me a hard enough time for it last Saturday when you came in here with your friend VJ. The two of ya's were wasted!"
"I did?" I asked. "What did I say to you?"
"To tell you the truth, Hyde-- you called me a bitch!"
What?!?!?
"I did? I'm so sorry!"
To tell you the truth, dear readers--I'm getting sick of apologizing for things I don't remember doing. The drinking has GOT to stop.
I explained to her why I was so upset about the whole issue. I told her that the Stallion had ripped me up and told me that I had been making out with someone at the bar and that he told me that the people who work at Cheers badmouthed me. She said that I hadn't been making out with anyone, and that nobody said anything bad about me. She did say, though, that his friend Mike showed up later in the night.
"The worst of it, Hyde is that you get obnoxious," she said. "You can be quite an obnoxious drunk."
I felt like I was going to cry. How can I turn into a person that I don't even know that I am? How can I do and say things that don't come from my heart? What kind of impression am I giving to everyone around me? It makes me think of my dad and really seriously hate myself. He was a bad drunk. He got mean and could be violent and turned into a totally different person. When he was himself (his "Dr. Jekyll"), he was sweet and caring and so loving and the best dad in the world. Then he would come home at night and he even looked different. His face and his eyes were red, he smelled different (obviously like alcohol), and his hair was different--rumpled or something. It was like he was two people and I never understood that it was alcohol that did it. My drunk dad was just as much my dad as my sober dad, even if he never remembered the things he said and did. And so I guess my obnoxious drunkeness is just as much me, even though I never want to be rude or obnoxious or annoy anyone or hurt anyone's feeligns. I just want to make the people around me happy and I try so hard to do that. Then I go and fuck everything up, and don't even realize that I did it! I feel really confused and unsettled today. I think that's a good thing though. My therapist likes to say that "complacent people don't change" and that anxiety is a therapist's best friend--it gets you thinking. It certainly has me thinking right now, and I don't want to be an obnoxious drunk anymore.
Anyway, at some point, two new characters came into the bar--a guy named Brady and a girl named Becky. I was drunk and started buying them shots. Oh! Also, the red-faced lawyer was there--the one who grabbed me last December and made me cry (if you recall, I also bumped into him on St. Patty's day). It was his birthday yesterday, so I decided to "reconcile" and led the singing of "Happy Birthday" for him. I bought him a shot, and I bought shots for Brady and Becky. He called me "Victoria" and I told him that wasn't my name and laughed. Later, another guy came in--Jeff. Since I was buying shots all around, I bought him one too. He works at a restaurant over on First Avenue and invited me to come by "any time."
I was feeling pretty shitty about what IrishBird had told me though. I feel like I owe everyone in Cheers an apology. I feel like my life should be one big apology at this point. (I feel like I owe the BIGGEST apology to my dad.) I said as much to IrishBird.
"You don't owe anyone an apology, Hyde... Forget it! It's just that you and me are friends, so it can get annoying to me, you know? To see you like that. It's not that anyone else who works here cares. Maybe BarMan, or PumpedUp, they don't like to see you like that. I mean, everyone knows that you drink too much, but c'mon..."
"I know I drink too much," I said. "It's not about that. It's about being obnoxious and having called you a bitch. There's no excuse for that. That's not me, and it's making me sick to think about it."
Just then, PumpedUp came upstairs from the office. I ran over to him to "apologize" and to thank him for finding my cell phone the other day.
"It wasn't that hard, Hyde. It was right on the table." He smiled at me. "But no problem, though."
Cheers closed up soon after that. I went across the street to the deli. Something happened at the deli I usually go to. I don't remember what it was, but I remember getting annoyed at the guy who works there and leaving. (Maybe I was trying to buy alcohol and they said no?) I went to the deli half a block away. I bumped into IrishBird and PumpedUp there and said hi. After that, I don't remember anything.
I woke up this morning to my alarm-- makeup washed off and boots and earrings off, so I guess I was still relatively okay by the time I arrived home. I was still feeling drunk though. I had a few missed calls on my phone from a mysterious "917" number, starting at 7:30 am. What the fuck? Hammer called me early to see if I was okay. I left her a few drunk messages last night because I was worried about her, dealing with her Wizard heartache and all. I had to rush to get out of the house in time to teach. On my way down the elevator, I called back the "917" number. A man answered.
"Who is this?" I asked.
"Hyde?"
"Yeah... You called me this morning, but I'm not sure who this is," I said.
"It's Mohammed. From the deli? Remember? You asked me to call you this morning at 7:30 to make sure you woke up. Sorry I didn't get you up earlier, but you weren't answering your phone."
"Oh!" (First the cab driver is calling me, and now the deli man. What's WRONG with me?)
"Well, thanks for calling me. That's really sweet. I'm up and I'm ready, and I'm going to be fine getting to work."
"Yes, well... You were really drunk last night."
"I know," I said. "I guess it was just one of those nights."
"Okay, well I'm glad you got up in time."
"Me too. Thanks again SO much!"
"Okay, bye."
So there's the mysterious "Mohammed, 7:30" scribble explained.
Teaching was rough this morning when I started out, but I soon got in my groove and the drunkeness faded. I was teaching the causes of World War I. I love it when I get to teach the world wars. It just makes for good drama in the classroom.
After class, Hammer came by my office. She's going for a jog in Central Park and needed a place to leave her stuff while she runs. I'm supposed to meet her downstairs in another ten minutes or so to give her back her stuff and then head to my voice lesson.
One more bit of drama though-
Do you remember the Wall Street Guy who payed my tab after I sang last Wednesday and then took me to a bar up on 84th street? Well, he just called my cell phone a few minutes ago. He said that he thinks he was drugged that night. He completely blacked out, although he usually doesn't get like that. He said that he lost $8,000.00 and a pair of diamond earrings that he had on him. He even went to the police about it the next day. He asked about the last thing I remembered. I said I remember talking to him in the bar on 84th by the payphones and that's it. He said that the proprietor there told him that I left with some other guy (What?!?!) and that WallStreet stayed until 2:00 am. WallStreet's doorman told him that he showed up back at his place at 6:00 am, so he lost 4 hours there. I feel really bad for him. He said that he was hoping he had given me his stuff to "hold on to." I told him that all I had was that police badge and that I left it with IrishBird. The whole thing is so strange. I promised him that if I find anything, or think of anything that I'll call him. He said thanks, and that we should get a drink sometime. Whatever.
By the way, sent Narc a text last night asking if he wants to fuck. I'm so pathetic. I don't know how he can possibly have any respect for me at this point.
You guys, I HAVE to stop drinking like this.
I HAVE TO
I HAVE TO
I HAVE TO.
-a very ashamed Hyde-
What the fuck?
Well, before I get to that, first I've got some more weirdness on Raza the cab driver:
After VJ read my post yesterday, she told me something strange. She said that when I put her in a cab and sent her home on Saturday night, that her cab driver was named Raza and that he gave her his number. I don't understand how the same cab driver then came back around Cheers and picked me up to go look for my phone. She said that when she came out of Cheers, I had hailed the cab and was talking to the driver. Did I negotiate for him to come back and pick me up? I don't get it...
Anyway, last night I headed to Cheers for a bite to eat and to meet up with NextDoorNeighbor. I managed to finish grading the first stack of midterms (the ones I promised my class they'd have back today). NextDoorNeighbor came by and we talked for a while--mostly about me and my problem with men, and how he feels about his recent breakup. (He ended a three and a half year relationship back in January). We also talked about his efforts to change careers for a while. He is trying to get a job at the Vidal Partnership which is a huge hispanic marketing and communications firm. The only reason I'm mentioning it here, is that "Vidal" happens to be Narc's last name (who care's about protecting his anonymity, right?). It made me think about him and miss him badly. I didn't drink with dinner, but when NextDoorNeighbor arrived, I ordered two shots of Jager and a glass of Cabernet.
NextDoorNeighbor left at around midnight. And I moved over to the bar. There was some tension between me and IrishBird. I was a little pissed because she never called me back from my Thursday night texts to her, the night the Stallion told me that the people at Cheers talk shit about me behind my back. She was talking to some guy named Joe, an attorney who lives around the corner. I struck up a conversation with him, ordered two more shots, and two glasses of Jack, and soon enough was spilling all of my stories to him. It was kind of amusing. IrishBird told me to tell him the Narc-masturbation story and the guy was shocked and laughed a lot. I guess it's good to finally be able to laugh at some of this shit.
"Why are you stuck on him?" he asked me.
"Because she loves him," IrishBird told him.
To hear her say that made me sad.
Anyway, after a while, Joe left and I was drunk. I asked IrishBird why she never called me back that day.
"Honestly, Hyde, I was busy! But you certainly gave me a hard enough time for it last Saturday when you came in here with your friend VJ. The two of ya's were wasted!"
"I did?" I asked. "What did I say to you?"
"To tell you the truth, Hyde-- you called me a bitch!"
What?!?!?
"I did? I'm so sorry!"
To tell you the truth, dear readers--I'm getting sick of apologizing for things I don't remember doing. The drinking has GOT to stop.
I explained to her why I was so upset about the whole issue. I told her that the Stallion had ripped me up and told me that I had been making out with someone at the bar and that he told me that the people who work at Cheers badmouthed me. She said that I hadn't been making out with anyone, and that nobody said anything bad about me. She did say, though, that his friend Mike showed up later in the night.
"The worst of it, Hyde is that you get obnoxious," she said. "You can be quite an obnoxious drunk."
I felt like I was going to cry. How can I turn into a person that I don't even know that I am? How can I do and say things that don't come from my heart? What kind of impression am I giving to everyone around me? It makes me think of my dad and really seriously hate myself. He was a bad drunk. He got mean and could be violent and turned into a totally different person. When he was himself (his "Dr. Jekyll"), he was sweet and caring and so loving and the best dad in the world. Then he would come home at night and he even looked different. His face and his eyes were red, he smelled different (obviously like alcohol), and his hair was different--rumpled or something. It was like he was two people and I never understood that it was alcohol that did it. My drunk dad was just as much my dad as my sober dad, even if he never remembered the things he said and did. And so I guess my obnoxious drunkeness is just as much me, even though I never want to be rude or obnoxious or annoy anyone or hurt anyone's feeligns. I just want to make the people around me happy and I try so hard to do that. Then I go and fuck everything up, and don't even realize that I did it! I feel really confused and unsettled today. I think that's a good thing though. My therapist likes to say that "complacent people don't change" and that anxiety is a therapist's best friend--it gets you thinking. It certainly has me thinking right now, and I don't want to be an obnoxious drunk anymore.
Anyway, at some point, two new characters came into the bar--a guy named Brady and a girl named Becky. I was drunk and started buying them shots. Oh! Also, the red-faced lawyer was there--the one who grabbed me last December and made me cry (if you recall, I also bumped into him on St. Patty's day). It was his birthday yesterday, so I decided to "reconcile" and led the singing of "Happy Birthday" for him. I bought him a shot, and I bought shots for Brady and Becky. He called me "Victoria" and I told him that wasn't my name and laughed. Later, another guy came in--Jeff. Since I was buying shots all around, I bought him one too. He works at a restaurant over on First Avenue and invited me to come by "any time."
I was feeling pretty shitty about what IrishBird had told me though. I feel like I owe everyone in Cheers an apology. I feel like my life should be one big apology at this point. (I feel like I owe the BIGGEST apology to my dad.) I said as much to IrishBird.
"You don't owe anyone an apology, Hyde... Forget it! It's just that you and me are friends, so it can get annoying to me, you know? To see you like that. It's not that anyone else who works here cares. Maybe BarMan, or PumpedUp, they don't like to see you like that. I mean, everyone knows that you drink too much, but c'mon..."
"I know I drink too much," I said. "It's not about that. It's about being obnoxious and having called you a bitch. There's no excuse for that. That's not me, and it's making me sick to think about it."
Just then, PumpedUp came upstairs from the office. I ran over to him to "apologize" and to thank him for finding my cell phone the other day.
"It wasn't that hard, Hyde. It was right on the table." He smiled at me. "But no problem, though."
Cheers closed up soon after that. I went across the street to the deli. Something happened at the deli I usually go to. I don't remember what it was, but I remember getting annoyed at the guy who works there and leaving. (Maybe I was trying to buy alcohol and they said no?) I went to the deli half a block away. I bumped into IrishBird and PumpedUp there and said hi. After that, I don't remember anything.
I woke up this morning to my alarm-- makeup washed off and boots and earrings off, so I guess I was still relatively okay by the time I arrived home. I was still feeling drunk though. I had a few missed calls on my phone from a mysterious "917" number, starting at 7:30 am. What the fuck? Hammer called me early to see if I was okay. I left her a few drunk messages last night because I was worried about her, dealing with her Wizard heartache and all. I had to rush to get out of the house in time to teach. On my way down the elevator, I called back the "917" number. A man answered.
"Who is this?" I asked.
"Hyde?"
"Yeah... You called me this morning, but I'm not sure who this is," I said.
"It's Mohammed. From the deli? Remember? You asked me to call you this morning at 7:30 to make sure you woke up. Sorry I didn't get you up earlier, but you weren't answering your phone."
"Oh!" (First the cab driver is calling me, and now the deli man. What's WRONG with me?)
"Well, thanks for calling me. That's really sweet. I'm up and I'm ready, and I'm going to be fine getting to work."
"Yes, well... You were really drunk last night."
"I know," I said. "I guess it was just one of those nights."
"Okay, well I'm glad you got up in time."
"Me too. Thanks again SO much!"
"Okay, bye."
So there's the mysterious "Mohammed, 7:30" scribble explained.
Teaching was rough this morning when I started out, but I soon got in my groove and the drunkeness faded. I was teaching the causes of World War I. I love it when I get to teach the world wars. It just makes for good drama in the classroom.
After class, Hammer came by my office. She's going for a jog in Central Park and needed a place to leave her stuff while she runs. I'm supposed to meet her downstairs in another ten minutes or so to give her back her stuff and then head to my voice lesson.
One more bit of drama though-
Do you remember the Wall Street Guy who payed my tab after I sang last Wednesday and then took me to a bar up on 84th street? Well, he just called my cell phone a few minutes ago. He said that he thinks he was drugged that night. He completely blacked out, although he usually doesn't get like that. He said that he lost $8,000.00 and a pair of diamond earrings that he had on him. He even went to the police about it the next day. He asked about the last thing I remembered. I said I remember talking to him in the bar on 84th by the payphones and that's it. He said that the proprietor there told him that I left with some other guy (What?!?!) and that WallStreet stayed until 2:00 am. WallStreet's doorman told him that he showed up back at his place at 6:00 am, so he lost 4 hours there. I feel really bad for him. He said that he was hoping he had given me his stuff to "hold on to." I told him that all I had was that police badge and that I left it with IrishBird. The whole thing is so strange. I promised him that if I find anything, or think of anything that I'll call him. He said thanks, and that we should get a drink sometime. Whatever.
By the way, sent Narc a text last night asking if he wants to fuck. I'm so pathetic. I don't know how he can possibly have any respect for me at this point.
You guys, I HAVE to stop drinking like this.
I HAVE TO
I HAVE TO
I HAVE TO.
-a very ashamed Hyde-
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Taxi Surprise
I noticed a strange phone number on my cell phone's "missed calls" list from Saturday night. There were two calls made-- one placed at 2:37 am, and the other at 2:54 am. As I didn't recognize the number, I took a deep breath this evening and decided to try calling that number back. I HATE blacking out, and can't stand any sort of mystery anymore. A voice-mail picked up, but it was a standard computerized recording and I couldn't tell anything about the person to whom the number belongs. Just now as I arrived home, and sat checking my email, I got a call from that very number.
"Hyde?"
"Um, yeah... Who is this?"
"This is Raza!"
"Who?"
"Raza! The driver..."
"Oh!"
"Did you ever find your phone, Hyde?"
"Yes, yes I did. Thanks so much for your help with that."
"So, Hyde... What are you up to tonight?"
"Mostly work. It's a work night for me. I have to grade a pile of midterms."
"Staying home and working on a beautiful night like this?"
"Well, yeah... Maybe I'll get to go for a walk later or something."
"Are you going to be walking later?"
"Well, probably not... I have a lot of work to do."
"Do you want to get together sometime, Hyde? You have my number?"
"Well, I don't know... If I have some time this weekend, I can give you a call, but I really have to get back to work now."
"Okay, sweetheart. Hope to hear from you."
"Okay, nite."
Honestly you guys--I have no recollection of giving the cabbie my number. I can't even picture what he looks like. Mr. Hyde strikes again. Ughh!
Today was pretty productive both in terms of my personal life and my scholastic life. I had therapy this morning, then went for a pedicure and my waxing. I need to feel fresh and beautiful and unsullied by all of these assholes! Especially now that my sore throat is an ever constant reminder of the violent Stallion. Anyway, after that, I went for a haircut and then to German class with Hammer. We ate at a small cafe afterwards, and I got a lot of my Adorno reading done. Then back home. NextDoorNeighbor and I may meet up for a drink later. (I promise, I'll try to be good...) I miss Narc really badly today though. Don't know why, but I keep thinking of him. Hammer had a dream about me and Narc last night. She said that she dreamt that Narc called me on my phone to "torment" me and she saw him grinning at her while he did it. She reminded me today after German that love is supposed to be "playful and fun." It's a good lesson Hammer--one that I'll have to drill into my brain.
Anyway, I wasn't lying to the taxi-driver. I really do have a tremendous stack of midterms to grade and I promised my students I'd return them tomorrow, so I've gotta run.
lol to all!
hyde
"Hyde?"
"Um, yeah... Who is this?"
"This is Raza!"
"Who?"
"Raza! The driver..."
"Oh!"
"Did you ever find your phone, Hyde?"
"Yes, yes I did. Thanks so much for your help with that."
"So, Hyde... What are you up to tonight?"
"Mostly work. It's a work night for me. I have to grade a pile of midterms."
"Staying home and working on a beautiful night like this?"
"Well, yeah... Maybe I'll get to go for a walk later or something."
"Are you going to be walking later?"
"Well, probably not... I have a lot of work to do."
"Do you want to get together sometime, Hyde? You have my number?"
"Well, I don't know... If I have some time this weekend, I can give you a call, but I really have to get back to work now."
"Okay, sweetheart. Hope to hear from you."
"Okay, nite."
Honestly you guys--I have no recollection of giving the cabbie my number. I can't even picture what he looks like. Mr. Hyde strikes again. Ughh!
Today was pretty productive both in terms of my personal life and my scholastic life. I had therapy this morning, then went for a pedicure and my waxing. I need to feel fresh and beautiful and unsullied by all of these assholes! Especially now that my sore throat is an ever constant reminder of the violent Stallion. Anyway, after that, I went for a haircut and then to German class with Hammer. We ate at a small cafe afterwards, and I got a lot of my Adorno reading done. Then back home. NextDoorNeighbor and I may meet up for a drink later. (I promise, I'll try to be good...) I miss Narc really badly today though. Don't know why, but I keep thinking of him. Hammer had a dream about me and Narc last night. She said that she dreamt that Narc called me on my phone to "torment" me and she saw him grinning at her while he did it. She reminded me today after German that love is supposed to be "playful and fun." It's a good lesson Hammer--one that I'll have to drill into my brain.
Anyway, I wasn't lying to the taxi-driver. I really do have a tremendous stack of midterms to grade and I promised my students I'd return them tomorrow, so I've gotta run.
lol to all!
hyde
Monday, March 28, 2005
Ouch!
My throat hurts so much it's unbearable. It's approaching the level of pain of when I had my tonsils out. Worse still, this is all my fault. The doctor said that there is so much redness and swelling around the throat cavity that it looks like there are tissue tears from abrasions and irritation. (You guys can guess what that's from). That makes me much more susceptible to all sorts of bacterial infections there. My throat is already sensitive enough. Now, thanks to the Stallion, I'm in excrutiating pain. I'm not one to whine about pain unless it's bad, but it's bad... I hate him right now and I hate that I feel like this. I hope that it's just a regular bacterial infection and that he didn't give me some sort of STD. I think I'd just die if that happened.
Anyway, I took one Codeine and two Vicodin and I'm still in super pain. I got started on an antibiotic, but don't know if it's going to work. Right now I'm just waiting for B to get here for our 24 night. I'm cooking him spaghetti with meatballs and sausage. The kitchen smells really good. Too bad I'll hardly be able to enjoy the food. Don't mean to be such a complainer, but I'm in a cranky mood right now... Cranky, cranky cranky!
Tomorrow morning I go back to see my therapist. I have relative success to report in terms of my drinking--since I saw her on Thursday afternoon, I only got drunk with VJ on Saturday night.
That's it for now. I know... Have you ever known Hyde to be so brief? Enjoy it. It may never happen again...
Anyway, I took one Codeine and two Vicodin and I'm still in super pain. I got started on an antibiotic, but don't know if it's going to work. Right now I'm just waiting for B to get here for our 24 night. I'm cooking him spaghetti with meatballs and sausage. The kitchen smells really good. Too bad I'll hardly be able to enjoy the food. Don't mean to be such a complainer, but I'm in a cranky mood right now... Cranky, cranky cranky!
Tomorrow morning I go back to see my therapist. I have relative success to report in terms of my drinking--since I saw her on Thursday afternoon, I only got drunk with VJ on Saturday night.
That's it for now. I know... Have you ever known Hyde to be so brief? Enjoy it. It may never happen again...
Easter Bitch
Easter weekend was not at all as eventful as the past week has been (framed by my unexpected "reunion" with Narc last Sunday and the "revenge sex" with the Stallion on Thursday). I didn't take care of myself properly though, even though I knew a bit of a sore throat was coming on, and now I am stuck in a lot of pain. I can't swallow at all and so I've scheduled a doctor's appointment for later today, in hopes of securing some antibiotics.
Anyway, after my long sleep on Friday night, I went to the opera with my mom on Saturday. We had a nice time. There's nothing like extreme Italian Romanticism to restore order to the soul--at least to my soul. There's a certain humanistic comfortable familiarity, if that makes any sense at all. I was especially enamored with Pagliacci. The only caveat of the afternoon--my mom decided to ask me about my "love life." Because she's worried that I'm not "settled," she started making suggestions about how to meet a "nice boy." (While I admit, I'm not too skilled in that department, I did not feel like having that conversation with my mother).
Anyway, after the opera, I headed back to my place to do some work and to try to attack the overwhelming mess that has accumulated in my apartment. I couldn't help but think and rethink the whole situation with the Stallion and with Narc. I'm sick of feeling used and criticized. I'm sick of feeling like all of my kindness, loyalty, intellect and talent counts for nothing for the guys I'm engaging with. So I made a second "New Year's Resolution." (My first one, made upon the new year, was to work on my physical health. As you know, it's sorely needed. So far, my only major victory in that arena has been quitting my "medicine.") But here's my second resolution for 2005-- I want to be more of a bitch. I don't mean that I want to start being mean to people, but I want to be a little more self-righteously assertive. When people make ridiculous demands of me (as in--"it's 4:30 in the morning, and I know you have to work tomorrow, but come here and fuck me because I say so," I want to be able to tell him to "fuck off," and mean it. Or when someone tries to have really violent (and painful) sex with me, while telling me that my friends at Cheers are all against me, I want to be able to say "get the hell out of my bed and out of my house," instead of letting him comfortably sleep in my bed while I'm exiled to blogging in the living room.) Anyway, it's not in my nature to be very assertive/agressive, but I figure that it's a good goal...
While I was puttering around, cleaning up my house, I talked to Sunshine on the phone for a while. (Finally making use of those free weekends!) I was waiting for VJ to arrive for our "girl's night out." VJ got here shortly and we caught up on the events of the past week. She had taken a cruise out of Miami the weekend before, and I hadn't really spoken to her all week long. We ordered in some Chinese food, watched Law & Order SVU and made our plans for the night. Anxious called and I talked to her on the phone for a while. I hooked her up with BulgarianGuy's phone number, and asked if I could give hers to him. She agreed.
VJ and I headed out early--around 10:00 pm or so. I didn't feel like going to Cheers after the strange incident with the flirty Colombian, and the stuff that the Stallion told me. So, I asked if she wanted to go to Joshua Tree--a place known for it's post-collegiate party crowd. It's a little frat-boyish for me, but VJ and I look for different things in our nightlife, and it's much less of a "meat market" than Sutton Place (where she wanted to go last week), so I figured it was a good compromise.
On the way over there, we passed by Cheers. I waved to the bouncer through the door. He stopped us to chat.
"Hyde, did you meet up with your friend who was here the other day looking for you?"
"This friend?" I asked, gesturing to VJ.
"That's her!"
He was clearly into VJ and told us to come into the bar.
"We're going out to meet boys," I said. "We're going to try our luck elsewhere."
He challenged us to meet a boy who would "treat VJ as wonderfully" as he would. It was kind of cheesy.
IrishBird popped her head out the door to say hi.
"Not welcome! Not welcome, here!" she said, laughing. "You too are just too rowdy!"
"It's okay," I said. "We weren't planning on coming in here anyway."
I smiled, but inside I was pissed because she hadn't returned my texts from the night before. I contemplated making it my "bitchy moment," but I couldn't do it.
Anyway, on to Joshua Tree!
When we got there, we found two seats at the bar. A really creepy older woman was standing at the bar nearby, just starting at us. She had her hand tucked into her jacket and a menacing vacant look on her face. VJ swore that she was about to pull a gun on the place. They were playing retro-'80s videos on two large monitors above the bar. VJ was dancing. It was a lot of fun. Some guy came over to talk to VJ, but made some sketchy comments, and she had to ignore him for a while in order to get rid of him. She has a pretty low tolerance and got very drunk fast. At one point, she went to the bathroom and while I was leaning over to scan the crowd for her, I caught the eye of the two guys on my left. I started up conversation with them , and when VJ came back, she joined us. One of them was really into her--I could never clearly hear his name though--Chad or Chet or something like that. The other one was a 7th grade math teacher, whose first name I don't recall. I was mostly talking to him. I asked the boys if they wanted to do a round or two of shots. They bought us rounds of Jager. VJ didn't do hers though. I don't know how much I ended up drinking at that place--maybe 6 jack& diet coke's, 2 shots of Jager and 2 shots of vodka? In any case, I was still in a place where I felt like I had to keep an eye on VJ and make sure that she had water and stuff. I don't know how necessary it was, but it was good for me not to let myself go completley.
VJ's ex-boyfriend was in town for the night, and left her two funny messages. The story is way too long to go into here, but the bottom line is that I used to be friends with him in college (in fact before VJ really knew him), but he and I had a falling out back in 2001. I haven't spoken to him since. In fact, there's a lot of animosity there. He wanted to convince her to meet up with him though, and when she said she was hanging out with me, he left her messages saying "I would love to see you and Hyde!" (Yeah, right...)
Anyway, at some point I must have reached my tipping point, because the night gets blurry after that. We headed back to Cheers; I remember thinking that my cell phone was lost, and panicking about it. I remember seeing the flirty Colombian and brushing him off, trying to make that my "bitchy moment," but I don't think I was sober enough for it to come off well. The "bitchiness" I'm hoping to obtain includes the aura of being in control. At one point, I couldn't find VJ at all. When I finally found her, she was laying face-down across a bench in the back of the bar, fast asleep. I have no clue what time it was. I woke her up and told her that it was time for her to go home. I insisted on putting her in a cab and told her to call me when she got home. It's funny though--I don't remember doing that AT ALL. So there I was--so drunk that I was in blackout mode, yet I was still trying to take care of her! (According to my research, there are two type of blackouts--"en bloc" and "fragmentary." Usually I get fragmentary blackouts before the en bloc ones set in.)
I was majorly concerned about my lost cell phone though. I left Cheers alone and got a cab back to Joshua Tree, where I worked my way through the crowd and asked the bartender if anyone had found it. I only have partial memory of that. (Fragmentary blackout, I guess.) VJ told me, the next day, that she had seen my cell phone at Cheers and had told me so, but I guess I couldn't absorb that fact, or couldn't remember it. (It's weird how alcohol impaires memory. I read a study in which intoxicated subjects could recall information immediately after its presentation and even keep it active in short-term memory for one minute or more. They could also recall long-term memories formed prior to becoming drunk, but beginning with just one or two drinks, they started to show impairments in the ability to transfer information into long-term storage. I guess if she told me about the phone, I forgot about it just an hour later.)
Anyway, the search for my cell phone at Joshua Tree was obviously a bust. I went back to Cheers, where PumpedUp had located the phone and gave it to me. That's about the last thing that I remember.
The next morning when I woke up, I had a text from Narc (sent at 7:31 am). He wrote:
Just got home, have a great Easter with the fam!
Well, that didn't seem right. How would he know my Easter plans? I checked my outgoing calls.
Sure enough, the record was revealing:
3:20 am: 1 minute, 16 second phone call to Narc
3:32 am. 1 minute, 5 second phone call to Narc
I'm sure that we didn't talk, but rather, that I just left him drunken messages.
Ughhhh!
And where was he that he was "just getting home" at 7:30 in the morning? Was he with another girl? Is that what he was trying to tell me?
Shit.
I wrote back to him:
Happy Easter to you too. Maybe we can catch up some other time...
Why I wrote that, don't ask me!
Anyway, after my long sleep on Friday night, I went to the opera with my mom on Saturday. We had a nice time. There's nothing like extreme Italian Romanticism to restore order to the soul--at least to my soul. There's a certain humanistic comfortable familiarity, if that makes any sense at all. I was especially enamored with Pagliacci. The only caveat of the afternoon--my mom decided to ask me about my "love life." Because she's worried that I'm not "settled," she started making suggestions about how to meet a "nice boy." (While I admit, I'm not too skilled in that department, I did not feel like having that conversation with my mother).
Anyway, after the opera, I headed back to my place to do some work and to try to attack the overwhelming mess that has accumulated in my apartment. I couldn't help but think and rethink the whole situation with the Stallion and with Narc. I'm sick of feeling used and criticized. I'm sick of feeling like all of my kindness, loyalty, intellect and talent counts for nothing for the guys I'm engaging with. So I made a second "New Year's Resolution." (My first one, made upon the new year, was to work on my physical health. As you know, it's sorely needed. So far, my only major victory in that arena has been quitting my "medicine.") But here's my second resolution for 2005-- I want to be more of a bitch. I don't mean that I want to start being mean to people, but I want to be a little more self-righteously assertive. When people make ridiculous demands of me (as in--"it's 4:30 in the morning, and I know you have to work tomorrow, but come here and fuck me because I say so," I want to be able to tell him to "fuck off," and mean it. Or when someone tries to have really violent (and painful) sex with me, while telling me that my friends at Cheers are all against me, I want to be able to say "get the hell out of my bed and out of my house," instead of letting him comfortably sleep in my bed while I'm exiled to blogging in the living room.) Anyway, it's not in my nature to be very assertive/agressive, but I figure that it's a good goal...
While I was puttering around, cleaning up my house, I talked to Sunshine on the phone for a while. (Finally making use of those free weekends!) I was waiting for VJ to arrive for our "girl's night out." VJ got here shortly and we caught up on the events of the past week. She had taken a cruise out of Miami the weekend before, and I hadn't really spoken to her all week long. We ordered in some Chinese food, watched Law & Order SVU and made our plans for the night. Anxious called and I talked to her on the phone for a while. I hooked her up with BulgarianGuy's phone number, and asked if I could give hers to him. She agreed.
VJ and I headed out early--around 10:00 pm or so. I didn't feel like going to Cheers after the strange incident with the flirty Colombian, and the stuff that the Stallion told me. So, I asked if she wanted to go to Joshua Tree--a place known for it's post-collegiate party crowd. It's a little frat-boyish for me, but VJ and I look for different things in our nightlife, and it's much less of a "meat market" than Sutton Place (where she wanted to go last week), so I figured it was a good compromise.
On the way over there, we passed by Cheers. I waved to the bouncer through the door. He stopped us to chat.
"Hyde, did you meet up with your friend who was here the other day looking for you?"
"This friend?" I asked, gesturing to VJ.
"That's her!"
He was clearly into VJ and told us to come into the bar.
"We're going out to meet boys," I said. "We're going to try our luck elsewhere."
He challenged us to meet a boy who would "treat VJ as wonderfully" as he would. It was kind of cheesy.
IrishBird popped her head out the door to say hi.
"Not welcome! Not welcome, here!" she said, laughing. "You too are just too rowdy!"
"It's okay," I said. "We weren't planning on coming in here anyway."
I smiled, but inside I was pissed because she hadn't returned my texts from the night before. I contemplated making it my "bitchy moment," but I couldn't do it.
Anyway, on to Joshua Tree!
When we got there, we found two seats at the bar. A really creepy older woman was standing at the bar nearby, just starting at us. She had her hand tucked into her jacket and a menacing vacant look on her face. VJ swore that she was about to pull a gun on the place. They were playing retro-'80s videos on two large monitors above the bar. VJ was dancing. It was a lot of fun. Some guy came over to talk to VJ, but made some sketchy comments, and she had to ignore him for a while in order to get rid of him. She has a pretty low tolerance and got very drunk fast. At one point, she went to the bathroom and while I was leaning over to scan the crowd for her, I caught the eye of the two guys on my left. I started up conversation with them , and when VJ came back, she joined us. One of them was really into her--I could never clearly hear his name though--Chad or Chet or something like that. The other one was a 7th grade math teacher, whose first name I don't recall. I was mostly talking to him. I asked the boys if they wanted to do a round or two of shots. They bought us rounds of Jager. VJ didn't do hers though. I don't know how much I ended up drinking at that place--maybe 6 jack& diet coke's, 2 shots of Jager and 2 shots of vodka? In any case, I was still in a place where I felt like I had to keep an eye on VJ and make sure that she had water and stuff. I don't know how necessary it was, but it was good for me not to let myself go completley.
VJ's ex-boyfriend was in town for the night, and left her two funny messages. The story is way too long to go into here, but the bottom line is that I used to be friends with him in college (in fact before VJ really knew him), but he and I had a falling out back in 2001. I haven't spoken to him since. In fact, there's a lot of animosity there. He wanted to convince her to meet up with him though, and when she said she was hanging out with me, he left her messages saying "I would love to see you and Hyde!" (Yeah, right...)
Anyway, at some point I must have reached my tipping point, because the night gets blurry after that. We headed back to Cheers; I remember thinking that my cell phone was lost, and panicking about it. I remember seeing the flirty Colombian and brushing him off, trying to make that my "bitchy moment," but I don't think I was sober enough for it to come off well. The "bitchiness" I'm hoping to obtain includes the aura of being in control. At one point, I couldn't find VJ at all. When I finally found her, she was laying face-down across a bench in the back of the bar, fast asleep. I have no clue what time it was. I woke her up and told her that it was time for her to go home. I insisted on putting her in a cab and told her to call me when she got home. It's funny though--I don't remember doing that AT ALL. So there I was--so drunk that I was in blackout mode, yet I was still trying to take care of her! (According to my research, there are two type of blackouts--"en bloc" and "fragmentary." Usually I get fragmentary blackouts before the en bloc ones set in.)
I was majorly concerned about my lost cell phone though. I left Cheers alone and got a cab back to Joshua Tree, where I worked my way through the crowd and asked the bartender if anyone had found it. I only have partial memory of that. (Fragmentary blackout, I guess.) VJ told me, the next day, that she had seen my cell phone at Cheers and had told me so, but I guess I couldn't absorb that fact, or couldn't remember it. (It's weird how alcohol impaires memory. I read a study in which intoxicated subjects could recall information immediately after its presentation and even keep it active in short-term memory for one minute or more. They could also recall long-term memories formed prior to becoming drunk, but beginning with just one or two drinks, they started to show impairments in the ability to transfer information into long-term storage. I guess if she told me about the phone, I forgot about it just an hour later.)
Anyway, the search for my cell phone at Joshua Tree was obviously a bust. I went back to Cheers, where PumpedUp had located the phone and gave it to me. That's about the last thing that I remember.
The next morning when I woke up, I had a text from Narc (sent at 7:31 am). He wrote:
Just got home, have a great Easter with the fam!
Well, that didn't seem right. How would he know my Easter plans? I checked my outgoing calls.
Sure enough, the record was revealing:
3:20 am: 1 minute, 16 second phone call to Narc
3:32 am. 1 minute, 5 second phone call to Narc
I'm sure that we didn't talk, but rather, that I just left him drunken messages.
Ughhhh!
And where was he that he was "just getting home" at 7:30 in the morning? Was he with another girl? Is that what he was trying to tell me?
Shit.
I wrote back to him:
Happy Easter to you too. Maybe we can catch up some other time...
Why I wrote that, don't ask me!
By Sunday morning, I was feeling really crappy and run down. VJ showed up at my place at around 9:15. She had left all her stuff here the night before, but hadn't picked it up because I sent her home in a cab. I had an awful headache, and my throat started to hurt on every swallow. I tried to refresh myself and wear something nice for Easter, but I had no time to shower, and just felt grimy and drunk. I picked up my usual hangover breakfast (gateorade, coffee, and something absorbant) and headed to the train station.
LilSis and JBC picked me up in Bayside--that's where my stepbrother is staying now--at a Children's Hospital there. He is really doing better each time I see him, although it's still impossibly hard to see him like that. He has some new tricks though--he raises his hand to cover his mouth when he coughs and he tried to use the blanket as a tissue. Best of all-- the other day, he opened his mouth and swallowed on command! And when his girlfriend came to visit him on Friday, he moved his arm to put it around her and played with her hair. He hasn't done that with anyone else, so it had to be deliberate. He was really tired yesterday though. Apparently, there had been a crisis earlier in the week. His pain-killer patch had fallen off, although nobody noticed it. (Basically, they have him on an equivalent of morphine). He developed a crazy fever and was sweating profusely. Then he started having frightening seizures and foaming and salivating at the mouth. Everyone panicked until they realized it was symptoms of drug withdrawal. They put the patch back on him, but it takes a while to kick in. In the meanwhile, he was flailing around so much that my stepfather had to stay the night and stay awake 16 hours, holding his hand and making sure that he didn't injure himself. (Remember--it's a danger for him to hit himself in the head because he's missing a big chunk of skull). By the time I got there this weekend, the drug patch was back in effect, but he was clearly physically exhausted from the difficult week. It's really hard for me to see him like that. I don't know how to act, or what to say. I usually just sit there holding his hand for as long as I can.
My mom and BigSis showed up, along with my aunt, uncle and grandpa. I was there from around 11:00 to 2:30. Then we headed back to my parents' house, to pick up my stepfather and brother-in-law and head to my cousins' house for Easter dinner. My sister finally had her finished wedding album (the wedding was back September, 2003), and we all poured over the album in the car.
My stepfather is Italian (born and raised on a farm outside Rome) and he has a huge Italian family. It's so nice doing holidays with them because the family is large, loud and boisterous and the food is AMAZING! They've got all sorts of treats floating around like homemade wine, homemade sausages and fresh pasta (made from scratch). The wine they make is crazy-strong, though, so I didn' t partake in any yesterday, given my sore throat and hangover. My step-cousin (who hosted the holiday) and his wife just had a baby in the fall. The baby is so incredibly cute that I can't stand it! I loved playing with him. I have such baby-cravings all the time. They haven't been so bad lately, but last summer and fall I was majorly afflicted. I mean, given my life, and where I am in my head, there's no way I would ever have a baby any time soon, but that doesn't get rid of the desire for one. Yesterday, I held on to him for as long as I could and it was so nice. The whole holiday was bittersweet though because everyone's mind was on my stepbrother.
BigSis, Bro-in-Law and I headed back to the city around 7:30 or so. My stepfather drove us to the train on his way to visit my brother in the hospital. Back at home, my throat started to hurt more and more. I just felt so run down. I fell asleep around 10:00 pm, and I'm definitely sick now. I just hope the doctor gives me something and that the antibiotics kick in before my voice lesson on Wednesday. We'll see what the doctor says... My appointment is in two hours or so...
later...
-Hyde
Saturday, March 26, 2005
Orpheus
Che Faro senza Euridice?
Dove Andro senza il mio ben?
Che faro? Dove Andro?
Che faro senza il mio ben?
Dove Andro senza il mio ben?
I fell asleep at 9:00 pm last night. I guess my body needed it. My throat hurts so fucking much this morning; I hope I get over it fast. It's not even 8:00 am, but it should give me some time to get some of my reading out of the way this morning.
Yesterday afternoon, after lunch with Hammer, I went to see "Downfall" (that Hitler movie) with B (second time for me). I think that movie is really just incredible. Afterwards we went for dinner in the East Village. Lately things have been different with him though. I've sensed a gulf between us. He is so far away from me. I know him so well, and I am so tuned in to every shift in his mood, that even though nothing has changed between us on the surface, the subtle screen that he has raised feels like a brick wall to me. It's like we're not "sharing" the world anymore. There's him; and then there's me. I asked him about it and he acknowledged that it's there.
"Some things that I want to talk about, or need to talk about, or that are on my mind are not appropriate to discuss with you," he said.
I felt my heart breaking. He's probably right, but it made me feel very alone. He doesn't want me to be his partner anymore.
We were standing on 6th street after dinner and had to part ways. He had to go towards 2nd avenue and I had to walk over to 1st. I was Orpheus walking into hell and forced myself to stare straight ahead as I went. Unlike Orpheus, I did not turn around. It made me miserably depressed. B is leaving me. It's as if I'm just floating in this world now, rootless, without a home. He's always been my "soft place to land," but he doesn't feel like home anymore.
Ah non m'avanza piu soccorso, piu speranza
ne dal mondo ne dal ciel!
When I got back to my place, it was only 7:30 or so. I wasn't sure of my plans for the night, but c'mon--Friday night? Something fun had to be going on. I have to say, though--I was exhausted. I felt really run down. Must have been the mere two-three hours of sleep I was permitted the night before after the Stallion's surprise visit. The more I think about that, the more I'm turned off to the Stallion all together. I mean, the sex wasn't even all that pleasurable for me--more painful and disturbing than anything else. Besides, what attracted me to him in the first place was his easy-going, carefree, joyful spirit, not all the accusatory dramatic shit that went down between us on Thursday! I talked to Liu for a while on the phone yesterday, and repeating it all to her kind of cemented it for me. (By the way Liu-- don't forget to call me and tell me how things go with your dad!)
So I passed out early last night (and made it through another night without getting drunk!). I missed phone calls from VJ and NextDoorNeighbor (who apparently had a date last night), BulgarianGuy and a text from Hammer. VJ told me that she had been here ringing my bell and even went by Cheers looking for me; the bouncer was all concerned that she find me. I guess I was really sleeping like a rock. I feel a little uncomfortable about going back to Cheers after that awkwardness with the flirty Columbian and after what the Stallion said. Also, I left IrishBird two texts to call me and she hasn't called back. What's up with that? I was hoping for a call from Narc, even a drunk call, even one I would have slept through. It was not forthcoming. This morning I'm sad about that too. This morning my heart is aching when I think about him. I wonder what he's doing; I wonder if he has found someone else, or if he's home at the end of the night being depressed, just like me...
Today I'm going to the opera with my mom--Cavalleria Rusticana & Pagliacci. It will be nice to get some alone time with her, but I just hope I don't say anything to give her any concern for my "lifestyle," you know? I don't want her to know that my throat hurts and that I'm run down.
That's it for now. I'm going to shower and dress and try to get out of this depresso-mode. Doing my Adorno reading should get my mind off things. My cat is going crazy again right now. He is leaping around on the couch and making a lot of noise by trying to shimmy behind the blinds. It looks sunny out today. Maybe the day will bring some fabulous adventure and by tonight, my whole world will have changed. You never know...
-hyde
PS: Today's the 1 month anniversary of the night I left Narc the "goodbye forever" note.
:-<
Dove Andro senza il mio ben?
Che faro? Dove Andro?
Che faro senza il mio ben?
Dove Andro senza il mio ben?
I fell asleep at 9:00 pm last night. I guess my body needed it. My throat hurts so fucking much this morning; I hope I get over it fast. It's not even 8:00 am, but it should give me some time to get some of my reading out of the way this morning.
Yesterday afternoon, after lunch with Hammer, I went to see "Downfall" (that Hitler movie) with B (second time for me). I think that movie is really just incredible. Afterwards we went for dinner in the East Village. Lately things have been different with him though. I've sensed a gulf between us. He is so far away from me. I know him so well, and I am so tuned in to every shift in his mood, that even though nothing has changed between us on the surface, the subtle screen that he has raised feels like a brick wall to me. It's like we're not "sharing" the world anymore. There's him; and then there's me. I asked him about it and he acknowledged that it's there.
"Some things that I want to talk about, or need to talk about, or that are on my mind are not appropriate to discuss with you," he said.
I felt my heart breaking. He's probably right, but it made me feel very alone. He doesn't want me to be his partner anymore.
We were standing on 6th street after dinner and had to part ways. He had to go towards 2nd avenue and I had to walk over to 1st. I was Orpheus walking into hell and forced myself to stare straight ahead as I went. Unlike Orpheus, I did not turn around. It made me miserably depressed. B is leaving me. It's as if I'm just floating in this world now, rootless, without a home. He's always been my "soft place to land," but he doesn't feel like home anymore.
Ah non m'avanza piu soccorso, piu speranza
ne dal mondo ne dal ciel!
When I got back to my place, it was only 7:30 or so. I wasn't sure of my plans for the night, but c'mon--Friday night? Something fun had to be going on. I have to say, though--I was exhausted. I felt really run down. Must have been the mere two-three hours of sleep I was permitted the night before after the Stallion's surprise visit. The more I think about that, the more I'm turned off to the Stallion all together. I mean, the sex wasn't even all that pleasurable for me--more painful and disturbing than anything else. Besides, what attracted me to him in the first place was his easy-going, carefree, joyful spirit, not all the accusatory dramatic shit that went down between us on Thursday! I talked to Liu for a while on the phone yesterday, and repeating it all to her kind of cemented it for me. (By the way Liu-- don't forget to call me and tell me how things go with your dad!)
So I passed out early last night (and made it through another night without getting drunk!). I missed phone calls from VJ and NextDoorNeighbor (who apparently had a date last night), BulgarianGuy and a text from Hammer. VJ told me that she had been here ringing my bell and even went by Cheers looking for me; the bouncer was all concerned that she find me. I guess I was really sleeping like a rock. I feel a little uncomfortable about going back to Cheers after that awkwardness with the flirty Columbian and after what the Stallion said. Also, I left IrishBird two texts to call me and she hasn't called back. What's up with that? I was hoping for a call from Narc, even a drunk call, even one I would have slept through. It was not forthcoming. This morning I'm sad about that too. This morning my heart is aching when I think about him. I wonder what he's doing; I wonder if he has found someone else, or if he's home at the end of the night being depressed, just like me...
Today I'm going to the opera with my mom--Cavalleria Rusticana & Pagliacci. It will be nice to get some alone time with her, but I just hope I don't say anything to give her any concern for my "lifestyle," you know? I don't want her to know that my throat hurts and that I'm run down.
That's it for now. I'm going to shower and dress and try to get out of this depresso-mode. Doing my Adorno reading should get my mind off things. My cat is going crazy again right now. He is leaping around on the couch and making a lot of noise by trying to shimmy behind the blinds. It looks sunny out today. Maybe the day will bring some fabulous adventure and by tonight, my whole world will have changed. You never know...
-hyde
PS: Today's the 1 month anniversary of the night I left Narc the "goodbye forever" note.
:-<
Friday, March 25, 2005
Falling off the Stallion
I think that Narc had it right a few months back when he told me that my life "is shit." Shit, shit shit. I was totally prepared for a night of sobriety and downtime tonight, but I guess it was not meant to be. (Well, don't get too worried-- I managed the sobriety, just not the downtime).
Here's the story:
I was really sleepy and laying in bed talking to B just three hours ago when I got a call on call-waiting. It was the Stallion. He wanted to hang out tonight, but I told him that I was too tired and really just wanted to take it easy. After hanging up with B, I was really ready to try this new idea--falling asleep at a regular hour, in my own bed, and with no toxins flowing through my veins! My plans, however, were disrupted. The phone rang again. Once again, it was the Stallion.
"C'mon, Hyde... I really really really wanna see you tonight."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really..."
"Well, it'll have to wait," I said. "What about tomorrow night? I'm not doing anything then..."
"Well..." he paused. "See, I can't do tomorrow. My girlfriend's coming into town for a while."
"Oh, the girlfriend? What's a while? A few days or is she moving here now?" I asked.
"Um, no... just a week or two, paying a visit kind of thing."
"Well, I don't know." (I was really feeling the downtime thing.) "I'm not much fun tonight. I'm not in 'excitement' mode."
"Girl, you don't have to be in any kind of 'mode;' you're excitement enough for me." He laughed. "As long as we don't get a repeat of last time..."
"What do you mean?" I asked. "What happened last time? Did I do anything bad?"
"Well, you were pretty bad," he said. I could tell he was uncomfortable.
"Why? What did I do? Or do I not want to know?"
"I don't think you want to know. For a while I was thinking about not getting back in touch with you, but now--I mean, c'mon, don't worry. I still want to come see ya, right?"
"Well, okay, I guess," I said. "I'll be at Cheers. Just meet me there..."
I threw on jeans, sneakers and a sweatshirt (didn't feel like dressing up for him) and headed to Cheers. I only ordered club sodas. Day one in my renewed daily attack on alcohol-related problems: pretty sweet, right? Anyway, for a while I wasn't much talking to anyone. IrishBird was trying to make conversation, but I felt pensive and closed and much too sober. It was already around 1:30 am. PumpedUp had a few friends at the bar who came out for his birthday. IrishBird brought out an ice cream cake and we sang. She said that PumpedUp was "chuffed" at the card I got him. (I'm not sure what she meant by that. Pretty sure it's a Britishism, and that it's a "good" thing, but can I get a translation, Flash?)
Anyway, at one point the Colombians came in. The one who always flirts with me came up to kiss me hello.
"Hey, what's up?" I asked.
"Oh, so now you know me?"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"What, you haven't seen me before?" His eyes were red. He seemed drunk. He was staring at me with a really strange and hostile expression. Was he joking though?
"Um, well, I'm new here," I said. (If this was a joke, I guess I should try to play along). "I've never been here before. The name's Hyde."
I extended my hand and he shook it. He was still staring at me with that awful look though.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" (The stare intensified even more) "What's wrong?"
"So you know me now? You certainly didn't know me last weekend."
Oh! I must have ignored him or something the night I was there with Anxious and the Stallion. If you recall, I reached my blackout point before we even got to Cheers. The only thing I remember from Cheers was that fall on my way to the bathroom.
"If you're talking about last Friday, I'm sorry, but I don't remember anything from that night. That was the night that I was here with my friend Anxious. I really don't remember. Sorry... So, sorry if I was rude to you. I really didn't mean it. I really didn't intend to be rude to you on any level."
"Anxious? No. You were not here with a girl-friend; you were here with a guy."
(What the fuck? Is he talking about the Stallion? Is he jealous? Am I not allowed to date people just because I've flirted with him? Do I have to explain myself to this guy because of THAT???)
"Yeah, that was another friend of mine, whatever..." I said. I turned and picked up my cell phone and started fiddling with the buttons, hoping he would get the point that I was done with the conversation and walk away. He just kept staring with those accusatory eyes. He swayed a bit, leaning into me and I realized how drunk he was. I did not want to have to put up with that shit.
"Well, I don't know what else you want me to say," I said. "I mean, what am I supposed to do about it? I said I was sorry!"
He walked away. Just then the Stallion came in. I didn't want any kind of scene between the flirty Colombian and the Stallion, especially if there had been some sort of tension the week before. I ran over to meet the Stallion at the door. He put his arms around me and started to kiss me. I guess I pulled back a little because he stepped back to see what was up and noticed the Colombians looking at us.
"Let's get out of here," I said.
"Yeah, let's," he agreed.
We left the bar and headed towards my place.
"Whatever... I don't know about that place, Hyde," he said, gesturing back towards Cheers. "I don't think you should hang out there in general."
"What? Why not?"
"Because they don't respect you there. Especially not when you act like an asshole like you did last week. I was pretty upset about it."
(Holy shit... My stomach lurched forward)
"What did I do?"
"Nah, don't worry about it. I just don't think they respect you there. You don't realize it, but you know-- there's people talking shit and all."
Just then, he decided to change tracks and just grabbed me and kissed me, picking me up in his arms and kissing me hard. We were right in front of my building and stood there on the street kissing for a good 5-10 minutes before going back to my place.
As soon as we were in the door he wanted to fuck. I don't know how I find these guys with absolutely NO patience. As soon as we started, though, I saw that this was different. He was pissed at me and this was ''grudge sex" for sure. He was so into that dynamic that it scared me for real for a few moments. I don't know... I wish I could tell you what I mean, but that's me-- You guys can tell how much I love to obsessively recount the details and give the play-by-play of every aspect of my life, but I'll spare your delicate sensibilities and not explain exactly how he "took out his grudge." Let's just put it this way--it was a very rough and very loaded encounter After round one "in the ring" was over, and I had collapsed from exhaustion, he decided to tell me what "awful sin" I was being punished for having committed the week before.
Basically, what he said was that I started "making out" with some other guy at Cheers right in front of him. What?!?!? How can that be? That does not sound like me at all. I mean, I talk a good game and I kiss guys here and there, but I haven't been with anyone except the Stallion and Narc in months and I don't "make out" with people in public.
"Who was this guy?" I asked.
"I don't know. You said that you had let him fuck you before. He was there with two girls, and um... He was a few inches taller than you... dressed all preppy, Upper East Side, you know?"
That doesn't fit the description of anyone I can think of.
"Are you sure? I can't believe I would do that! Where was Anxious at the time? Did she see?"
"Um, well I don't think that Anxious saw, no. But my friend Mike did." (I've already sent off an email to Anxious asking her to fill me in on what she knows. But I thought we dropped his friend off at a subway somewhere. I still had my memory then, so what the hell? Am I just losing my mind?)
"And the guys at Cheers-- C'mon, Hyde. They don't respect you. They were all like, 'oh, there goes Hyde, into her party mode. She's gettin' it on!' You shouldn't hang out there. I mean, every guy in there knows that if they get you shit-faced enough, they can take you home and fuck you."
"That's so unfair," I said. (Now it seemed like he was just trying to hurt my feelings. Was this all coming out of his stupid 'wounded pride?')
"Besides, Stallion-- So what if they think that. It's not true. I only have to live with myself and I'm comfortable and okay with my behavior. I don't owe a moral explanation to anyone, you know? Even still, though... I've only been with you and Narc--that's it--for months."
"Look, I'm just lookin' out for you, girl," he said. "I don't care what you do, I mean you don't have to explain yourself to me. You can live your life however you want, you know? I'm just worried about you, that's all. And it's not cool to hang out in a place where people are disrespecting you, so I'm just giving you a heads up."
"Whatever..." I rolled over. I hate being sober at night.
I had ten million thoughts racing through my mind.
"Well, I'm sorry I did that to you," I said. "It's so awful of me and I don't blame you for not wanting to go back there. I didn't mean to embarass you or disrespect you like that. I really didn't." (God, I'm an awful person... I manage to drive everyone away somehow.) "I don't know, Stallion. I don't know why... I mean, I don't ever want to treat people like that. I can't believe I could do that. I mean, what was I thinking?"
"I said something to you then," he told me, "but you were all like 'leave me the fuck alone; you have a girlfriend, so you have no right..."
"Yeah, but I still can't believe I would do that. I don't know. Maybe I was just angry. I just feel really tossed around lately. Like every guy will give me a little piece, but no one wants to offer me a package deal. It makes me feel like shit and I have trouble manifesting anger. I don't know." (Uh oh, Hyde... Stop yourself. Don't go all psycho-babble on him. He doesn't care why you did it, only that you embarassed him.)
I changed gears. "Listen, it doesn't matter at this point. I've already decided to try to cut the drinking."
"Well, you've got to do it for yourself," he said. "Otherwise, you let people think badly of you and talk shit about you."
"I know..."
We lay there for a while together, but I was unsettled. I was wide awake, my body tensed, and my mind racing over whatever memory I had left of that night.
"I see those wheels turning in your head," he said.
I felt very far away from him.
"Let's see what I can do to cheer you up..."
Then, lots more fucking. It distracted me for a few moments, but didn't "cheer me up." After it was over, he was clearly heading into sleep mode. He said he has to leave really early (like a 5:30 alarm--that's only an hour and a half away). I lay there for a while, but I couldn't sleep. I mean, I can't sleep. I don't want him in my bed right now, but I'm not about to kick him out. I don't want to be with him. I don't want to be with Narc right now either. I don't want to be with any of these men who are just fucking my body and discarding the rest of me. Then they turn around and criticize me for treating them the same way. I got up to come blog.
I mean, think about it. I tried to offer my heart and my soul to Narc. He rejected that package. He literally told me I should "move on." Last fall when I started telling him I wanted to be faithful to him, he repeatedly told me to "take other guys up on their offers." However, this past Sunday when I gently tried to bring up the condom issue for his benefit, he looked at me like I'm some kind of whore. Now the Stallion is on my back, telling me that I embarassed him and myself because once again, I'm just some kind of whore. (Well, they certainly both treat me that way!)
First of all, I am not. But second of all, even if I am, what does he expect? How the fuck did he meet me? From a one night stand in the bar. Does he want to take me out? Get to know me? Do anything that would show some regard for my humanity? No! He calls me for a "fuck and run;" He is the one "whoring around," cheating on a long-term committed relationship. Yes, it was awful and shitty of me to kiss someone else in front of him (if I even did that), but whatever. If I did it and I was that wasted, it was poor judgement and nothing more. Leave me the fuck alone, you know?
I don't know, guys. What do these men want from me? I'm giving them all the sex they ask for whenever and however they ask for it. They say that all they want is sex and nothing more. But that doesn't seem to be the case. Apparently that just means that they don't want to give anything else from themselves. As for me, well I'm just supposed to keep on giving. I'm supposed to be all devoted and exclusive and stroking their egos while Narc emotionally abuses me and the Stallion goes home to his girlfriend. What the fuck?!?!
UGHHH! I can't deal with these fucking double standards. Even the flirty Colombian (whom I've never had more than two or three conversations with) turned into an asshole when I showed up with another guy.
On top of that, I honestly can't think of anyone who meets the description of this elusive "guy I made out with." I'm having trouble believing that it happened. Maybe I didn't "make out" with anyone... Maybe I was just flirting, or being a little touchy feely with a friend or something. I can't wait until Anxious writes me back and can fill me in on all this a little.
I don't know. I'm fucking sick of all of this. I give and give and give, and what am I left with? Guys who have no respect for me at all, except perhaps as an entertaining sperm depository.
I feel like shit, and if I can't drink, I don't think I'm ever going to get a wink of sleep again.
Uh oh... The Stallion just came out here to see his "little insomniac." He wants another go at it.
A la Sunshine:
Lesson learned: I don't know... Apparently nothing learned since I'm going back in to fuck the Stallion, even though I just wrote an entire rant on how it degrades me. Will I ever learn my lesson? Sunshine, can you help me out here? Anyone?
-hyde
_________________________________________________
Alright... It's 9:45 am, the Stallion just left and I came out here to edit and post last night's insomniac entry. In the process, I got an "illuminating" email from Anxious. (Which makes me even more nervous about the Stallion's motives.)
She wrote:
Hi H,
Well, I wasn't keeping tabs on you, because that's not my style. But I wasn't drunk, either, and I didn't see you making out with anyone at all. I did see you talk to the Colombian guy (in the normal, friendly way) and I saw you fall down and that's the extent of what I saw you do. I think I would have noticed if you were making out with somebody else, but I guess it's technically possible that you kissed someone while I was in the bathroom or something. Or while I was kissing BulgarianGuy.
As for why the Colombian guy is mad at you-- I have no clue either. But are you sure he's referring to that particular night last week? Could it have been another night?
In terms of the Stallion's friend being there-- You know, although I wasn't particularly drunk, I wasn't paying too close attention at that point in the night. I dimly remember talking about dropping Mike off somewhere, and although I don't really remember exactly how it happened, I do recall that at some point he wasn't there anymore, and I agree with you -- I could've sworn he WASN'T at Cheers later that night. My last memory of him is in the taxi in Brooklyn, discussing where he was going to get dropped off. I really hate it when people use "disrespect" as a verb, and I can't imagine why the staff at Cheers would do that. They love you. They know you have problems, but so do they and most of the people who come in regularly and most of the world, so why the hell would they talk shit about you? That doesn't sound right to me.
Gee, I wish I could help more. But here's my overall take on things:
1. If you want me to keep on eye on you when we go out, knowing you may black out, tell me and I'll be more observant.
2. I don't think Mike was there at Cheers.
3. I don't think you kissed someone else, but given your advanced drunken state and my lack of attention, it's possible. However, why should the Stallion be preoccupied with it? He has a fiancee, for crying out loud.
4. It is possible that he is making some of this stuff up for some reason to make you feel bad, or guilt you into paying more attention to him, or something. Or it is possible that some of it did happen and you'll never know because you were too drunk. Blacking out is really scary, and it's an awful out-of-control feeling not to know what's been going on in your own life.
Stay calm, try to think positive thoughts, and only spend time with the people who make you feel good. If the Stallion starts giving you a hard time, tell him to quit or else.
Love you too :)
Anxious
WHAT DO YOU GUYS MAKE OF THAT?
IS THE STALLION A LIAR?
WHAT SHOULD I BELIEVE?
Here's the story:
I was really sleepy and laying in bed talking to B just three hours ago when I got a call on call-waiting. It was the Stallion. He wanted to hang out tonight, but I told him that I was too tired and really just wanted to take it easy. After hanging up with B, I was really ready to try this new idea--falling asleep at a regular hour, in my own bed, and with no toxins flowing through my veins! My plans, however, were disrupted. The phone rang again. Once again, it was the Stallion.
"C'mon, Hyde... I really really really wanna see you tonight."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really..."
"Well, it'll have to wait," I said. "What about tomorrow night? I'm not doing anything then..."
"Well..." he paused. "See, I can't do tomorrow. My girlfriend's coming into town for a while."
"Oh, the girlfriend? What's a while? A few days or is she moving here now?" I asked.
"Um, no... just a week or two, paying a visit kind of thing."
"Well, I don't know." (I was really feeling the downtime thing.) "I'm not much fun tonight. I'm not in 'excitement' mode."
"Girl, you don't have to be in any kind of 'mode;' you're excitement enough for me." He laughed. "As long as we don't get a repeat of last time..."
"What do you mean?" I asked. "What happened last time? Did I do anything bad?"
"Well, you were pretty bad," he said. I could tell he was uncomfortable.
"Why? What did I do? Or do I not want to know?"
"I don't think you want to know. For a while I was thinking about not getting back in touch with you, but now--I mean, c'mon, don't worry. I still want to come see ya, right?"
"Well, okay, I guess," I said. "I'll be at Cheers. Just meet me there..."
I threw on jeans, sneakers and a sweatshirt (didn't feel like dressing up for him) and headed to Cheers. I only ordered club sodas. Day one in my renewed daily attack on alcohol-related problems: pretty sweet, right? Anyway, for a while I wasn't much talking to anyone. IrishBird was trying to make conversation, but I felt pensive and closed and much too sober. It was already around 1:30 am. PumpedUp had a few friends at the bar who came out for his birthday. IrishBird brought out an ice cream cake and we sang. She said that PumpedUp was "chuffed" at the card I got him. (I'm not sure what she meant by that. Pretty sure it's a Britishism, and that it's a "good" thing, but can I get a translation, Flash?)
Anyway, at one point the Colombians came in. The one who always flirts with me came up to kiss me hello.
"Hey, what's up?" I asked.
"Oh, so now you know me?"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"What, you haven't seen me before?" His eyes were red. He seemed drunk. He was staring at me with a really strange and hostile expression. Was he joking though?
"Um, well, I'm new here," I said. (If this was a joke, I guess I should try to play along). "I've never been here before. The name's Hyde."
I extended my hand and he shook it. He was still staring at me with that awful look though.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" (The stare intensified even more) "What's wrong?"
"So you know me now? You certainly didn't know me last weekend."
Oh! I must have ignored him or something the night I was there with Anxious and the Stallion. If you recall, I reached my blackout point before we even got to Cheers. The only thing I remember from Cheers was that fall on my way to the bathroom.
"If you're talking about last Friday, I'm sorry, but I don't remember anything from that night. That was the night that I was here with my friend Anxious. I really don't remember. Sorry... So, sorry if I was rude to you. I really didn't mean it. I really didn't intend to be rude to you on any level."
"Anxious? No. You were not here with a girl-friend; you were here with a guy."
(What the fuck? Is he talking about the Stallion? Is he jealous? Am I not allowed to date people just because I've flirted with him? Do I have to explain myself to this guy because of THAT???)
"Yeah, that was another friend of mine, whatever..." I said. I turned and picked up my cell phone and started fiddling with the buttons, hoping he would get the point that I was done with the conversation and walk away. He just kept staring with those accusatory eyes. He swayed a bit, leaning into me and I realized how drunk he was. I did not want to have to put up with that shit.
"Well, I don't know what else you want me to say," I said. "I mean, what am I supposed to do about it? I said I was sorry!"
He walked away. Just then the Stallion came in. I didn't want any kind of scene between the flirty Colombian and the Stallion, especially if there had been some sort of tension the week before. I ran over to meet the Stallion at the door. He put his arms around me and started to kiss me. I guess I pulled back a little because he stepped back to see what was up and noticed the Colombians looking at us.
"Let's get out of here," I said.
"Yeah, let's," he agreed.
We left the bar and headed towards my place.
"Whatever... I don't know about that place, Hyde," he said, gesturing back towards Cheers. "I don't think you should hang out there in general."
"What? Why not?"
"Because they don't respect you there. Especially not when you act like an asshole like you did last week. I was pretty upset about it."
(Holy shit... My stomach lurched forward)
"What did I do?"
"Nah, don't worry about it. I just don't think they respect you there. You don't realize it, but you know-- there's people talking shit and all."
Just then, he decided to change tracks and just grabbed me and kissed me, picking me up in his arms and kissing me hard. We were right in front of my building and stood there on the street kissing for a good 5-10 minutes before going back to my place.
As soon as we were in the door he wanted to fuck. I don't know how I find these guys with absolutely NO patience. As soon as we started, though, I saw that this was different. He was pissed at me and this was ''grudge sex" for sure. He was so into that dynamic that it scared me for real for a few moments. I don't know... I wish I could tell you what I mean, but that's me-- You guys can tell how much I love to obsessively recount the details and give the play-by-play of every aspect of my life, but I'll spare your delicate sensibilities and not explain exactly how he "took out his grudge." Let's just put it this way--it was a very rough and very loaded encounter After round one "in the ring" was over, and I had collapsed from exhaustion, he decided to tell me what "awful sin" I was being punished for having committed the week before.
Basically, what he said was that I started "making out" with some other guy at Cheers right in front of him. What?!?!? How can that be? That does not sound like me at all. I mean, I talk a good game and I kiss guys here and there, but I haven't been with anyone except the Stallion and Narc in months and I don't "make out" with people in public.
"Who was this guy?" I asked.
"I don't know. You said that you had let him fuck you before. He was there with two girls, and um... He was a few inches taller than you... dressed all preppy, Upper East Side, you know?"
That doesn't fit the description of anyone I can think of.
"Are you sure? I can't believe I would do that! Where was Anxious at the time? Did she see?"
"Um, well I don't think that Anxious saw, no. But my friend Mike did." (I've already sent off an email to Anxious asking her to fill me in on what she knows. But I thought we dropped his friend off at a subway somewhere. I still had my memory then, so what the hell? Am I just losing my mind?)
"And the guys at Cheers-- C'mon, Hyde. They don't respect you. They were all like, 'oh, there goes Hyde, into her party mode. She's gettin' it on!' You shouldn't hang out there. I mean, every guy in there knows that if they get you shit-faced enough, they can take you home and fuck you."
"That's so unfair," I said. (Now it seemed like he was just trying to hurt my feelings. Was this all coming out of his stupid 'wounded pride?')
"Besides, Stallion-- So what if they think that. It's not true. I only have to live with myself and I'm comfortable and okay with my behavior. I don't owe a moral explanation to anyone, you know? Even still, though... I've only been with you and Narc--that's it--for months."
"Look, I'm just lookin' out for you, girl," he said. "I don't care what you do, I mean you don't have to explain yourself to me. You can live your life however you want, you know? I'm just worried about you, that's all. And it's not cool to hang out in a place where people are disrespecting you, so I'm just giving you a heads up."
"Whatever..." I rolled over. I hate being sober at night.
I had ten million thoughts racing through my mind.
"Well, I'm sorry I did that to you," I said. "It's so awful of me and I don't blame you for not wanting to go back there. I didn't mean to embarass you or disrespect you like that. I really didn't." (God, I'm an awful person... I manage to drive everyone away somehow.) "I don't know, Stallion. I don't know why... I mean, I don't ever want to treat people like that. I can't believe I could do that. I mean, what was I thinking?"
"I said something to you then," he told me, "but you were all like 'leave me the fuck alone; you have a girlfriend, so you have no right..."
"Yeah, but I still can't believe I would do that. I don't know. Maybe I was just angry. I just feel really tossed around lately. Like every guy will give me a little piece, but no one wants to offer me a package deal. It makes me feel like shit and I have trouble manifesting anger. I don't know." (Uh oh, Hyde... Stop yourself. Don't go all psycho-babble on him. He doesn't care why you did it, only that you embarassed him.)
I changed gears. "Listen, it doesn't matter at this point. I've already decided to try to cut the drinking."
"Well, you've got to do it for yourself," he said. "Otherwise, you let people think badly of you and talk shit about you."
"I know..."
We lay there for a while together, but I was unsettled. I was wide awake, my body tensed, and my mind racing over whatever memory I had left of that night.
"I see those wheels turning in your head," he said.
I felt very far away from him.
"Let's see what I can do to cheer you up..."
Then, lots more fucking. It distracted me for a few moments, but didn't "cheer me up." After it was over, he was clearly heading into sleep mode. He said he has to leave really early (like a 5:30 alarm--that's only an hour and a half away). I lay there for a while, but I couldn't sleep. I mean, I can't sleep. I don't want him in my bed right now, but I'm not about to kick him out. I don't want to be with him. I don't want to be with Narc right now either. I don't want to be with any of these men who are just fucking my body and discarding the rest of me. Then they turn around and criticize me for treating them the same way. I got up to come blog.
I mean, think about it. I tried to offer my heart and my soul to Narc. He rejected that package. He literally told me I should "move on." Last fall when I started telling him I wanted to be faithful to him, he repeatedly told me to "take other guys up on their offers." However, this past Sunday when I gently tried to bring up the condom issue for his benefit, he looked at me like I'm some kind of whore. Now the Stallion is on my back, telling me that I embarassed him and myself because once again, I'm just some kind of whore. (Well, they certainly both treat me that way!)
First of all, I am not. But second of all, even if I am, what does he expect? How the fuck did he meet me? From a one night stand in the bar. Does he want to take me out? Get to know me? Do anything that would show some regard for my humanity? No! He calls me for a "fuck and run;" He is the one "whoring around," cheating on a long-term committed relationship. Yes, it was awful and shitty of me to kiss someone else in front of him (if I even did that), but whatever. If I did it and I was that wasted, it was poor judgement and nothing more. Leave me the fuck alone, you know?
I don't know, guys. What do these men want from me? I'm giving them all the sex they ask for whenever and however they ask for it. They say that all they want is sex and nothing more. But that doesn't seem to be the case. Apparently that just means that they don't want to give anything else from themselves. As for me, well I'm just supposed to keep on giving. I'm supposed to be all devoted and exclusive and stroking their egos while Narc emotionally abuses me and the Stallion goes home to his girlfriend. What the fuck?!?!
UGHHH! I can't deal with these fucking double standards. Even the flirty Colombian (whom I've never had more than two or three conversations with) turned into an asshole when I showed up with another guy.
On top of that, I honestly can't think of anyone who meets the description of this elusive "guy I made out with." I'm having trouble believing that it happened. Maybe I didn't "make out" with anyone... Maybe I was just flirting, or being a little touchy feely with a friend or something. I can't wait until Anxious writes me back and can fill me in on all this a little.
I don't know. I'm fucking sick of all of this. I give and give and give, and what am I left with? Guys who have no respect for me at all, except perhaps as an entertaining sperm depository.
I feel like shit, and if I can't drink, I don't think I'm ever going to get a wink of sleep again.
Uh oh... The Stallion just came out here to see his "little insomniac." He wants another go at it.
A la Sunshine:
Lesson learned: I don't know... Apparently nothing learned since I'm going back in to fuck the Stallion, even though I just wrote an entire rant on how it degrades me. Will I ever learn my lesson? Sunshine, can you help me out here? Anyone?
-hyde
_________________________________________________
Alright... It's 9:45 am, the Stallion just left and I came out here to edit and post last night's insomniac entry. In the process, I got an "illuminating" email from Anxious. (Which makes me even more nervous about the Stallion's motives.)
She wrote:
Hi H,
Well, I wasn't keeping tabs on you, because that's not my style. But I wasn't drunk, either, and I didn't see you making out with anyone at all. I did see you talk to the Colombian guy (in the normal, friendly way) and I saw you fall down and that's the extent of what I saw you do. I think I would have noticed if you were making out with somebody else, but I guess it's technically possible that you kissed someone while I was in the bathroom or something. Or while I was kissing BulgarianGuy.
As for why the Colombian guy is mad at you-- I have no clue either. But are you sure he's referring to that particular night last week? Could it have been another night?
In terms of the Stallion's friend being there-- You know, although I wasn't particularly drunk, I wasn't paying too close attention at that point in the night. I dimly remember talking about dropping Mike off somewhere, and although I don't really remember exactly how it happened, I do recall that at some point he wasn't there anymore, and I agree with you -- I could've sworn he WASN'T at Cheers later that night. My last memory of him is in the taxi in Brooklyn, discussing where he was going to get dropped off. I really hate it when people use "disrespect" as a verb, and I can't imagine why the staff at Cheers would do that. They love you. They know you have problems, but so do they and most of the people who come in regularly and most of the world, so why the hell would they talk shit about you? That doesn't sound right to me.
Gee, I wish I could help more. But here's my overall take on things:
1. If you want me to keep on eye on you when we go out, knowing you may black out, tell me and I'll be more observant.
2. I don't think Mike was there at Cheers.
3. I don't think you kissed someone else, but given your advanced drunken state and my lack of attention, it's possible. However, why should the Stallion be preoccupied with it? He has a fiancee, for crying out loud.
4. It is possible that he is making some of this stuff up for some reason to make you feel bad, or guilt you into paying more attention to him, or something. Or it is possible that some of it did happen and you'll never know because you were too drunk. Blacking out is really scary, and it's an awful out-of-control feeling not to know what's been going on in your own life.
Stay calm, try to think positive thoughts, and only spend time with the people who make you feel good. If the Stallion starts giving you a hard time, tell him to quit or else.
Love you too :)
Anxious
WHAT DO YOU GUYS MAKE OF THAT?
IS THE STALLION A LIAR?
WHAT SHOULD I BELIEVE?
Thursday, March 24, 2005
One More Thing...
One more thing... I just dropped into Cheers (for five minutes, no drinks) because it's PumpedUp's birthday today and I bought him a little box of chocolates and got him a card. IrishBird told me that the Wall Street guy had just been in there. He said that he was looking for me. She asked him if he wanted my number to call me, and he said "well, I just talked to her..." Huh? Why would he lie about that? Anyway, I told IrishBird earlier today that I had that police badge. She said that she mentioned it to him and he said that it's his. He also told her that he got ripped off last night--lost all his money. He must have had a few thousand dollars rolled up in that stack he kept flashing, so I'm not surprised. I do feel for him though. It reminds me of the time that I got "mugged" and lost nearly $360 worth of "medicine." It sucked.
And by the way, I did it... I confronted my therapist with this whole drinking thing and told her that I need her help. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, but I don't think it's going to be entirely smooth sailing either.
Flash and Sunshine, thanks so much for the support in your comments! It really helps to not feel stupid and like this is all my fault. Anyway, hopefully I won't have to go cold turkey, so we can still party when the two of you are in NY. The end of May seems light-years away, and who the fuck knows how things will be then.
Later...
-Hyde
And by the way, I did it... I confronted my therapist with this whole drinking thing and told her that I need her help. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, but I don't think it's going to be entirely smooth sailing either.
Flash and Sunshine, thanks so much for the support in your comments! It really helps to not feel stupid and like this is all my fault. Anyway, hopefully I won't have to go cold turkey, so we can still party when the two of you are in NY. The end of May seems light-years away, and who the fuck knows how things will be then.
Later...
-Hyde
Don't Know How...
Ugghhh! I was a bad girl last night. Yet again... I hate myself sometimes. My beautiful cat is being a maniac right now and leaping all over the place. At least he loves me!
Before things went wrong, yesterday was actually a really productive day for me. I taught, went to a department luncheon for prospective students, and spent three hours in the library. I came home, did some more reading, and spoke to Sunshine on the phone for about an hour. Then I ate dinner and headed to Cheers. I like going there on weeknights when it's quiet. I hung out with BarMan for most of the time... IrishBird too.
Two of the FourthFloor girls were there. They told me that they had just been at a "Click at a Flick" event. They didn't know it was a singles event (they both have boyfriends). Basically, you show up at those things, buy a movie ticket, enjoy a two hour open bar (with "facilitators" around to help the akward conversation) and then go watch the movie. I've never been to one, but have heard about them. They said they met a really nice guy and thought of me--that he would be a good match for me. First of all, that's TOTALLY weird because I hardly know these girls; second of all, they gave me the guy's business card. Do they think I'm going to call an absolute stranger who didn't even give me his card himself?
Anyway, I told them as much and they said they would invite him to Cheers sometime and then I could just "show up" and meet him. That I agreed to, but I still think the whole thing was a little strange. Like I said--I've only seen these girls once or twice in the past three months!
I was getting pretty drunk. Later, after the FourthFloor girls left, a couple sitting at a nearby table asked IrishBird what happened to their table service.
"Sorry, table service is over," she said. "You'll have to come up to the bar."
"I can bring them a drink, I don't care," I told her.
"No. C'mon Hyde, you don't work here..."
I got up anyway and asked the couple what they wanted. The man was a little rude, acted as if I were a waitress and was very dismissive. I took their order to IrishBird anyway.
"No! I told you they had to come up here on their own." She looked irritated.
BarMan smiled at me. "It's okay Hyde, you're heart was in the right place, but leave it alone."
She pulled me aside a few minutes later.
"Listen, Hyde. Everything we do here, we do for a reason," she said. "Please don't disrespect me and go on and do something like that again."
She kept on, being pretty harsh on me. Why would she think I don't respect her? I felt like she hates me. I felt like I'm disappointing everyone right and left... Not good enough for anyone. It was a punch in the stomach.
"Of course I respect you," I said. "Sorry."
I have been so on edge lately. Like I said in my last post--I'm living on the verge of tears. Maybe that's what I should change the name of my blog to--"on the verge of tears." I couldn't keep my emotions in check so I got up and went into the bathroom. I sat down on the edge of the toilet and started to cry. I had to constantly dab at my cheeks and under my eyes so that my eyemakeup wouldn't run. Finally, I composed myself enough to go out. I flipped open my cell phone to pretend that I had gone into the bathroom to make a phone call where it was more quiet. Coming out of the bathroom, I bumped into IrishBird on the way in. She was looking for me. I got the feeling that BarMan told her she had upset me.
"I didn't mean to be harsh on you, Hyde. It's just that those people have a habit of walking out on their tab. I needed to keep an eye on them--pay as they go kind of thing. I'm a nice person. I take care of my customers. I had a reason for it, that's all..."
"No, it's totally fine," I said.
"Well, you look upset."
"I'm upset about something else...I was just arguing with my friend on the phone, that's all."
I walked back over to the bar and she followed me.
"It's fine," I said. "I was just talking to B and he gets mad at me when I drink, that's all."
I couldn't help it though. I started to cry again. IrishBird gave me a big hug and started to wipe away my tears.
"What's wrong, Hyde?" BarMan asked.
"Nothing... Nothing. I mean, I don't know... I just feel like I can't do it lately. Like I don't kow how-- Well, maybe it's just that I'm not a good person. Nothing I do is good enough or the right thing, you know?" (I guess I was thinking of Narc among other things. I've just been overwhelmed lately.)
"Don't be silly," IrishBird hugged me again.
I did my best to pull myself together. They started making jokes so that I would laugh.
Later on in the evening, it was just me and a few boys left at the bar. IrishBird wanted me to reprise my opera concert from last Wednesday so that BarMan could hear me. I was wasted, but I ran home and got my music. One of the guys there fell for me after hearing me sing. He was a total wall-street/frat-boy type, flashing wads of $100's. He came over and asked me to leave with him. IrishBird pulled me aside and told me that he has a girlfriend. I asked for my check. It was over $50.00. The guy paid for the whole thing. Okay...
I left with him and he started kissing me in the cab and telling me how "beautiful" I am when I sing. We went to some bar up on 84th street. I was wasted. I hardly remember anything. I don't remember getting home. IrishBird called me this morning and said she called to check on me last night. When I answered the phone last night, I was so wasted I couldn't really talk at all. She said that I had passed the phone off to the Wall Street guy. She asked him if I was okay and he said that he promised to get me home safely.
This morning I had a blood test scheduled (for my blood sugar stuff). I slept through it, but did make it up to teach (despite the lingering drunkeness). I couldn't find my cell phone or my key anywhere. Later I found the phone with the doorman. Someone had found it in the hall and turned it in over there.
Today I found in my pocket an honorary police badge issued to the brother of someone who died in 9/11. Don't know how it got there or whose it is. Does it belong to the wall street guy? Or was I talking to someone else? At least I didn't fuck anyone last night.
I have to go to therapy in an hour. I have to confront my drinking problem. I might be ready to say that I'm an alcoholic, but I can't. I just can't do this anymore. I feel like my body betrays me. I mean, I didn't ask for this. I don't want it at all. The issue is just so loaded for me. I feel like a failure. I don't want to confront that. I don't want to be weak or to have failed. I want to be able to fix this on my own. Last night I told BarMan that I think I might be an alcoholic and he said "Um, yea! You think?" laughingly. He's concerned though. IrishBird is concerned. Hammer has told me that she's concerned. B is concerned more than anyone. He said that he's known it for a long time. It cemented in his head that week back in September when I slept "in the gutter" and still didn't change my ways.
My eyes are stinging.
My head hurts.
I don't know how to do this...
I don't know how...
Before things went wrong, yesterday was actually a really productive day for me. I taught, went to a department luncheon for prospective students, and spent three hours in the library. I came home, did some more reading, and spoke to Sunshine on the phone for about an hour. Then I ate dinner and headed to Cheers. I like going there on weeknights when it's quiet. I hung out with BarMan for most of the time... IrishBird too.
Two of the FourthFloor girls were there. They told me that they had just been at a "Click at a Flick" event. They didn't know it was a singles event (they both have boyfriends). Basically, you show up at those things, buy a movie ticket, enjoy a two hour open bar (with "facilitators" around to help the akward conversation) and then go watch the movie. I've never been to one, but have heard about them. They said they met a really nice guy and thought of me--that he would be a good match for me. First of all, that's TOTALLY weird because I hardly know these girls; second of all, they gave me the guy's business card. Do they think I'm going to call an absolute stranger who didn't even give me his card himself?
Anyway, I told them as much and they said they would invite him to Cheers sometime and then I could just "show up" and meet him. That I agreed to, but I still think the whole thing was a little strange. Like I said--I've only seen these girls once or twice in the past three months!
I was getting pretty drunk. Later, after the FourthFloor girls left, a couple sitting at a nearby table asked IrishBird what happened to their table service.
"Sorry, table service is over," she said. "You'll have to come up to the bar."
"I can bring them a drink, I don't care," I told her.
"No. C'mon Hyde, you don't work here..."
I got up anyway and asked the couple what they wanted. The man was a little rude, acted as if I were a waitress and was very dismissive. I took their order to IrishBird anyway.
"No! I told you they had to come up here on their own." She looked irritated.
BarMan smiled at me. "It's okay Hyde, you're heart was in the right place, but leave it alone."
She pulled me aside a few minutes later.
"Listen, Hyde. Everything we do here, we do for a reason," she said. "Please don't disrespect me and go on and do something like that again."
She kept on, being pretty harsh on me. Why would she think I don't respect her? I felt like she hates me. I felt like I'm disappointing everyone right and left... Not good enough for anyone. It was a punch in the stomach.
"Of course I respect you," I said. "Sorry."
I have been so on edge lately. Like I said in my last post--I'm living on the verge of tears. Maybe that's what I should change the name of my blog to--"on the verge of tears." I couldn't keep my emotions in check so I got up and went into the bathroom. I sat down on the edge of the toilet and started to cry. I had to constantly dab at my cheeks and under my eyes so that my eyemakeup wouldn't run. Finally, I composed myself enough to go out. I flipped open my cell phone to pretend that I had gone into the bathroom to make a phone call where it was more quiet. Coming out of the bathroom, I bumped into IrishBird on the way in. She was looking for me. I got the feeling that BarMan told her she had upset me.
"I didn't mean to be harsh on you, Hyde. It's just that those people have a habit of walking out on their tab. I needed to keep an eye on them--pay as they go kind of thing. I'm a nice person. I take care of my customers. I had a reason for it, that's all..."
"No, it's totally fine," I said.
"Well, you look upset."
"I'm upset about something else...I was just arguing with my friend on the phone, that's all."
I walked back over to the bar and she followed me.
"It's fine," I said. "I was just talking to B and he gets mad at me when I drink, that's all."
I couldn't help it though. I started to cry again. IrishBird gave me a big hug and started to wipe away my tears.
"What's wrong, Hyde?" BarMan asked.
"Nothing... Nothing. I mean, I don't know... I just feel like I can't do it lately. Like I don't kow how-- Well, maybe it's just that I'm not a good person. Nothing I do is good enough or the right thing, you know?" (I guess I was thinking of Narc among other things. I've just been overwhelmed lately.)
"Don't be silly," IrishBird hugged me again.
I did my best to pull myself together. They started making jokes so that I would laugh.
Later on in the evening, it was just me and a few boys left at the bar. IrishBird wanted me to reprise my opera concert from last Wednesday so that BarMan could hear me. I was wasted, but I ran home and got my music. One of the guys there fell for me after hearing me sing. He was a total wall-street/frat-boy type, flashing wads of $100's. He came over and asked me to leave with him. IrishBird pulled me aside and told me that he has a girlfriend. I asked for my check. It was over $50.00. The guy paid for the whole thing. Okay...
I left with him and he started kissing me in the cab and telling me how "beautiful" I am when I sing. We went to some bar up on 84th street. I was wasted. I hardly remember anything. I don't remember getting home. IrishBird called me this morning and said she called to check on me last night. When I answered the phone last night, I was so wasted I couldn't really talk at all. She said that I had passed the phone off to the Wall Street guy. She asked him if I was okay and he said that he promised to get me home safely.
This morning I had a blood test scheduled (for my blood sugar stuff). I slept through it, but did make it up to teach (despite the lingering drunkeness). I couldn't find my cell phone or my key anywhere. Later I found the phone with the doorman. Someone had found it in the hall and turned it in over there.
Today I found in my pocket an honorary police badge issued to the brother of someone who died in 9/11. Don't know how it got there or whose it is. Does it belong to the wall street guy? Or was I talking to someone else? At least I didn't fuck anyone last night.
I have to go to therapy in an hour. I have to confront my drinking problem. I might be ready to say that I'm an alcoholic, but I can't. I just can't do this anymore. I feel like my body betrays me. I mean, I didn't ask for this. I don't want it at all. The issue is just so loaded for me. I feel like a failure. I don't want to confront that. I don't want to be weak or to have failed. I want to be able to fix this on my own. Last night I told BarMan that I think I might be an alcoholic and he said "Um, yea! You think?" laughingly. He's concerned though. IrishBird is concerned. Hammer has told me that she's concerned. B is concerned more than anyone. He said that he's known it for a long time. It cemented in his head that week back in September when I slept "in the gutter" and still didn't change my ways.
My eyes are stinging.
My head hurts.
I don't know how to do this...
I don't know how...
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Monday, March 21, 2005
Saturdy and Sunday's Fireworks: The Second Half of the Weekend
First of all a disclaimer: This post turned out SO fucking long, that I don't have the time or energy to proof-read it, so pardon any major mistakes. Also, there are a few transgressions from the main story, so I hope you make it all the way through...
Enjoy!
*******
Okay, I left you guys off when NextDoorNeighbor and Anxious were at my place and I was getting ready to meet Hammer. Well, I was supposed to meet Hammer at 7:30, but when I got to Lincoln Center, she hadn't yet arrived. I stood there waiting and waiting and waiting, staring at the same fountain where I had sat all afternoon the day I was stood up by Narc. It totally brought me back to that place in my head and I was getting more and more upset the longer I waited. Hammer finally appeared at 7:55 and we rushed to our seats. She said she had some problem on the subway. My anger at the waiting-incident was soon forgotten.
Anyway, the opera (or operetta) was really quite entertaining, although the plot has very little to propel it forward dramatically. But I've performed so many pieces from Candide in various theater groups and choirs in the past that a lot of it was already very familiar to me and that was cool. We were sitting pretty high up in the fourth ring, next to an annoying woman who kept coughing. At the intermission, Hammer wanted to change seats. We tried venturing down to the second ring in order to steal seats there, but the hyper-vigilant ushers admonishingly returned us to our place among the plebians in the fourth ring.
We did manage to move down to the front row of the fourth ring though, on the right side up against the balcony. From our new seats, looking down into the third ring, we had a perfect view of B and his new girlfriend. While B says he didn't see us sitting up there, Hammer swears she made eye contact with him. Honestly, I didn't want to look at them both because I felt uncomfortable invading their privacy, but moreso because the one glimpse I did catch of them made me feel nauseated, sick, weak, and brought me to the verge of tears. Why dredge up all of that old shit again? It's clearly not yet "history" for me yet, and that wasn't the night to deal with it.
After the show, Hammer and I met the Wizard across the street at Fiorello's where we shared some delicious food and an "exciting" bottle of wine (at least according to our waiter). The Wizard entertained us with stories of his LSD experience in the Metropolitan Museum. He told how willingly made the statues breathe wtih life, and of a sprightly little girl who appeared out of nowhere and danced in front of him, disappearing just as quickly. Pretty fucking strange. I don't think I'd ever have the guts to try LSD. I'm sure I'd have a bad trip. I tend to get bad-emotional when I'm too fucked up. Anyway, from there, Hammer and the Wizard headed their way and I hopped into a cab heading to Cheers.
When I arrived at Cheers, BulgarianGuy was outside smoking. He smiled when he saw me and gave me a hug and a kiss.
"Long time, no see," I said.
He invited me inside and offered to buy me a drink. The two of us got pretty wasted together. I went up and sang a few songs on karaoke.
But suddenly--YUCK!
I was subjected to an awful, terrible, miserable reminder from the past. In walked the most slimy, gross, sniveling, asshole that I've ever known. Who was it? DateRapeGuy!
I hadn't seen him in months and thought that he had been "banned" from Cheers, but I guess not. It's weird...I was just talking about him the other day when for some reason I told this story to Sunshine.
Anyway, to put this all in perspective, I have to give you a little context. (Please pardon the departure from my account of the weekend's events). I met DateRapeGuy back in August. He was a Friday night regular at Cheers and was always offering to buy me drinks. I never liked him. In fact, I always found him to be a whining, irritating, know-it-all bastard, yet while I always tried to dodge his conversation, if I got stuck talking to him, I was always very polite. Once in October or November he referred to us as "friends."
"Friends?" I said. "We're not friends. We're just acquaintances."
Anyway, the first week in December was a rough time for me. Things were coming to a head between me and Narc, and after some very intense and loving times, Narc was pulling his usual asshole shit. On December 3rd, I wrote him a very heartfelt email. I'm including it below (but you can skip over it if you don't feel like reading it. It’s not particularly integral to the story):
*******************
Hi Narc,
I know I just left your place a few hours ago, but after my therapy and some thought, I feel like my head has cleared a bit and there are a few things we still need to talk about. While it would be ideal to have this discussion in person, I sometimes have difficulty asserting my rational side when I'm with you. Instead, the immediacy of the situation always leads me to steer by impulse and emotion. So I'm sending you this email because there are a few things I need to get off my mind.
As you know, navigating our relationship has been emotionally confusing for me. After an initial period of guarding myself, I began let down those walls and invest my feelings in you. This has left me feeling incredibly vulnerable because there is nothing concrete, safe or stable about our relationship. In your message to me on Wednesday night, you said that you had a revelation, that you wanted to "renegotiate" our relationship and that you've been "very very unfair" to me thus far and that you'd "like to make up for that." Since the past is in the past, I don't think there's any point in "making up" for things that have already happened, but I'm wondering if you really meant what you said. Last night when we spoke something you said struck me in particular. You said that you need to direct your own life, and direct how you approach me in order to conquer past problems of just "drifting" into destructive relationships. While I completely understand where you're coming from, what bothers me about this whole equation, is that I don't understand how my needs can play a role in this. If you think you've been unfair to me, I wish that you'd listen to what I've been asking of you. I'm still not sure that you've been hearing me.
Last night you spoke about repeated negative patterns (I think you called it a shadow-self or something). I have my own set of negative patterns as well, one of which is to get involved with people who are emotionally withholding. What I usually do in this instance is to wait. I end up stuck in this "waiting game," waiting and waiting and waiting for my partner to "be able" to address my emotional needs as well as his own. I know that because I willingly engage in this, it is my own responsibility, but even so, it is exhausting and depressing and really bad for my self esteem in general. Like you, I don't want to make the same mistakes over and over. Like you, I want to take responsibility for my actions and not just act based on impulse and need. In light of that, I want to tell you again what I "need" from you if we are going to continue to engage each other.
First and foremost, I feel like I need to get my whole life into order right now. Something clicked in my head this week and I want to end this spiral of self-destructive behavior. I have been abusing my body and disregarding my emotions for quite a few months now. I know that this "self-destructive" thing is the only mode you've known me in, but it really is only one facet of my personality that has taken on a life of its own and has started to deplete the other parts of my life. I am just plain exhausted. I can't keep burning the candle at both ends. I'm also scared of my problems with alcohol in light of the fact that alcohol is what killed my dad. I think that at some point moderation is a goal, but I need to stop drinking on a regular basis right now. What I want is to slow down the speed of my life and not focus it around drinking. I want to create a nurturing and stable environment for myself. I think that our pattern of unplanned meetings in the middle of the night contributes to the overall chaos I'm struggling against.
I'm not sure if what I want is a "relationship" based on love. The other day told me that I can't possibly love you because I don't even know you. Clearly we haven't had the chance to get to know each other. We might find that after spending a lot of time together that we are not even all that compatible. While I'm not sure what will happen, I agree with you that our behavior patterns have to change. I need you to be something steadier in my life if you're going to be there at all.
I've told you before that I have strong feelings for you, and I do. But I don't know if those feelings are based on need or love and I have no way of finding out unless we change things between us. Take the time you need to figure out what you want and what you are willing to offer, but as a minimum, I also need to restore my emotional health.
Bottom line, here's what I'd like from you: I'd like it if we could plan our meetings clearly in advance; I'd like it if our activities didn't only focus on drinking and/or sex ; I'd like to really try to get to know each other in the other aspects of our lives.
I guess that's it for now. Give me a call if you want to talk or just hang out, but don't call in the middle of the night. My birthday is next Sunday, and as a birthday present to myself, I'm ready to do a little growing up.
Sorry if this letter got too long. Hope you have a good day!!!
Lots of love,
Hyde
******************
Needless to say, Narc never sent me a response. Six days later (and after some sad drunken phone calls) I sent him the following follow-up message:
*******************
Hi,
I'm writing primarily to apologize for flooding you with messages last night. I'm sure it was at the very least annoying and I really don't mean to be a nuisance. I'm pretty upset with myself for the weakness of my resolve both to avoid alcohol and to "play it cool" with you. But honestly, I'm tired of trying to fit things into boxes; and I've already spilled enough of myself to you that I'm not afraid to be honest anymore. In a strange way, although nothing is resolved between us, I think I finally "trust" you.
I don't know how much need there is for explanation. I think it's pretty clear to you that the ambiguity in our relationship is really difficult for me to manage. I've been feeling very sad for the past few days--an aching sadness that stems from frustration. I'm frustrated because I feel such tenderness for you, yet it's a love that you don't want. At least, that's all I've been able to draw from your recent silence on the matter.
I know that I can be hyperbolic, but I can't help that. My heart is full right now. It's brimming with both love and sadness and I don't know what to do about it. I just can't be in this place anymore... I guess I'd rather that you be direct and tell me to go away than to do it with your silence. I mean, when I sent you that email last week I opened myself up to you. Since you haven't replied, I have to wonder whether you regard my feelings at all. I know that you care for me, but I can't understand you.
I don't know... I just know that I've been thinking about you and wondering about you and all of this is weighing on me. I have so much going on work-wise right now that I have to attend to, but my heart isn't there...it's with you. But I don't want to write another email so long that you won't read it. And I don't want to sound like a "Bronte character" either. So I guess I should stop now. I just wanted to apologize for last night, to be honest about where I am, and to make one last plea for us to change our style of interaction.
So that's it. I'm going to try not to call you anymore unless we can really deal with some of this. It's starting to hurt me, that's all. I just hope that you find your happiness. I mean it Narc--I wish that for you most of all.
Take care,
Hyde
************
That letter was sent on December 9th. On Friday, December 10th, I was out at Cheers late (and drunk as usual) when I received an equally drunk "come fuck me" call from Narc. I was already very upset about the whole situation with him not responding to my intense letters, and I was feeling hyper-emotional about everything. I asked him why he had never responded and how could he ever expect me to "come fuck him" in light of the given circumstances. If he wanted to fuck me, the very least he could do would be to pretend to care, or offer to come up to my place for once! Anyway, we were calling and yelling and hanging up on each other a lot, and there were a lot of "fuck you's" flying in both directions, accompanied by a sea of tears on my part.
DateRapeGuy was there that night, and offered to buy me drinks. I told Narc on the phone that he could "go fuck himself b/c some other guy was buying me drinks," etc. DateRapeGuy was nice about the whole thing and listened to me whine about Narc the whole night long. When Cheers was closing (around 4:00 or 4:30), I was even more drunk, still trading upset phone calls with Narc and not wanting to be alone. I invited DateRapeGuy back to my house to do some "medicine" or smoke up or something. He accepted.
Back at my place, the fighting with Narc continued. Of course I had to tell him that I had a guy at my place. It infuriated him, exactly as I had intended. I had no intention, however, of hooking up with DateRapeGuy, and that must have been perfectly clear because he made no attempt to touch me.
But as the night turned to morning, I got higher and higher. After about seven hours of cutting lines, I started to crash beyond belief. My head was pounding and spinning, my heart fluttered, my legs felt like jelly and my eyes wouldn't focus. I felt like I was floating out of my body and was falling into a black hole that was both terrifying and endless. It was so bad that I will never be able to adequately explain it. I think I must have been freaking out about it because DateRapeGuy tried to calm me down and suggested that I lay down for a while. I managed to make it into my bedroom and he came in and lay down next to me. The next think I knew, he was on top of me. I kept telling him "no," and while my mind was screaming in protest, there wasn't much my body would do to protect me. I felt immobilized. All I could do was whimper, murmer "no" and weakly push him away. It was awful-- as if my brain wouldn’t send the right messages to my arms and legs to kick and punch and shout. I don’t remember much else and think I passed out.
I woke up two hours later (at around 2:00 pm) and panicked when I saw him next to me. I lept out of the bed and woke him up.
"C'mon! We have to go. I mean, I have to go... I have to go to the library right now! C'mon..."
" Good Morning!" he said, cheefully. "I had such a great time last night. You know... I never realized what a smart and interesting girl you are. I really enjoyed this. Aren't we at least going to exchange phone numbers?"
(What the fuck!?!?!?)
"Umm... Well, you don't need my number," I told him. "You know where to find me."
"Well, let me give you mine then," he said with a smile. He wrote it on a piece of paper and left it on my kitchen counter.
I was already running out the door. I didn't even bother to get dressed or anything (I was in sweats). I called B from the elevator. I was trying to hold back my tears because this asshole was still next to me. B told me he was just getting out of a Yoga class at Union Square. I begged him to stay there until I could come and cry on his shoulder.
Anyway, to make a long story short, Narc and I continued to fight through my birthday weekend (my birthday's the 12th) until I heard the infamous "your life is shit" phone call. He left that call the night of the date rape incident, but I didn't hear it until after the weekend. On that following Monday (December 14th), I sent him the following message:
*********************
(This is an excerpt b/c it was really long)
But back to your messages... To remind you--in your first message you said that I am "all about being shit" and that I'm "all about living shit" and that you can't be a part of that. In your second message you said you were "dealing with my shit right now" and to call you back if I "feel like dealing with your shit." I know you were drunk when you left those messages, so I won't take them at face value, and I also know I was being awful on Friday, so I'm incredibly sorry for that. But really, I was angry and confused and just so sad. I was so sad all week and I feel like I've been hitting my head against a wall with you.
I am already starting to pull my life back together. (Not like I had even screwed anything important up, but you know what I mean...) It's harder to do, though when there's all of this emotional crap still unresolved between us. Obviously you and I internalize the world quite differently. I don't know how you are, but my feelings often overwhelm me. When I let down my guard to you and let myself feel love for you, it scared me. After November 20th, (the day you met me at KGB), I decided to let myself go and let myself trust you. I ditched the other guy I had been dating and I started telling people that I was unavailable when they asked. But I don't know if that was even true!
What do I know to be true? That based on how you've acted, you don't care about who I am nor do you want to do anything to get to know me better. You’ve made it quite clear that I'm not even worth the sacrifice of once or twice making the "long trek" into midtown, despite the fact that I've spent hundreds of dollars on late night cabs and inconvenienced myself time and again to see you. It's clear that there's nothing outside the bedroom that you'd ever like to share with me, that you're not interested in meeting my friends, not interested in sharing my life, nor are you interested in inviting me to be a part of your life. You don't want to go out to lunch or dinner; you can't handle seeing a movie; you're not willing to visit a museum; we can't go chat over coffee, or even just hang out and talk on the phone.
Your actions tell me that I'm not worth any kind of courtship, nor do I warrant or deserve any kind of treatment that would make me feel special. Narc-- the messages that you have been sending me, intentional or not, are that I have no value. I am worthless. I've started to feel worthless being with you. What hurts the most is that not only am I not worthy of an emotional investment (which I understand is scary), but I don't even merit the investment of your time, of a little planning, of anything at all besides a call in the middle of the night to come fuck you.
It's not fun anymore. I feel like shit. And when I feel like shit, I start treating myself like shit and then hate myself even more for the mistakes that I make... which leads back to Friday night. I just couldn’t hold this all together this week. When you treat people like shit, Narc, eventually all they can offer you is shit in return.
I have wanted to give myself to you. I have wanted to share things with you. And I've repeatedly pleaded with you for better treatment. Even though you've consistently acknowledged that "we have to talk," you've never offered an inch...you're just unwilling to risk yourself. You're right about Friday. I want to scrap whatever is left of it from my memory because I was "all about living shit." I don't want to do that anymore. That's why I sent you that e-mail yesterday.
I hope that you understand a little better what I've been going through with this. I feel like I've learned a lot from all this...about what I require in a relationship and about trying to be strong enough to ask to be treated with respect. I hope that you've learned something useful about yourself too.
I really do care about you...you know that. And you know how much I would love to hear something back from you about all this. (Silence is deafening to me). But like I said yesterday, I'm tired of asking for scraps and being grateful when I get crumbs. Handle this however you want to...however you need to. I need to get my heart out of this and move on...
Lots of love,
Hyde
**************
I didn't hear anything from him all week. On December 18th, I called him and invited him to a party. He sent me a text:
Nothing more for us really.
I called him for one last tearful conversation and with that we were "broken up." I started this blog four days later.
The night of my birthday party (Saturday, December 11th), DateRapeGuy showed up at the end of the evening. I panicked when I saw him there and asked Bezoukoff to keep him away from me. Bezoukoff told DateRapeGuy that he was my boyfriend and DateRapeGuy got mad and threw ice at him, before being asked to leave the bar. I saw him once more after that when he showed up at Cheers and he hung around until after closing time. I had to get IrishBird to walk me home because I didn't want him to follow me to my house.
Anyway, back to this past Saturday...
When DateRapeGuy walked in, I was flooded with with fear and anxiety. I tried to act casual about it, but it was hard. Too late. He already saw me and was heading my way. He came over and gave me a "friendly" and "casual" kiss hello. If I hadn't been with BulgarianGuy, I think I would have had a heart attack and cried. I took our drinks and swiftly moved to the back of the bar.
"Why are you going back there?" BulgarianGuy asked.
"I just don't want to be near that guy," I said.
"Wow. What did he do? He has you really upset!"
Later, IrishBird called me up to sing another song. When I came off the stage, some guy came up to me and told me I was great. I was friendly.
"Thanks! But if you've been here before, I'm surprised you haven't heard me. I'm here all the time!"
"Oh, well... I'm not here that often, but my brother is," he said.
"Who's your brother?"
Just then, DateRapeGuy appeared out of nowhere, popping his head through the crowd.
"That's my brother."
(What?!?! I couldn't breathe.) DateRapeGuy came up to me as if he wanted to talk.
"Um, excuse me," I said, pushing them aside.
I manuevered over to the door, gulping for air. Then I just ran. I ran and ran and ran and ran and ran, drunk and in high-heeled boots, as many blocks as I could down Second Avenue. BulgarianGuy chased after me. He eventually caught up.
"Wow, that was fast!" he said. (You guys can imagine where my head was at. I'm typically one for a 20-minute mile.)
"I don't want to go back in there," I said.
"Well, we don't have to."
"Let's just go drink at my place then."
We strolled back up to the deli across the street from me. I scanned the streets as we went. I didn't mind having the night at Cheers cut short. It was already late anyway, probably around 3:30 am.
At the deli, I grabbed a bottle of wine off the shelf. We wanted to get sandwiches. While waiting for the deli guy to prepare them, I was talking to some guy from Philly. Suddenly, and I don't know how this happened, I dropped the bottle of wine. It smashed all over the floor. I felt awful. I think I was on the verge of tears anyway. I've been fucking living on the verge of tears lately--what, with my brother, Narc breaking my heart, and now having to deal with seeing DateRapeGuy. I just reverted into my masochist mode.
"I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I'll pay for it. I'll clean it up. I'm just so sorry!" I walked over to the cashier. "Can I get some towels? I promise, I’ll pay..."
Someone handed me a wad of paper towels. I was drunk, but got down on my hands and knees and started to scrub at the floor, the shards of glass pressing into my palms. Good. I didn't care if I bled from it. BulgarianGuy looked incredulous.
"What are you doing? Let them clean it up."
"No, No. I have to do it; I have to do it," I kept insisting. I don't know why, but I felt like I deserved to be scrubbing the floor. The DateRapeGuy thing just brought back so many negative feelings (and not just from that, but from things long past that I will never explain here.) I don't know. Sometimes I just can't keep the lid down on the box of things I'm in denial about and that I'm always trying to sit on.
In any case, I bought us a new bottle of wine and we finally got back to my place. BulgarianGuy and I stayed up talking pretty late. He smoked a lot of cigarettes and I finished off the entire bottle of wine by myself. Then I left him on the couch while I went to bed in my room.
The next day, I woke up pretty early to head out to Long Island to visit my brother in the hospital. I was still a little drunk that morning, and had an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach, thinking of Narc. When I got to the hospital I was the only one there. It was nice to get to spend some time alone with my brother before the rest of the family (and family chaos) arrived. But like I said in the last post, I don't want to dwell on this too much because it depresses me to think about it.
The only dramatic thing (in terms of my personal life) that happened is that BigSis noticed the large purple bruise around my neck. Hammer and I had been joking about that the night before and I said I was going to wear a turtleneck to preserve my "Dr. Jekyll" status with my family. I forgot all about it though and had sort of stumbled through my morning routine, so there it was...
"What the hell is that?" she asked, pulling me aside.
"Oh, um, well... it's private. I mean it's just a hickey." (Keep in mind, even though BigSis is just a year older than me, she's happily married to someone she's been dating since she was 19 and she's not at all as "wild" as my Mr. Hyde).
"A hickey?" she exclaimed. "A hickey is a little red mark. You looked like someone choked you."
I must have completley blushed. "Well, that's not it. No one choked me. It's a hickey."
I pulled up the hood of my sweatshirt, skirting around her into the bathroom. Good thing I always travel with a good supply of makeup in my bag. I had it decently covered in no time. (Or in other words, before my mom could see it and comment. Thanks a lot, Stallion!)
Anyway, by the end of the day in the hospital, I was generally exhausted from the weekend's events and could feel myself sinking into a deep depression. I boarded the train home at twilight when the whole world was turning gray. That time of day has started to depress me. (It has always depressed B, but I used to like it because I could feel the "night life" coming on.) Everyone seemed so far away from me, moving like phantoms. I just couldn’t connect to the "pulse" of the world at all. B and I had initially had plans to hang out, but when I called him, he said that he was tired and was going home. That depressed me even more, but in a way, I was already too depressed to socialize anyway.
I came home and made some pasta (which was a terribly self-destructive thing to do given the hypoglycemic diet I'm supposed to be on), and I parked in front of the TV. The couch was still open from Anxious' visit, so I was sprawled out in my living room.
The phone rang.
It was B. I didn't pick it up. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I didn't want to do anything. I didn't even want to lift my head. I must have lay like that, motionless and sinking, for a few hours.
My cell phone rang.
It was just out of arm's reach on the table. I ignored it. Not worth the effort. It was about 10:00.
Then my land line rang again.
I let the machine go off.
"Hey, Hyde... It's Narc. I was just leaving the Tavern here, and I thought we might-"
"HELLO?" I grabbed the phone.
"Hyde, you're home!" He was clearly drunk. "I just thought we might finally hook up or something."
"Um, yeah, well I guess so..." My heart was pounding.
What should I do? I so wanted to see him, but I know I'm not supposed to see him!
"Well, you don't sound that enthusiastic about it. You don't have to, you know."
"No, well I know that..." I said. "It's just that... I don't know. I mean, I'm about to go in the shower, and um, well I wasn't planning... Well, I have to teach tomorrow and stuff."
"Well, fuck. Are you coming down here or not?" he asked. "I've missed you."
"I know," I said. "I've missed you too."
"So come down here."
"Um... Well, okay. Just give me an hour."
My depression, malaise and general immobility were overcome big-time by the sudden rush of adrenaline. I jumped up, showered and shaved, and quickly put on some makeup.
Now for the wardrobe choice... Hmmm...
Narc doesn't generally seem to care whether or not I get all dressed up. In fact, no matter what I wear, he always wants to be naked. Whatever I choose will probably go unnoticed as he'll be concerned with taking it off me as quickly as possible. I opted to be practical. I wore my sweatpants and a t-shirt with no bra, and I didn't bring anything with me. This was very strategic, you see... I had to be at work at 9:00 am the next day, and this way would guarantee that I had to come back to my place for some decent clothes and for my books. It would really discourage me from spending the night with him. Okay... So I know I was going there to fuck him, but I really don’t want to fall back in love with him. (I know, I know.... Have I ever fallen out?) All I know is that I can't handle the the false closeness of spending a whole night feeling safe and asleep in his arms.
But then, just as I was about to walk out the door, B called.
"Hey, Hyde. Feeling any better than before?"
"I can't really talk now B."
"Why not?"
Well, I didn't want to deceive him, so I took a deep breath and spit it out.
"Don't be mad at me. I just don't want to lie to you, so I’m going to say this and not bring it up again, but I'm going down to see Narc."
"What?!?! Hyde, no.... No! Don't go. Please? It's a mistake. It's a big mistake. Don't go."
"I'm not asking you if I should go or not. I already decided. I'm going. It's not up for discussion. I just didn't want to have some lie between us. Are you mad?"
He didn't say anything.
"Please don't be mad at me..."
"I think we should hang up now," he said. I know he needed time to process and I felt guilty.
"Okay. Later then. I'll see you tomorrow for 24."
"Fine. Bye."
Leaving my house, Narc called me again.
"Hyde! Where are you?"
"Waiting for the elevator," I told him.
"Still at your place? What's taking you so long???"
"Don't worry... Just be patient, I'll be there!" (He's so fucking impatient when he wants something!)
I went across the street to the deli. It was about 10:30 on Sunday night and Cheers was closed. God, how I would have loved to do a shot or two! The deli was my only option for alcohol. I bought a 40 oz. Smirnoff Ice and stuck it under my arm. I don't know why... It's just my heart was pounding so hard and my stomach fluttering at the thought of seeing Narc again. And he was so drunk and wouldn't feel inhibited at all, and I hadn't had a sip!
I jumped in the cab and we started down Second. The phone rang again.
"Hyde? Where are you now?"
"I don't know... Um... at Second and 8th."
"Only there? You're so far away!"
"I'm not so far away! I'll be there in 10 minutes!"
"Well, I want you here now!" (I'm sorry, but how much of a fucking infant is he?)
"Well, I'll tell the driver to step on it, okay? There's not much else I can do."
He laughed.
I got there pretty fast, my heart still thumping on my way up to his apartment. I rang the bell. The five seconds he took to answer it felt like an eternity. What would I say to him? What would he say to me? Would it be weird to be with him again? I guess not. I mean, it’s only been three weeks since I'd seen him.
He opened the door naked and with an erection (as is his habit).
"Hey, what's up?" I asked. "How have you-"
He cut me off by kissing me. I dropped my bag on the floor. He started to undress me right there. I hadn't even moved an inch into the house. There we stayed up against the door for about twenty minutes before he would let me catch a breath or properly put my stuff down. I have to say though, my heart and stomach were flipping over to be with him again.
After that, I mean, I don't know how much detail to go into here and how much to leave out, but I stayed for a few hours. He led me into the bedroom and after a while there back into his living room. I finally opened my Smirnoff Ice (which is the weakest shit on earth and gave me less of a buzz than second hand smoke) and he poured himself a vodka. We both smoked cigarettes. After a few rounds in the living room, it was back into the bedroom.
"I want you to spend the night with me, darling," he said. "I want you to wake up here with me, in my arms. I want to hold you the entire night."
"I really can't Narc, I have to teach tomorrow."
"No. You're staying here."
"What's the difference?" I asked. "If I stay here, I'll be up before you in the morning and won't even see you. You never wake up when I leave."
It was weird being with him. He was so tender and so loving to me, and I could tell he was also trying to please me because he was being rough about things too. Meanwhile, he kept pulling his face back from mine so that he could get a better look at me, squinting his eyes and scrutinizing my face as if he were trying to discern something hidden deep within. He looked at my eyes so inquisitively and so intensely. It made me uncomfortable.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked.
He never answered.
I guess I was tensing up.
"Shhh... It's okay. Just relax," he kept whispering to me.
At one point, pulled me in close. "Who are you Hyde?"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Who are you?"
"You mean you don't know me?"
"I don't know. I don't know who this woman is. I don't."
He was acting strange. I was confused. (I don't know. Maybe this is why we work better when we're both drunk.)
"Well, I guess it'll stay a secret then." (I mean, if he doesn't "know me" by now, I'm certainly not about to get any more trusting or revelatory!)
At another point, he turned off the lights in his bedroom, closed the blinds and acted as if he were getting ready for bed. Then he got into bed, as if to go to sleep and held me so close (exactly what I was afraid of), nurturing me, and trying to soothe me into sleep.
"Love me," he whispered.
"Love you? You don't want that. You know you don't want that."
"I do. I do," he said. "Love me. Don't you still?"
(Fuck. He knows just how to break me down).
"You know I do," I said. "Things don't change that fast. But I don't want to. I don't want to love you anymore."
"Love me though. Just love me for this moment."
After a while he got up.
"I'm going into the living room to finish my vodka. I want you to stay right here until I come back and then I'm going to fuck you some more."
He got up and left. I lay there for a few minutes thinking. Then I got up to, as if I had to go to the bathroom. I walked out into the living room.
"What are you doing? I thought I told you to stay there."
"Well, I guess I thought I'd come hang out with you here."
I lay down on the couch next to him. More fucking.
"You know, we should really use condoms," I said. (We've been sooooo bad about that in the past, but now it's different. I mean, I've been with the Stallion and God forbid anything goes wrong. I don't ever want to hurt Narc by passing something to him).
"Well, you haven't gotten pregnant yet," he said, "but yeah I guess we should be more careful."
"I'm not talking about that," I said. "I mean, for safety reasons now..."
"Well, don't worry. I haven't been with anyone except you," he laughed to himself.
I hesitated.
"Well, not for me, but for your own safety then... you know?"
There was a moment of silence, pregnant with a painful tension.
"Yeah, yeah, I guess," he shrugged it off and went back to his drink. (He didn't bother putting a condom on at our next go at it though.)
Later on, somehow (and I don't remember how), he got the idea that he wanted to watch Point Break. He got up and searched his DVD collection and put it on. It was about 2:15 am or so.
"Narc, I really have to get going," I said getting up.
"NO! I said that you’re not leaving." He pulled me back down onto the couch and put his arms around me tightly.
"C'mon, I really have to go." I tried to wriggle free. "C'mon! I'm leaving."
"No. I said that you're not. You're staying here."
"I can't. I'm leaving."
"No."
We were wrestling with each other now.
"Narc, listen... You really don't want me to stay. If I stay, I'll start to feel safe and secure sleeping in your arms. I'll fall in love with you and trust you. If I'm in love, I'll expect more from you, and all of your distance (which I know is forthcoming) will feel like a rejection. Then I'll be on the exact same fucking emotional rollercoaster that I've been trying to get off of. Then I'll expect things from you and you won't want to give them. When we hang out, I'll be emotionally on edge and get sad and upset. You'll yell at me and say you're 'sick of my histrionics' (he smiled at that part) and then we won't be able to see each other at all anymore!"
"Oh, is that how it's going to go?" He winked at me.
"Yes. Yes it is."
"Well, I'll tell you how it's going to go," he said. "You're going to go to sleep with me tonight. I'm going to fuck your brains out again. And then you’ll go teach in the morning."
"Narc, I didn't even bring a bra."
He pulled me down on top of him once more and started kissing me. I pulled away.
"Narc! Listen... I have to be responsible. I mean, I'm trying to be responsible now. Please don't be mad at me. I just have a lot to do. I have to hold it together. I was sick last week and I can't let myself get sick again. I mean, c'mon... I'm under a lot of emotional stress right now."
When I said that, his expression changed. He knew exactly what I was talking about, but didn't want to acknowledge it.
"Fine, then. Just go."
"Are you mad at me?"
"Just go!" He got up, ushering me towards the door where my clothes were still in a pile. I started to pull them on.
"You're sure you're not mad?" I suddenly felt really nervous.
"No, whatever... But go. Go! Go now before I think about it too much!"
And with that, I was out the door.
I got home after 3:00 am and couldn't sleep. But honestly, guys... I don't regret it. I don't regret it at all. I don't know what any of it means yet, but this guy is inside me until I work out my own issues, you know?
I don't have the energy to analyze it now. Telling all of this again took enough out of me (and my hands are fucking shot from typing it all!)
Hope it wasn’t too bad a wait to get the second half of this...
Hope you are all well...
Hope you don't all think I'm a totally crazy motherfucker!
LOL,
Hyde
Enjoy!
*******
Okay, I left you guys off when NextDoorNeighbor and Anxious were at my place and I was getting ready to meet Hammer. Well, I was supposed to meet Hammer at 7:30, but when I got to Lincoln Center, she hadn't yet arrived. I stood there waiting and waiting and waiting, staring at the same fountain where I had sat all afternoon the day I was stood up by Narc. It totally brought me back to that place in my head and I was getting more and more upset the longer I waited. Hammer finally appeared at 7:55 and we rushed to our seats. She said she had some problem on the subway. My anger at the waiting-incident was soon forgotten.
Anyway, the opera (or operetta) was really quite entertaining, although the plot has very little to propel it forward dramatically. But I've performed so many pieces from Candide in various theater groups and choirs in the past that a lot of it was already very familiar to me and that was cool. We were sitting pretty high up in the fourth ring, next to an annoying woman who kept coughing. At the intermission, Hammer wanted to change seats. We tried venturing down to the second ring in order to steal seats there, but the hyper-vigilant ushers admonishingly returned us to our place among the plebians in the fourth ring.
We did manage to move down to the front row of the fourth ring though, on the right side up against the balcony. From our new seats, looking down into the third ring, we had a perfect view of B and his new girlfriend. While B says he didn't see us sitting up there, Hammer swears she made eye contact with him. Honestly, I didn't want to look at them both because I felt uncomfortable invading their privacy, but moreso because the one glimpse I did catch of them made me feel nauseated, sick, weak, and brought me to the verge of tears. Why dredge up all of that old shit again? It's clearly not yet "history" for me yet, and that wasn't the night to deal with it.
After the show, Hammer and I met the Wizard across the street at Fiorello's where we shared some delicious food and an "exciting" bottle of wine (at least according to our waiter). The Wizard entertained us with stories of his LSD experience in the Metropolitan Museum. He told how willingly made the statues breathe wtih life, and of a sprightly little girl who appeared out of nowhere and danced in front of him, disappearing just as quickly. Pretty fucking strange. I don't think I'd ever have the guts to try LSD. I'm sure I'd have a bad trip. I tend to get bad-emotional when I'm too fucked up. Anyway, from there, Hammer and the Wizard headed their way and I hopped into a cab heading to Cheers.
When I arrived at Cheers, BulgarianGuy was outside smoking. He smiled when he saw me and gave me a hug and a kiss.
"Long time, no see," I said.
He invited me inside and offered to buy me a drink. The two of us got pretty wasted together. I went up and sang a few songs on karaoke.
But suddenly--YUCK!
I was subjected to an awful, terrible, miserable reminder from the past. In walked the most slimy, gross, sniveling, asshole that I've ever known. Who was it? DateRapeGuy!
I hadn't seen him in months and thought that he had been "banned" from Cheers, but I guess not. It's weird...I was just talking about him the other day when for some reason I told this story to Sunshine.
Anyway, to put this all in perspective, I have to give you a little context. (Please pardon the departure from my account of the weekend's events). I met DateRapeGuy back in August. He was a Friday night regular at Cheers and was always offering to buy me drinks. I never liked him. In fact, I always found him to be a whining, irritating, know-it-all bastard, yet while I always tried to dodge his conversation, if I got stuck talking to him, I was always very polite. Once in October or November he referred to us as "friends."
"Friends?" I said. "We're not friends. We're just acquaintances."
Anyway, the first week in December was a rough time for me. Things were coming to a head between me and Narc, and after some very intense and loving times, Narc was pulling his usual asshole shit. On December 3rd, I wrote him a very heartfelt email. I'm including it below (but you can skip over it if you don't feel like reading it. It’s not particularly integral to the story):
*******************
Hi Narc,
I know I just left your place a few hours ago, but after my therapy and some thought, I feel like my head has cleared a bit and there are a few things we still need to talk about. While it would be ideal to have this discussion in person, I sometimes have difficulty asserting my rational side when I'm with you. Instead, the immediacy of the situation always leads me to steer by impulse and emotion. So I'm sending you this email because there are a few things I need to get off my mind.
As you know, navigating our relationship has been emotionally confusing for me. After an initial period of guarding myself, I began let down those walls and invest my feelings in you. This has left me feeling incredibly vulnerable because there is nothing concrete, safe or stable about our relationship. In your message to me on Wednesday night, you said that you had a revelation, that you wanted to "renegotiate" our relationship and that you've been "very very unfair" to me thus far and that you'd "like to make up for that." Since the past is in the past, I don't think there's any point in "making up" for things that have already happened, but I'm wondering if you really meant what you said. Last night when we spoke something you said struck me in particular. You said that you need to direct your own life, and direct how you approach me in order to conquer past problems of just "drifting" into destructive relationships. While I completely understand where you're coming from, what bothers me about this whole equation, is that I don't understand how my needs can play a role in this. If you think you've been unfair to me, I wish that you'd listen to what I've been asking of you. I'm still not sure that you've been hearing me.
Last night you spoke about repeated negative patterns (I think you called it a shadow-self or something). I have my own set of negative patterns as well, one of which is to get involved with people who are emotionally withholding. What I usually do in this instance is to wait. I end up stuck in this "waiting game," waiting and waiting and waiting for my partner to "be able" to address my emotional needs as well as his own. I know that because I willingly engage in this, it is my own responsibility, but even so, it is exhausting and depressing and really bad for my self esteem in general. Like you, I don't want to make the same mistakes over and over. Like you, I want to take responsibility for my actions and not just act based on impulse and need. In light of that, I want to tell you again what I "need" from you if we are going to continue to engage each other.
First and foremost, I feel like I need to get my whole life into order right now. Something clicked in my head this week and I want to end this spiral of self-destructive behavior. I have been abusing my body and disregarding my emotions for quite a few months now. I know that this "self-destructive" thing is the only mode you've known me in, but it really is only one facet of my personality that has taken on a life of its own and has started to deplete the other parts of my life. I am just plain exhausted. I can't keep burning the candle at both ends. I'm also scared of my problems with alcohol in light of the fact that alcohol is what killed my dad. I think that at some point moderation is a goal, but I need to stop drinking on a regular basis right now. What I want is to slow down the speed of my life and not focus it around drinking. I want to create a nurturing and stable environment for myself. I think that our pattern of unplanned meetings in the middle of the night contributes to the overall chaos I'm struggling against.
I'm not sure if what I want is a "relationship" based on love. The other day told me that I can't possibly love you because I don't even know you. Clearly we haven't had the chance to get to know each other. We might find that after spending a lot of time together that we are not even all that compatible. While I'm not sure what will happen, I agree with you that our behavior patterns have to change. I need you to be something steadier in my life if you're going to be there at all.
I've told you before that I have strong feelings for you, and I do. But I don't know if those feelings are based on need or love and I have no way of finding out unless we change things between us. Take the time you need to figure out what you want and what you are willing to offer, but as a minimum, I also need to restore my emotional health.
Bottom line, here's what I'd like from you: I'd like it if we could plan our meetings clearly in advance; I'd like it if our activities didn't only focus on drinking and/or sex ; I'd like to really try to get to know each other in the other aspects of our lives.
I guess that's it for now. Give me a call if you want to talk or just hang out, but don't call in the middle of the night. My birthday is next Sunday, and as a birthday present to myself, I'm ready to do a little growing up.
Sorry if this letter got too long. Hope you have a good day!!!
Lots of love,
Hyde
******************
Needless to say, Narc never sent me a response. Six days later (and after some sad drunken phone calls) I sent him the following follow-up message:
*******************
Hi,
I'm writing primarily to apologize for flooding you with messages last night. I'm sure it was at the very least annoying and I really don't mean to be a nuisance. I'm pretty upset with myself for the weakness of my resolve both to avoid alcohol and to "play it cool" with you. But honestly, I'm tired of trying to fit things into boxes; and I've already spilled enough of myself to you that I'm not afraid to be honest anymore. In a strange way, although nothing is resolved between us, I think I finally "trust" you.
I don't know how much need there is for explanation. I think it's pretty clear to you that the ambiguity in our relationship is really difficult for me to manage. I've been feeling very sad for the past few days--an aching sadness that stems from frustration. I'm frustrated because I feel such tenderness for you, yet it's a love that you don't want. At least, that's all I've been able to draw from your recent silence on the matter.
I know that I can be hyperbolic, but I can't help that. My heart is full right now. It's brimming with both love and sadness and I don't know what to do about it. I just can't be in this place anymore... I guess I'd rather that you be direct and tell me to go away than to do it with your silence. I mean, when I sent you that email last week I opened myself up to you. Since you haven't replied, I have to wonder whether you regard my feelings at all. I know that you care for me, but I can't understand you.
I don't know... I just know that I've been thinking about you and wondering about you and all of this is weighing on me. I have so much going on work-wise right now that I have to attend to, but my heart isn't there...it's with you. But I don't want to write another email so long that you won't read it. And I don't want to sound like a "Bronte character" either. So I guess I should stop now. I just wanted to apologize for last night, to be honest about where I am, and to make one last plea for us to change our style of interaction.
So that's it. I'm going to try not to call you anymore unless we can really deal with some of this. It's starting to hurt me, that's all. I just hope that you find your happiness. I mean it Narc--I wish that for you most of all.
Take care,
Hyde
************
That letter was sent on December 9th. On Friday, December 10th, I was out at Cheers late (and drunk as usual) when I received an equally drunk "come fuck me" call from Narc. I was already very upset about the whole situation with him not responding to my intense letters, and I was feeling hyper-emotional about everything. I asked him why he had never responded and how could he ever expect me to "come fuck him" in light of the given circumstances. If he wanted to fuck me, the very least he could do would be to pretend to care, or offer to come up to my place for once! Anyway, we were calling and yelling and hanging up on each other a lot, and there were a lot of "fuck you's" flying in both directions, accompanied by a sea of tears on my part.
DateRapeGuy was there that night, and offered to buy me drinks. I told Narc on the phone that he could "go fuck himself b/c some other guy was buying me drinks," etc. DateRapeGuy was nice about the whole thing and listened to me whine about Narc the whole night long. When Cheers was closing (around 4:00 or 4:30), I was even more drunk, still trading upset phone calls with Narc and not wanting to be alone. I invited DateRapeGuy back to my house to do some "medicine" or smoke up or something. He accepted.
Back at my place, the fighting with Narc continued. Of course I had to tell him that I had a guy at my place. It infuriated him, exactly as I had intended. I had no intention, however, of hooking up with DateRapeGuy, and that must have been perfectly clear because he made no attempt to touch me.
But as the night turned to morning, I got higher and higher. After about seven hours of cutting lines, I started to crash beyond belief. My head was pounding and spinning, my heart fluttered, my legs felt like jelly and my eyes wouldn't focus. I felt like I was floating out of my body and was falling into a black hole that was both terrifying and endless. It was so bad that I will never be able to adequately explain it. I think I must have been freaking out about it because DateRapeGuy tried to calm me down and suggested that I lay down for a while. I managed to make it into my bedroom and he came in and lay down next to me. The next think I knew, he was on top of me. I kept telling him "no," and while my mind was screaming in protest, there wasn't much my body would do to protect me. I felt immobilized. All I could do was whimper, murmer "no" and weakly push him away. It was awful-- as if my brain wouldn’t send the right messages to my arms and legs to kick and punch and shout. I don’t remember much else and think I passed out.
I woke up two hours later (at around 2:00 pm) and panicked when I saw him next to me. I lept out of the bed and woke him up.
"C'mon! We have to go. I mean, I have to go... I have to go to the library right now! C'mon..."
" Good Morning!" he said, cheefully. "I had such a great time last night. You know... I never realized what a smart and interesting girl you are. I really enjoyed this. Aren't we at least going to exchange phone numbers?"
(What the fuck!?!?!?)
"Umm... Well, you don't need my number," I told him. "You know where to find me."
"Well, let me give you mine then," he said with a smile. He wrote it on a piece of paper and left it on my kitchen counter.
I was already running out the door. I didn't even bother to get dressed or anything (I was in sweats). I called B from the elevator. I was trying to hold back my tears because this asshole was still next to me. B told me he was just getting out of a Yoga class at Union Square. I begged him to stay there until I could come and cry on his shoulder.
Anyway, to make a long story short, Narc and I continued to fight through my birthday weekend (my birthday's the 12th) until I heard the infamous "your life is shit" phone call. He left that call the night of the date rape incident, but I didn't hear it until after the weekend. On that following Monday (December 14th), I sent him the following message:
*********************
(This is an excerpt b/c it was really long)
But back to your messages... To remind you--in your first message you said that I am "all about being shit" and that I'm "all about living shit" and that you can't be a part of that. In your second message you said you were "dealing with my shit right now" and to call you back if I "feel like dealing with your shit." I know you were drunk when you left those messages, so I won't take them at face value, and I also know I was being awful on Friday, so I'm incredibly sorry for that. But really, I was angry and confused and just so sad. I was so sad all week and I feel like I've been hitting my head against a wall with you.
I am already starting to pull my life back together. (Not like I had even screwed anything important up, but you know what I mean...) It's harder to do, though when there's all of this emotional crap still unresolved between us. Obviously you and I internalize the world quite differently. I don't know how you are, but my feelings often overwhelm me. When I let down my guard to you and let myself feel love for you, it scared me. After November 20th, (the day you met me at KGB), I decided to let myself go and let myself trust you. I ditched the other guy I had been dating and I started telling people that I was unavailable when they asked. But I don't know if that was even true!
What do I know to be true? That based on how you've acted, you don't care about who I am nor do you want to do anything to get to know me better. You’ve made it quite clear that I'm not even worth the sacrifice of once or twice making the "long trek" into midtown, despite the fact that I've spent hundreds of dollars on late night cabs and inconvenienced myself time and again to see you. It's clear that there's nothing outside the bedroom that you'd ever like to share with me, that you're not interested in meeting my friends, not interested in sharing my life, nor are you interested in inviting me to be a part of your life. You don't want to go out to lunch or dinner; you can't handle seeing a movie; you're not willing to visit a museum; we can't go chat over coffee, or even just hang out and talk on the phone.
Your actions tell me that I'm not worth any kind of courtship, nor do I warrant or deserve any kind of treatment that would make me feel special. Narc-- the messages that you have been sending me, intentional or not, are that I have no value. I am worthless. I've started to feel worthless being with you. What hurts the most is that not only am I not worthy of an emotional investment (which I understand is scary), but I don't even merit the investment of your time, of a little planning, of anything at all besides a call in the middle of the night to come fuck you.
It's not fun anymore. I feel like shit. And when I feel like shit, I start treating myself like shit and then hate myself even more for the mistakes that I make... which leads back to Friday night. I just couldn’t hold this all together this week. When you treat people like shit, Narc, eventually all they can offer you is shit in return.
I have wanted to give myself to you. I have wanted to share things with you. And I've repeatedly pleaded with you for better treatment. Even though you've consistently acknowledged that "we have to talk," you've never offered an inch...you're just unwilling to risk yourself. You're right about Friday. I want to scrap whatever is left of it from my memory because I was "all about living shit." I don't want to do that anymore. That's why I sent you that e-mail yesterday.
I hope that you understand a little better what I've been going through with this. I feel like I've learned a lot from all this...about what I require in a relationship and about trying to be strong enough to ask to be treated with respect. I hope that you've learned something useful about yourself too.
I really do care about you...you know that. And you know how much I would love to hear something back from you about all this. (Silence is deafening to me). But like I said yesterday, I'm tired of asking for scraps and being grateful when I get crumbs. Handle this however you want to...however you need to. I need to get my heart out of this and move on...
Lots of love,
Hyde
**************
I didn't hear anything from him all week. On December 18th, I called him and invited him to a party. He sent me a text:
Nothing more for us really.
I called him for one last tearful conversation and with that we were "broken up." I started this blog four days later.
The night of my birthday party (Saturday, December 11th), DateRapeGuy showed up at the end of the evening. I panicked when I saw him there and asked Bezoukoff to keep him away from me. Bezoukoff told DateRapeGuy that he was my boyfriend and DateRapeGuy got mad and threw ice at him, before being asked to leave the bar. I saw him once more after that when he showed up at Cheers and he hung around until after closing time. I had to get IrishBird to walk me home because I didn't want him to follow me to my house.
Anyway, back to this past Saturday...
When DateRapeGuy walked in, I was flooded with with fear and anxiety. I tried to act casual about it, but it was hard. Too late. He already saw me and was heading my way. He came over and gave me a "friendly" and "casual" kiss hello. If I hadn't been with BulgarianGuy, I think I would have had a heart attack and cried. I took our drinks and swiftly moved to the back of the bar.
"Why are you going back there?" BulgarianGuy asked.
"I just don't want to be near that guy," I said.
"Wow. What did he do? He has you really upset!"
Later, IrishBird called me up to sing another song. When I came off the stage, some guy came up to me and told me I was great. I was friendly.
"Thanks! But if you've been here before, I'm surprised you haven't heard me. I'm here all the time!"
"Oh, well... I'm not here that often, but my brother is," he said.
"Who's your brother?"
Just then, DateRapeGuy appeared out of nowhere, popping his head through the crowd.
"That's my brother."
(What?!?! I couldn't breathe.) DateRapeGuy came up to me as if he wanted to talk.
"Um, excuse me," I said, pushing them aside.
I manuevered over to the door, gulping for air. Then I just ran. I ran and ran and ran and ran and ran, drunk and in high-heeled boots, as many blocks as I could down Second Avenue. BulgarianGuy chased after me. He eventually caught up.
"Wow, that was fast!" he said. (You guys can imagine where my head was at. I'm typically one for a 20-minute mile.)
"I don't want to go back in there," I said.
"Well, we don't have to."
"Let's just go drink at my place then."
We strolled back up to the deli across the street from me. I scanned the streets as we went. I didn't mind having the night at Cheers cut short. It was already late anyway, probably around 3:30 am.
At the deli, I grabbed a bottle of wine off the shelf. We wanted to get sandwiches. While waiting for the deli guy to prepare them, I was talking to some guy from Philly. Suddenly, and I don't know how this happened, I dropped the bottle of wine. It smashed all over the floor. I felt awful. I think I was on the verge of tears anyway. I've been fucking living on the verge of tears lately--what, with my brother, Narc breaking my heart, and now having to deal with seeing DateRapeGuy. I just reverted into my masochist mode.
"I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I'll pay for it. I'll clean it up. I'm just so sorry!" I walked over to the cashier. "Can I get some towels? I promise, I’ll pay..."
Someone handed me a wad of paper towels. I was drunk, but got down on my hands and knees and started to scrub at the floor, the shards of glass pressing into my palms. Good. I didn't care if I bled from it. BulgarianGuy looked incredulous.
"What are you doing? Let them clean it up."
"No, No. I have to do it; I have to do it," I kept insisting. I don't know why, but I felt like I deserved to be scrubbing the floor. The DateRapeGuy thing just brought back so many negative feelings (and not just from that, but from things long past that I will never explain here.) I don't know. Sometimes I just can't keep the lid down on the box of things I'm in denial about and that I'm always trying to sit on.
In any case, I bought us a new bottle of wine and we finally got back to my place. BulgarianGuy and I stayed up talking pretty late. He smoked a lot of cigarettes and I finished off the entire bottle of wine by myself. Then I left him on the couch while I went to bed in my room.
The next day, I woke up pretty early to head out to Long Island to visit my brother in the hospital. I was still a little drunk that morning, and had an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach, thinking of Narc. When I got to the hospital I was the only one there. It was nice to get to spend some time alone with my brother before the rest of the family (and family chaos) arrived. But like I said in the last post, I don't want to dwell on this too much because it depresses me to think about it.
The only dramatic thing (in terms of my personal life) that happened is that BigSis noticed the large purple bruise around my neck. Hammer and I had been joking about that the night before and I said I was going to wear a turtleneck to preserve my "Dr. Jekyll" status with my family. I forgot all about it though and had sort of stumbled through my morning routine, so there it was...
"What the hell is that?" she asked, pulling me aside.
"Oh, um, well... it's private. I mean it's just a hickey." (Keep in mind, even though BigSis is just a year older than me, she's happily married to someone she's been dating since she was 19 and she's not at all as "wild" as my Mr. Hyde).
"A hickey?" she exclaimed. "A hickey is a little red mark. You looked like someone choked you."
I must have completley blushed. "Well, that's not it. No one choked me. It's a hickey."
I pulled up the hood of my sweatshirt, skirting around her into the bathroom. Good thing I always travel with a good supply of makeup in my bag. I had it decently covered in no time. (Or in other words, before my mom could see it and comment. Thanks a lot, Stallion!)
Anyway, by the end of the day in the hospital, I was generally exhausted from the weekend's events and could feel myself sinking into a deep depression. I boarded the train home at twilight when the whole world was turning gray. That time of day has started to depress me. (It has always depressed B, but I used to like it because I could feel the "night life" coming on.) Everyone seemed so far away from me, moving like phantoms. I just couldn’t connect to the "pulse" of the world at all. B and I had initially had plans to hang out, but when I called him, he said that he was tired and was going home. That depressed me even more, but in a way, I was already too depressed to socialize anyway.
I came home and made some pasta (which was a terribly self-destructive thing to do given the hypoglycemic diet I'm supposed to be on), and I parked in front of the TV. The couch was still open from Anxious' visit, so I was sprawled out in my living room.
The phone rang.
It was B. I didn't pick it up. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I didn't want to do anything. I didn't even want to lift my head. I must have lay like that, motionless and sinking, for a few hours.
My cell phone rang.
It was just out of arm's reach on the table. I ignored it. Not worth the effort. It was about 10:00.
Then my land line rang again.
I let the machine go off.
"Hey, Hyde... It's Narc. I was just leaving the Tavern here, and I thought we might-"
"HELLO?" I grabbed the phone.
"Hyde, you're home!" He was clearly drunk. "I just thought we might finally hook up or something."
"Um, yeah, well I guess so..." My heart was pounding.
What should I do? I so wanted to see him, but I know I'm not supposed to see him!
"Well, you don't sound that enthusiastic about it. You don't have to, you know."
"No, well I know that..." I said. "It's just that... I don't know. I mean, I'm about to go in the shower, and um, well I wasn't planning... Well, I have to teach tomorrow and stuff."
"Well, fuck. Are you coming down here or not?" he asked. "I've missed you."
"I know," I said. "I've missed you too."
"So come down here."
"Um... Well, okay. Just give me an hour."
My depression, malaise and general immobility were overcome big-time by the sudden rush of adrenaline. I jumped up, showered and shaved, and quickly put on some makeup.
Now for the wardrobe choice... Hmmm...
Narc doesn't generally seem to care whether or not I get all dressed up. In fact, no matter what I wear, he always wants to be naked. Whatever I choose will probably go unnoticed as he'll be concerned with taking it off me as quickly as possible. I opted to be practical. I wore my sweatpants and a t-shirt with no bra, and I didn't bring anything with me. This was very strategic, you see... I had to be at work at 9:00 am the next day, and this way would guarantee that I had to come back to my place for some decent clothes and for my books. It would really discourage me from spending the night with him. Okay... So I know I was going there to fuck him, but I really don’t want to fall back in love with him. (I know, I know.... Have I ever fallen out?) All I know is that I can't handle the the false closeness of spending a whole night feeling safe and asleep in his arms.
But then, just as I was about to walk out the door, B called.
"Hey, Hyde. Feeling any better than before?"
"I can't really talk now B."
"Why not?"
Well, I didn't want to deceive him, so I took a deep breath and spit it out.
"Don't be mad at me. I just don't want to lie to you, so I’m going to say this and not bring it up again, but I'm going down to see Narc."
"What?!?! Hyde, no.... No! Don't go. Please? It's a mistake. It's a big mistake. Don't go."
"I'm not asking you if I should go or not. I already decided. I'm going. It's not up for discussion. I just didn't want to have some lie between us. Are you mad?"
He didn't say anything.
"Please don't be mad at me..."
"I think we should hang up now," he said. I know he needed time to process and I felt guilty.
"Okay. Later then. I'll see you tomorrow for 24."
"Fine. Bye."
Leaving my house, Narc called me again.
"Hyde! Where are you?"
"Waiting for the elevator," I told him.
"Still at your place? What's taking you so long???"
"Don't worry... Just be patient, I'll be there!" (He's so fucking impatient when he wants something!)
I went across the street to the deli. It was about 10:30 on Sunday night and Cheers was closed. God, how I would have loved to do a shot or two! The deli was my only option for alcohol. I bought a 40 oz. Smirnoff Ice and stuck it under my arm. I don't know why... It's just my heart was pounding so hard and my stomach fluttering at the thought of seeing Narc again. And he was so drunk and wouldn't feel inhibited at all, and I hadn't had a sip!
I jumped in the cab and we started down Second. The phone rang again.
"Hyde? Where are you now?"
"I don't know... Um... at Second and 8th."
"Only there? You're so far away!"
"I'm not so far away! I'll be there in 10 minutes!"
"Well, I want you here now!" (I'm sorry, but how much of a fucking infant is he?)
"Well, I'll tell the driver to step on it, okay? There's not much else I can do."
He laughed.
I got there pretty fast, my heart still thumping on my way up to his apartment. I rang the bell. The five seconds he took to answer it felt like an eternity. What would I say to him? What would he say to me? Would it be weird to be with him again? I guess not. I mean, it’s only been three weeks since I'd seen him.
He opened the door naked and with an erection (as is his habit).
"Hey, what's up?" I asked. "How have you-"
He cut me off by kissing me. I dropped my bag on the floor. He started to undress me right there. I hadn't even moved an inch into the house. There we stayed up against the door for about twenty minutes before he would let me catch a breath or properly put my stuff down. I have to say though, my heart and stomach were flipping over to be with him again.
After that, I mean, I don't know how much detail to go into here and how much to leave out, but I stayed for a few hours. He led me into the bedroom and after a while there back into his living room. I finally opened my Smirnoff Ice (which is the weakest shit on earth and gave me less of a buzz than second hand smoke) and he poured himself a vodka. We both smoked cigarettes. After a few rounds in the living room, it was back into the bedroom.
"I want you to spend the night with me, darling," he said. "I want you to wake up here with me, in my arms. I want to hold you the entire night."
"I really can't Narc, I have to teach tomorrow."
"No. You're staying here."
"What's the difference?" I asked. "If I stay here, I'll be up before you in the morning and won't even see you. You never wake up when I leave."
It was weird being with him. He was so tender and so loving to me, and I could tell he was also trying to please me because he was being rough about things too. Meanwhile, he kept pulling his face back from mine so that he could get a better look at me, squinting his eyes and scrutinizing my face as if he were trying to discern something hidden deep within. He looked at my eyes so inquisitively and so intensely. It made me uncomfortable.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked.
He never answered.
I guess I was tensing up.
"Shhh... It's okay. Just relax," he kept whispering to me.
At one point, pulled me in close. "Who are you Hyde?"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Who are you?"
"You mean you don't know me?"
"I don't know. I don't know who this woman is. I don't."
He was acting strange. I was confused. (I don't know. Maybe this is why we work better when we're both drunk.)
"Well, I guess it'll stay a secret then." (I mean, if he doesn't "know me" by now, I'm certainly not about to get any more trusting or revelatory!)
At another point, he turned off the lights in his bedroom, closed the blinds and acted as if he were getting ready for bed. Then he got into bed, as if to go to sleep and held me so close (exactly what I was afraid of), nurturing me, and trying to soothe me into sleep.
"Love me," he whispered.
"Love you? You don't want that. You know you don't want that."
"I do. I do," he said. "Love me. Don't you still?"
(Fuck. He knows just how to break me down).
"You know I do," I said. "Things don't change that fast. But I don't want to. I don't want to love you anymore."
"Love me though. Just love me for this moment."
After a while he got up.
"I'm going into the living room to finish my vodka. I want you to stay right here until I come back and then I'm going to fuck you some more."
He got up and left. I lay there for a few minutes thinking. Then I got up to, as if I had to go to the bathroom. I walked out into the living room.
"What are you doing? I thought I told you to stay there."
"Well, I guess I thought I'd come hang out with you here."
I lay down on the couch next to him. More fucking.
"You know, we should really use condoms," I said. (We've been sooooo bad about that in the past, but now it's different. I mean, I've been with the Stallion and God forbid anything goes wrong. I don't ever want to hurt Narc by passing something to him).
"Well, you haven't gotten pregnant yet," he said, "but yeah I guess we should be more careful."
"I'm not talking about that," I said. "I mean, for safety reasons now..."
"Well, don't worry. I haven't been with anyone except you," he laughed to himself.
I hesitated.
"Well, not for me, but for your own safety then... you know?"
There was a moment of silence, pregnant with a painful tension.
"Yeah, yeah, I guess," he shrugged it off and went back to his drink. (He didn't bother putting a condom on at our next go at it though.)
Later on, somehow (and I don't remember how), he got the idea that he wanted to watch Point Break. He got up and searched his DVD collection and put it on. It was about 2:15 am or so.
"Narc, I really have to get going," I said getting up.
"NO! I said that you’re not leaving." He pulled me back down onto the couch and put his arms around me tightly.
"C'mon, I really have to go." I tried to wriggle free. "C'mon! I'm leaving."
"No. I said that you're not. You're staying here."
"I can't. I'm leaving."
"No."
We were wrestling with each other now.
"Narc, listen... You really don't want me to stay. If I stay, I'll start to feel safe and secure sleeping in your arms. I'll fall in love with you and trust you. If I'm in love, I'll expect more from you, and all of your distance (which I know is forthcoming) will feel like a rejection. Then I'll be on the exact same fucking emotional rollercoaster that I've been trying to get off of. Then I'll expect things from you and you won't want to give them. When we hang out, I'll be emotionally on edge and get sad and upset. You'll yell at me and say you're 'sick of my histrionics' (he smiled at that part) and then we won't be able to see each other at all anymore!"
"Oh, is that how it's going to go?" He winked at me.
"Yes. Yes it is."
"Well, I'll tell you how it's going to go," he said. "You're going to go to sleep with me tonight. I'm going to fuck your brains out again. And then you’ll go teach in the morning."
"Narc, I didn't even bring a bra."
He pulled me down on top of him once more and started kissing me. I pulled away.
"Narc! Listen... I have to be responsible. I mean, I'm trying to be responsible now. Please don't be mad at me. I just have a lot to do. I have to hold it together. I was sick last week and I can't let myself get sick again. I mean, c'mon... I'm under a lot of emotional stress right now."
When I said that, his expression changed. He knew exactly what I was talking about, but didn't want to acknowledge it.
"Fine, then. Just go."
"Are you mad at me?"
"Just go!" He got up, ushering me towards the door where my clothes were still in a pile. I started to pull them on.
"You're sure you're not mad?" I suddenly felt really nervous.
"No, whatever... But go. Go! Go now before I think about it too much!"
And with that, I was out the door.
I got home after 3:00 am and couldn't sleep. But honestly, guys... I don't regret it. I don't regret it at all. I don't know what any of it means yet, but this guy is inside me until I work out my own issues, you know?
I don't have the energy to analyze it now. Telling all of this again took enough out of me (and my hands are fucking shot from typing it all!)
Hope it wasn’t too bad a wait to get the second half of this...
Hope you are all well...
Hope you don't all think I'm a totally crazy motherfucker!
LOL,
Hyde
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