Uneasy Street

There's only one way to describe how I'm feeling today, and that's "uneasy."

Yesterday proceeded along normally enough. I taught in the morning, followed by a strong voice lesson during which my voice teacher told me he wants to work on developing some of the bel canto stuff. He said that he'll get a gun and shoot me if I get sick again, as we've lost so much time to my poor health and utter exhaustion over the past year and a half.

On the bus ride home I spoke to Hammer who was stuck in the Phoenix airport, her flight back to NY delayed. Then I talked to VJ with whom I hadn't spoken in quite some time. We had a lot to catch up on. Then I came home and watched crap TV.

But despite being surrounded by conversation with my friends, as the afternoon wore on and faded to evening, I began to get depressed. I was anxious, unsettled, uneasy-- utterly depressed with no idea why. I thought it might help to cook something. (Physical, tangible creation always seems to lift my spirits.) I ran out to the market for supplies (as my cupboards are perpetually bare) and returned to cook chicken cutlets and garlic mashed potatoes. (I think my fingers STILL smell like garlic from all of the peeling!) It took a long time for everything to cook and I couldn't wait to eat. I nibbled on the chicken before the potatoes were done, had two forkfuls of the potatoes when they were ready to eat and was basically done with my dinner after that. It sat there looking beautiful, but I never sat down to eat any more of it and I started to feel lonely. I wanted to share it with someone, but there was no one to be had.

Then I got a text from Narc:
In midtown tonight for a screenwriters meeting. Ack. Should have brought your present along. Out later?

I replied:
Maybe. I'm home now. Just cooked dinner. "24," 9:00-10:00. Then may stop by Cheers. What's your time frame?

I didn't hear back from him.

9:00 pm. Time to watch 24, but I was depressed to sit down and watch it alone. I had originally planned on watching with Hammer, but due to her flight delay, she wouldn't be back in time. I called B. He told me his girlfriend was busy, so we could talk on the phone during the commercials. As you all know, 24 is kind of a sensitive issue for me and B. And I think I'm hormonal or something right now, because I was getting so weepy. I felt so terribly lonely. Lonely, but why? Nothing in particular was wrong.

Anyway, 24 was a kick-ass episode and B and I laughed all along the way.

"Yay, B! We have to watch at least one episode this season together before it's over!" I exclaimed.

He paused.

"Um... I don't know, H. I guess we can watch one if it's recorded..."

"Recorded? What? Why?!?!"

He didn't answer. So I didn't say anything either. I felt stabbing pains of anger and sadness searing through my heart. I felt as if I opened my mouth at all I would be spiting flames of fire that would melt the phone in my hand then and there. I tried to calm my breathing and I waited for the worst to pass.

"H? Are you there?"

"Yeah. I'm here. I just think you're unbelievable, that's all."

"Why?"

"Because! Last season we watched EVERY single episode together and you slept at my place once a week. Now you're telling me that you can't take ONE hour out of ONE Monday to watch a TV show with a friend when this is something that we've done together for the past five years? Jesus!"

"Okay, H... You're right. You're right. I'm never sure where I'm supposed to be drawing the lines, that's all."

"Fine," I said with a huff. But I didn't feel fine.

We spoke for a few more minutes, but I was left feeling soured and frustrated and powerless and again lonely. I wondered if Narc would call me and if so, when. I know he hates my house when it's messy so in case he would come over, I picked myself up and started straightening up the house. I took out the garbage, made my bed (and sprayed it with lavendar), cleaned the bathroom, cleaned the kitchen, straightened the living room, and waited. I fixed my hair, reapplied my makeup, put my earrings back on and waited. Still no word. Maybe he had gone home. I didn't want to text him to find out. Should I go to Cheers? I didn't really feel like it. I was crazy-tired. But at the same time, I had just spruced up, and didn't want to put my pajamas on and take off my makeup either. So I flopped onto my bed and watched some more TV. And I waited.

At about 11:30, the phone rang. He said he was nearby and asked if I wanted to meet him out at a bar.

"St. Andrews?" he asked.

"I don't know... I'm not really in drinking-mode tonight," I said. "But you're welcome to come here."

He agreed. And so I waited for him to arrive.

Last night was a very strange night. The strangest part of all-- Narc didn't want to have sex with me. And he didn't want to have sex this morning either. I feel uncomfortable and rejected. I mean, I really don't quite know what to think or how to feel right now. Sex has always been the basis of our relationship. I haven't seen him since Wednesday night. No sex? What was going on? But I'll get to all of that...

I offered him a drink and he asked for a Jack on the rocks. The only ice I had was the kind that comes in big plastic bags. I had bought it for my party back in December. Now, it was all globbed together in the freezer and nearly impossible to break apart. I put a bag in the sink and started stabbing at it with a fork. Flecks of water were flying in my eyes and I could hardly hear him over the din. I hammered at that ice with all of my might. My arms and shoulders were sore, but I managed to make him a decent drink.

"Aren't you going to have any?" he asked.

"No. Not Jack, at least. Maybe something softer."

I surveyed my liquor shelf and pulled off a bottle of Beaujolais.

Whenever we hang out and drink at my house, Narc always sits on the barstool at my kitchen counter and I always hang out in the kitchen, leaning on the opposite side of the counter, facing him as if I'm the bartender. We stayed like that, sporadically smoking cigarettes and talking for hours, as he polished off half of my Jack and I finished the entire bottle of wine.

In the course of the conversation, Narc started to bring up his oft-repeated notion that all women in New York are willing to "settle" for men they don't love as long as the men are handsome and rich. I take offense to that idea, and don't believe it to be true.

"If that's your experience, Narc, it must be the women you're hanging out with," I said.

He acknowledged that both the Exhibitionist and PopStarChick are like that.

"I'm not surprised," I said. "And if you choose girls who are materialistic, that's your choice," I repeated. "It doesn't have to be like that. I'm not like that, nor are any of my friends."

He laughed at me. "If every girl in NY were like you, Hyde, it would be a paradise on Earth!"

I rolled my eyes at him but smiled inside. I couldn't tell if he were being serious or facetious. This launched an enormous conversation about dating in the city and what it's like to be single and the different pressures for men and women.

"You're lucky that you're so open," he said. "And that you attract so many people."

I was shocked to hear him say something like that.

"You think I'm open?!?! Really? I think I'm totally guarded and untrusting of others."

"You might hold back a piece of yourself, Hyde, but you give off really good vibes. I've been to so many bars with you and watched night after night guys hitting on you and trying to pick you up. You give off an energy that's so warm and accepting. People want to be near you-- to talk to you. Me, on the other hand, I know I give off a vibe that's cold and confrontational."

I nodded. He does.

Further into the conversation, we were talking about "chemistry" and I said something about how I always end up with guys having crushes on me-- guys who want to "save me" from myself... sweet, nice guys, but I'm always attracted to the bad boys who need "saving" themselves.

He laughed at how stereotypical I am. (Maybe he's right.)

Then, somehow, we got onto the topic of TT. I think he was saying that some girls put their "heads" ahead of their "hearts," and I said I could understand why.

"Sometimes there's a need for that," I said.

I made the analogy of me trying to get my head into this thing with TT. I don't know why I did this. Maybe it's because I was tipsy; maybe it's because I'm hormonal; maybe it's because I'm ready to face reality and move on in whatever small steps I can; but I told him that I had been dating someone else for the past few weeks.

"What?" He looked at me coldly and there was tension in the air. I know it cut him. It cut right through him. "Is it the lasagna guy?"

"Yeah, that's him..." I said, looking down.

There was a moment of silence, and then--

"Hyde, that's great!" He smiled broadly. I kept my eyes lowered. "Aren't you happy about this?" he asked.

"Um, no... Not really. More confused than anything."

I briefly recounted how I had met TT. I told him how persistently TT has been pursuing me.

"That's a great opportunity, Hyde," he said. "How often are people pursued like that? I've been in NY for six years and no one has come after me and been into me like that!"

I should have figured this would turn into a Narc-victimization thing. And how can he say such a thing to ME when he knows I love him!

I told him how difficult it had been for me on my date last Monday.

"I don't even know why I'm saying all this Narc..." I could feel the tears creeping into my eyes. They were already in my voice. And my cheeks were flushed.

"No! Say it!"

I was silent.

"Say it! Say what you have to say, H!"

"Well, I didn't sleep with him, if that's what you wanted to hear." I peered up at him, gauging his reaction.

He smirked at me and shifted uncomfortably. "Why not?" he laughed. "I mean, you can, you know..."

"I didn't want to, Narc. I couldn't. I mean, it's just hard for me to--"

"For you to what?"

"For me to sleep with someone when I'm in love with someone else." Now I was just blurting things out. I spoke faster and faster. "It felt weird to me Narc! Weird when he kissed me. I can't do it. I felt out of my body... betraying myself. I felt split up."

"I don't understand what the problem is here, Hyde," he said, looking at me blankly.

"The problem? Of course you know the problem, Narc!"

"No. I really don't. Lay it out for me."

"Narc! Of course you do. It's been the same for over a year. So, don't make me say it."

Don't make me tell you that I love you when it will humiliate me!

I couldn't look him in the eye and I felt a choke rising up to my throat.

"I just hope I don't have you in a bind," he said.

It was a strange thing that he said-- a strange tone in his voice.

I sighed.

"You don't have me in a bind. I have me in a bind."

"But, Hyde... You know that you and I are not going anywhere."

"Yes, I know." I felt weary.

"You know that we're not going to be a couple."

"Yes, Narc. You've made that abundantly clear."

"And you know that I can't... I'm all in monk-mode. Writer-mode."

Is this what Narc is like as a monk? I'd like to see him when he's NOT in monk-mode!

"Let's just forget it Narc," I said, taking a deep breath and wiping a tear from my cheek. "I don't want to talk about it. So... Fine. I hear you. We're not a couple; I should be in love with this new guy, sleep with the new guy. Fine. But I can't right now."

And then I started to cry. I hated this whole conversation. It's as if he isn't liable for anything. He just wanted to terminate any emotional responsibility he might have for the situation. It was nearly 3:00 am and I was exhausted.

"I think it's time for bed," I said.

"But, Hyde, you should talk about these things. I mean, there's no reason not to."

There are plenty of reasons not to.

Narc was upset. I could see it. He was alone, I was pursued by someone new. He was the victim. I was abandoning him. No one has ever loved him right? No one ever... I don't count.

I wished I hadn't said anything. Why the fuck did I open my big mouth?!?!

I walked around to his side of the counter and sat down on the stool next to him.

"Can I have a hug?" I asked.

"Of course."

I buried my head in his neck, burrowing it there. He held me tight and then suddenly, limply let go. Without a word, I walked away, into the bathroom to brush my teeth. My tongue was stained purple from the wine. He was smoking another cigarette and had poured himself another Jack Daniels.

"Narc, I mean it. I have to go to bed. I have to be up at 8:00 am."

"I have to be up then too," he said. "I want to write tomorrow."

I finally got him into the bedroom. He stripped down except for his underwear. I was taken aback (and still am). He has never slept with any clothing on with me before. NEVER, EVER. NEVER, EVER, EVER!!! What was the meaning of this? I followed his lead and kept my panties on too. But I was spinning in my head. I snuggled up next to him and tried to kiss him. He kissed me back, but not for long. I was really confused about what was going on. This was not normal-Narc behavior. I went to kiss him again, and this time he stopped me.

"Can't we just lay here together?" he asked, pulling me in tightly. "I just want to lay next to you right now. That's all."

"Okay," I whispered.

I felt my body stiffening. I was uneasy and kept shifting around.

"Shhh... shhh..." he tried to soothe me. "Just go to sleep."

Eventually I did.

I woke up this morning, my eyelids warmed by the streaming sun, the alarm irritating my ear. I always sleep with the blinds wide open because in the dark, I'd never get myself up! I had to be out of the house by 9:00 or 9:10 at the latest, so I figured I'd let Narc sleep until the last possible minute. I made myself up, checked my email, got dressed and crawled back into bed to wake him. But he wasn't about to budge.

"Narc, c'mon. I really need to go."

"Urgmmm..." he groaned.

I turned on the television-- first to NY1 and then to the Tyra Banks Show. She had some prostitute on talking about life as both a legal-prostitute and mother.

"Who is that? The Exhibitionist?" he mumbled.

I laughed.

"What time is it, Hyde?"

"9:07."

"Oh, I have five more minutes!"

"No, you really don't, Narc. I'm going to be late for my therapy appointment."

"Can't you just go and leave me here and when you come back we'll figure out what to do about food?"

I really didn't want to do that. I paused and thought.

"I don't know, Narc. You're just going to stay here asleep?"

"Yes."

"You'll be sleeping the whole time?"

"Yes."

"NO going on my computer, alright?"

"What? No!"

"Seriously-- you promise? NO COMPUTER."

"Hyde! I have NO interest in your computer or your blogging life."

"Yeah, well, that's what you said last time," I mumbled.

"I won't go on your computer. I'm just going to sleep."

"Well, then... okay."

I leaned over and kissed his cheek and set off for therapy.

In the elevator I bumped into 10thFloorGirl-- the same girl I had seen at Cheers last Thursday night. We started chatting.

"Which direction are you headed?" she asked.

"Up Second."

"Me too! Let's walk together."

I told her I was on my way to therapy and we talked a bit about the trouble with boys and then about singing. She's also an opera singer, although I've never heard her sing. She's working in psych-research right now, which was kind of interesting. The wind was whipping against my cheeks as we walked, causing my eyes to water. It was such a blustery day that I was sure my tears would freeze right onto my cheeks! I tried to keep my neck, nose and throat covered as per my voice teacher's instruction. (Remember-- he's going to take a gun to me if I get sick again!) Finally, 10thFloorGirl and I parted ways and I continued on to therapy.

I got back home at around 10:45 am. Narc was still in bed.

"How was therapy," he asked, his voice thick with sleep.

"Therapeutic," I laughed, taking off my clothes and climbing into bed next to him.

"Any insights? Any revelations?"

"Just that I'm crazy," I said.

And with that he pulled me in towards his chest and went back to sleep.

I managed to grab the remote from his other side and flick on the TV while he snored in my ear. I watched some Dr. Phil and then some of the back episodes of Flavor of Love- those that I hadn't seen yet. I could see our reflection int he mirror-- Narc's arm wrapped around me. I liked to see it there. I grabbed on to his hand and clutched at his fingers. He slept into the afternoon.

When he woke up, I was wondering if he would want to have sex, but he didn't. I didn't press the issue. Obviously I had made him uncomfortable with what I had said about TT. Was he thinking about me kissing someone else? Does he not want me anymore?

I went into the other room to get him some takeout menu's. He decided that he wanted Indian food, but when the food came, he didn't really like it. I offered to heat him up some of my chicken and potatoes from the night before. I was so nervous watching him eat my food.

"Domestic Hyde?" he asked.

"Yeah, you haven't really met her," I smiled.

The whole afternoon felt uneasy though. We didn't have that much to say to each other. And watching any more television was deadening. Narc got up and started tinkling on the piano. I moved over there and watched him. He doesn't know how to play anything. So after a few of his failed attempts at recalling childhood pieces, I sat down to play. He went into the bathroom. When he came out, he was putting his shoes on.

"Are you taking off?" I asked. I was honestly caught by surprise.

"Yeah, I think I better go if I'm going to get any writing in." he said casually.

I felt a dull ache in my heart. I don't know why.

"Okay. But what about my present? When can I get that?"

"Whenever you want!" he exclaimed. (As if getting hold of him is never a problem!)

"Maybe tomorrow night after my choir?" I suggested. "Because Thursday night is a work-night and the weekend gets tricky, you know? I'm not sure of my weekend plans..."

"Yeah, tomorrow might be okay. Why don't you give me a call? I'm going to be home all day and night working."

"Okay."

He walked towards the door.

"So, I guess I'll see you soon!" I said.

He didn't turn around to give me a hug or anything. He was just gone.

I lingered in the doorway for a second and then shut it closed.

And that brings me to now. As I sat here writing this post, he just sent me two emails linking to random funny things on the internet. So he's home... and thinking of me somehow, I guess...

I don't know. I don't have the energy to spend any more time on this right now.

I only know that I still feel lonely.

And very, very UNEASY.

A Whole Civilization, Gone with the Wind

Last night I watched all four hours of Gone with the Wind. I absolutely love that movie in spite of its somewhat antiquated conventions. It was epic, and completely transformed my doldrums into a cozy evening at home.

("No, I don't think I will kiss you, although you need kissing, badly. That's what's wrong with you. You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how!")

As I watched last night, I had to wonder-- what makes Scarlett think she's in love with Ashley for all those years?

What about Ashley Wilkes?

I.... I never really loved Ashley.

You certainly gave a good imitation of it, up until this morning.

That is what I'm thinking about today. And I adore Scarlett.

N called me last night at around 11:00. I didn't pick up, so he left a message:

Hey it's me. It's about 11:00 on Sunday. And actually, you're probably in bed and getting to sleep right now if you have to get up at 6:00 in the morning if memory serves. But... Just calling to report that your gift is now officially wrapped. In fact, it's the most perfect wrapping job that there ever was in the history of the world. They have this new wrapping paper that I bought-- the ultimate shiny gold wrapping paper. Well, on the back it's a big grid. It's actually easy to cut. You just cut along the straight lines. I've always been a horrible wrapper, but this stuff... I don't know. I really get along with this wrapping paper. Yes... anyway... I'm going to get up fairly early myself tomorrow. Not at 6:00, but maybe around 8:00 or so and put a long writing block in. If you want to pop by at any point and get your long overdue present, you are more than welcome to. So just give me a holler when you can. Alright. Bye.

I called him back then and there and we spoke for about 20 minutes before I went to bed. I have nothing new to say about all that. Nothing that we don't all already know. No... nothing new to say at all. ("Nothing will ever happen to me again.")

(Scarlett: I only know that I love you. Rhett: That's your misfortune.)

Girls Gone Wild?

Every time I see Anxious, I feel like she's trying to compete with me for "who's more wild." Let me say it plainly-- Anxious is not wild. Anxious is nowhere near wild. I'm not all that wild either, but compared to Anxious? 'Nuff said.

The part of it that bothers me the most is that I don't value being "wild." It's a stupid competition, I don't want to engage in it, and yet whenever I'm with her, I find myself sucked in. For example, I was telling her that in my next guy, I think I'm better off finding someone who's not a "drinker."

"It shouldn't be that hard," I said. "After all, none of my good friends are 'drinkers.'"

"What do you mean?" she asked. "I drink! And since I've been with BulgarianGuy I've been drinking a lot more!"

She said it as if she were trying to show off. How inane!

"Anxious, you might drink, but you're not a drinker," I said.

"I don't know about that..." she said.

"Okay... How many nights a week do you drink?"

"Five or six!" she cheerfully exclaimed.

I rolled my eyes.

"How many nights do you drink more than a glass of wine with dinner?"

"Oh... um, well I guess one or two."

She looked disappointed.

"How much do you drink in a typical evening out?"

"That depends on how long I'm out."

"Four hours."

"I don't know... five drinks?"

I could see she was uncomfortable. She wanted to pick a high number, but she also knew that I would know she was lying as I've known her for ten years.

"I don't consider that heavy drinking," I said. End of story.

UGHHH!!! Why is she engaging in a "drinking contest" with an alcoholic? (Okay, there... I said it.) It's stupid of her though. She thinks she sounds all Sex in the City, but she doesn't. Why does she insist on trying to compare herself to me and my "lifestyle?" I fucking hate it. I feel like she tries to control my "self-construction" or the person that I project. It's infuriating.

Other things she said in the course of the day:

• That her roommate thinks she has a "wild lifestyle."
• That BulgarianGuy wears extra large condoms and she left the package lying about her room for her roommate to see. (Does she forget that I fucked him? I've seen him and I didn't think he was extra large. Is she lying about the condoms? Not that it MATTERS though! See how she gets me engaged in this stupid bullshit!)
• That she's going to ask him for diamonds for their first year of dating anniversary-- she thinks she wants a ring.
• That my relationship problems would be solved if I could just "find myself a Bulgarian"
• That she is amazingly happy (I doubt it-- she complained throughout the day that her mom is hassling her that BulgarianGuy is "just a waiter" and that her hipster friend said the same thing. She is pretty status-conscious, so I know it was really bothering her.).
• She started calling BulgarianGuy "Pioneer" and only referred to him that way to me (supposedly because he was in the Soviet Young Pioneers) and she called another friend "Natalie Wood." Apparently now, she refers to all her friends in code.
• That she's glad that pink lipstick is "in" this Spring so that she can keep wearing her pinks. ("Can't you wear whatever lipstick you want, no matter what's "in?" I asked. Ughh!!)
• She mentioned last year's masturbation episode SIX times. When will she stop throwing that in my face?

It's strange. At the same time as she competes with me (which indicates jealousy), she also finds ways of putting me down-- I'm the problemed friend, the girl with "issues." Not like her. She's got it all worked out. Fuck that. I'm sick of her making her feel better about herself by making me out to be the messed up one. Sometimes I wonder why I still hang out with her. Perhaps it's because we've been friends for so long.

Anyway, there's more on that I want to write, but I'm not entirely in the mood.

The opera was GORGEOUS yesterday. Olga Borodina sang Dalila and did a magnificent job. We went into Cafe Mozart after dinner and bumped into Contessa and her boyfriend there. Cafe Mozart was a regular hangout in my college years for a post-opera stop, or champagne and cake for a friend's birthday. I haven't been there in years, but back then I had been there with both Anxious and Contessa many times. As we approached the entrance, Anxious remarked that it was "old-school" of us to return. So it was quite a strange coincidence to see Contessa there too! (She's living in Princeton these days). Anxious and Contessa haven't spoken since Anxious' birthday back in October. Apparently, Contessa had many of the same issues with Anxious as I have, only she decided to do something about it and cut Anxious off. It was an awkward little reunion. Contessa was on her way to see the evening opera-- Gounod's Romeo et Juliet.

Meanwhile, in the Narc department, here's what's been going down:

At 2:20 pm, mid-opera, I got a text from him: Your present FINALLY arrived!

So, the birthday present materializes at last?!?! I NEVER expected it!

My reply: Yipee! Just got out of the opera but will call you later. I'm excited. :)

I wanted to see him. I missed him, and of course, I wanted my present! So I wrote to him at 9:45: What are you up to later tonight?

He answered: Friend is having a party on LES, but may just stay in. Not sure. You?

Hyde: Still out w/Anxious post-opera dinner. We're probably going for a drink or two, but after that no plans. Want to hang?

Narc: Call me later.

Hyde: Will do.

Well, I did. I called him at around 12:30. No reply. I tried both of his phones. So I texted him again: You still up and about? Out?

No answer.

Damn it!!! I SO wanted to see him last night! I wanted it so badly.

Whatever...

I went out drinking last night, but got myself home by 2:00 am. I called him on both phones again. He had turned off the ringer on his landline so I guess he was home and went to bed. I sent him another text: Good Night. :)

So I haven't been doing all that well on my alcohol-hiatus, but I guess I can just try and try again. I woke up this morning feeling depressed because I wanted to be with him. What happened to all of that strength and energy I felt last week? What happened to the sobriety and my empowering distancing from Narc?

I also had weird dreams last night-- a few nightmares inspired by a hardcore video I saw. (That's when you know porn has gone too far-- when it haunts your dreams!) I also had a dream that I was teaching a class about John Ruskin. I was writing something on the board. It took a really long time to write the whole thing out. My hands were dry from the chalk and I was really tired. Beyond tired! On the verge of collapse. When I stepped back from the board I saw that all I wrote was chicken-scratch and it really freaked me out. I felt like I was losing my mind. It probably has to do with school/career anxiety. Ruskin et al were a part of a major paper I wrote my first year in the program.

Anyway, it's 3:00 pm and I haven't eaten yet today because I've been loathe to get out of bed and I've got no food in my house. I think I'm going to have to venture outside to get me some lunch!

When the world seems grim, and if all else fails, at least I have a new episode of Flava of Love recorded that I can watch later...

-h-

Because I feel like it...

I never do these things, but I'm home from teaching trying to relax and I just felt like filling this out. I swiped it from Mark Reed's blog. (Hence the British spellings!)

What is your occupation? Grad student/Adjunct professor/future historian/aspiring musician/drama queen

What colour is your underwear? Right now? Black.

What are you listening to right now? Strangely enough, Jekyll & Hyde. I already owned the Broadway recording, but just bought the original concept album because someone told me that Linda Eder sings a song on there that I should look into doing for the cabaret.

What was the last thing you ate? An apple

Do you wish on stars? Always. But as soon as I do, I wish I hadn't.

If you were a crayon, what colour would you be? Midnight Blue (the name was changed from Prussian blue in the '50s. I can' t figure out why, but I like both names).

How is the weather right now? Gray and cold and windy.

Last person you spoke to on the phone? B.

How old are you today? 27.

Favourite drink? Jack Daniels.

Favourite sport to watch: I don't like watching sports. But I don't mind going to watch baseball at the stadium. Baseball players have the best asses.

Have you ever dyed your hair? Yes. Since I was sixteen-- always some shade of red or black.

Favourite perfume/aftershave? I change a lot and combine my own perfumes, but right now, it's Opium mixed with Vanilla.

Pets? The fabulous Mr. R.

Favourite month? November

Favourite food? Not sure.

What was the last movie you watched? In the theaters--Munich. On TV-- I caught the tail end of Contact at Narc's house the other night.

Favourite day of the year? "Day of Friendship" with B. It's always in the week leading up to Christmas.

What do you do to vent anger? Turn it inwards and become self-destructive.

Fall or Spring? Fall. 100%.

Hugs or kisses? Both.

Cherry or Blueberry? Cherry.

Do you want your friends to e-mail you back? Always

Who is most likely to respond? NDN.

Who is least likely to respond? Narc.

Living arrangements? Me, Mr. R, a lot of Christmas lights and a wacky neighbor.

When was the last time you cried? Today when I walked from school to the bus stop. (I got really into the music I was listening to and had a 'moment.')

What is on the floor of your closet? Shoes I never wear and a basket that Rochester likes to sleep in.

Who is the friend you have had the longest? BigSis. From beginning to end!

What did you do last night? Watched a lot of TV and washed my hair. Then I caved and went to Cheers and got drunk until 2:30 am. (I bumped into a neighbor from the 10th floor there). Somehow I managed to catch four hours of sleep before getting up to teach this morning.

Favourite smell? Burning wood in winter air. Oh-- and those carts that sell sugar-coated nuts all over the city.

What inspires you? Love. And music.

What are you afraid of? Abandonment.

Plain, cheese or spicy hamburger? Depends on my mood. (Not sure what a spicy hamburger is though!)

Favourite car? Jaguar convertibles.

Dog breed? Don't know.

Number of keys on your key ring? Three on my house keys and two for my office.

Number of years at your current job? I'm in my fifth semester. (I guess that means just about two years).

Favourite day of the week? Saturday. (Although when I didn't have to teach on Fridays, it was Friday).

How many states have you lived in? 2

How many cities / towns have you lived in/name them. Five. But I don't want to name them.

Later...
-h-

Are my feet on the ground?

I haven't been in the mood to blog much this week, and I'm still really not. I don't know why... It's been an eventful week though.

Monday night:
Monday night was my date with TT. Now that I'm getting some distance from the whole thing, it's clearing up in my head and I'm able to say that it actually was a nice date. I just freak myself out emotionally when it comes to trust and intimacy... and of course when it comes to Narc. I'm still not sure how I'm going to sort through or deal with these challenging and confused feelings...

Tuesday:
On Tuesday morning, immediately after teaching, I went to "wake up Narc." We spent the morning and early afternoon together. I still felt in control that day... Clear minded from the week off alcohol and energized from eating well and exercising. Also, the week or so I had spent apart from Narc started to give me some perspective. It was an amazing, thrilling quasi-indifference. I felt strong and on top of everything.

But we fucked, and that got to me a little. And then on Tuesday night I went out drinking for the first time in a week. Shit.

Wednesday:
The alcohol definitely had its impact on me. I was more depressed on Wednesday than I had been for the entire week before. I'm starting to wonder, knowing that I have blood sugar problems, if the way that alcohol fucks with my blood sugar has a major part to play in my depression. (My insulin med says not to take with alcohol b/c it strains the kidneys so I haven't been taking it for months and months. I'm trying to get back on it though).

Anyway, it was a long day and on three hours of sleep it was a mental challenge to make it through. But after my nap, I started to feel better. I went to choir and was on the bus home (at around 11:00 pm) when Narc called me. He invited me over to his place to watch Wednesday night's American Idol. I agreed to go.

(I swear-- he can sense when I'm moving out of his orbit. I was just starting to feel strong when I got three calls and three texts from him on Monday night, an invitation from him on Tuesday morning and another invitation on Wednesday night!)

Before heading down there I stopped into Cheers to say hi to IrishBird and had one glass of wine. Then I came home, grabbed a change of underwear, a bottle of wine and some cigarettes for Narc (as per his request-- I'm laying off smokes these days) and jumped in a cab downtown.

Maybe it's because I had just seen him the day before, or maybe it's because I drank again on Tuesday night... who knows, but I definitely didn't feel as empowered as I did on Tuesday morning. Instead, I started to feel major pangs of being in love with him as strongly as ever and I had to kick myself for it. It got even worse after the sex (whereas Tuesday morning's sex didn't have that effect on me). I just looked at him and loved him. Damn it! I still feel it now! It's that awful pining feeling in my chest. That "I love him, I love him, I love him, no matter what!" feeling. Shit! Shit! Shit!

That night all I dreamed about was him. I had a very strange dream--strange only in that I've never had this dream before. (You might have imagined that I would have, but I haven't.) Anyway, in my dream, he told me that he's "tired of pretending that he doesn't care" and that he "loves me" and thinks we should "be together." He said that he kept waiting for me to disappoint him, but that I didn't. In the dream I was elated. I'm not saying I want that in real life or anything, but in sleep, it was such a sweet dream. There are a lot more details, but I don't feel like giving them.

Anyway, at one point in my dream, I said "I love you" to him, but I think I also actually said it out loud in my sleep. I woke up just then and I was really confused about what was dream and what was reality for a minute because I was laying next to him. Right then, he shifted around a bit and I think he may have only been half asleep. He might have heard me, but I can't be sure. Whatever... I guess it doesn't matter all that much as I've told him that before.

Today:
I didn't stay there long this morning because I had to leave for a voice lesson (which went very well!). After that, I went to the Colony to buy some sheet music to try out some new songs for my cabaret class. I spent the rest of the afternoon singing before briefly meeting B for dinner.

Tonight I stayed home relaxing, watching past episodes of The Flavor of Love on VH1, which I find strangely addictive.

TT texted me tonight asking if we could get together again next week. I told him "sure," but that it's tricky for me to find a time on week-nights. I'm confused on so many levels with all of that. It's so fucking confusing for me that it's hard for me to write about at all...

Anyway, that's it for now. I'm back on drinking hiatus (despite the two-three glasses of wine I had at Narc's house last night) and I really should be on Narc-hiatus too, given that all it takes is two days in a row with him and I once again feel powerless and in love.

Tomorrow is my killer teaching day and then Saturday I'm going to the opera-- to see Samson et Dalila. I offered Anxious my extra ticket. I haven't hung out with her in quite some time.

So, here I am... continuing to be too confused to enthusiastically blog, but perhaps this moment of transition will soon pass. Part of me feels real change, and part of me feels the sweet powerful sucking force of the familiar beckoning me back. I don't know...

Today is the one year anniversary of my brother's accident. Don't feel like talking about it, but it's weighing on me.

I hope you all are doing well!

-h-

Bits and Pieces

Hmmm... Some bits and pieces for the afternoon...

• I cut off my long nails today and painted the short ones in a sheer pale pink. I feel fresher, but I couldn't peel the sticker off my apple very easily.
• I just woke up from a nap that was not nearly long enough.
• Narc and I were talking about the Exhibitionist on Tuesday (don't ask me why!) and he described her blog to me: "Unlike my blog or your blog," he said, "hers totally lacks a sense of reality. The life she presents there is a fantasy life!" Oh really, Narc? That's interesting...
• I bumped into PianoBoy at the takeout Chinese place this afternoon. I don't know if I ever wrote about him here... When I was doing my Master's I sang in an undergraduate choir. He was a Freshman and had a big crush on me. I invited him to my birthday party that year and he made me laugh when he asked "Wow! Who hooked you up?" referring to the fact that I had alcohol at the party. I pointed out that I was above the legal drinking age. Anyway, when I saw him today he was very excited to tell me that he's a Senior now and is interning at Merrill Lynch. He gave me a hug and asked me if my "digits were the same" and when I left he said "Great, babe! I'll give you a call soon!" Looks like someone feels mighty important with his "big shot" internship!
• I texted IrishBird this morning telling her I was sorry for being a pain in the ass with all my stories last night. Like I said-- I spilled my heart to two random Italian guys at the bar, and IrishBird got to hear all of the gory details. "Never. You are a wee darlin'! xo." she wrote back. I thought it was a cute text.
• I have to leave now to go to choir practice. I'm all sleep-smeared and I have over an hour commute. (Ugh! And it's rush hour. "DAMN IT!!!" as Jack Bauer would say when his last lead to the terrorists is murdered or commits suicide before his eyes.)
• Even though I just ate an apple, I'm still hungry. But I don't have time for dinner. Maybe I can find something in my house to take on the run.

That's all for now, I suppose...

That's all.

-h-

The Good and the Bad

The bad news:
I drank again last night, ending my dry streak. I drank a lot for absolutely no reason at all. (Well, not A LOT really... only about 8-9 drinks. I got home with complete coherence and memory intact. I did embarrass myself, though, by spilling my guts to two Italian guys in the bar). I also "drlogged," to use Dan's term for "drunk blogging." Thank goodness I got less sleep than all of you, hitting the sheets at nearly 3:00 am and getting up this morning at 6:30, so I was able to erase the post early this morning-- before embarrassing myself in front of you!

Some more bad news:
As you know, my date with TT was difficult for me and I haven't yet processed it all out. I can't write about it yet. Maybe I never will. I'll wait until the mood strikes.

Some "mixed" news (depending on your point of view):
Narc called me a million times on Monday night and I went to see him yesterday morning, spending half the day with him. Thank god for comfort zones. (Not really, but yes really...) Okay... so I'm still in love with him. But I was shocked-- his hold on me has weakened A LOT. It felt totally different being with him this time. A taste of freedom, perhaps?

Oh, and I actually might like TT. He is certainly REALLY into me and he seems like a gentle guy... part of what is freaking me out.

Some good news:
I'm determined to get back on the horse today and go on a drinking-hiatus again. As strange as it was for me to abstain this week, I felt some of my perpetual brain-fog starting to lift.

Oh, and I had my cabaret class again last night which kicked ass.

So... that's all I can muster this morning on a headache. My brain right now is an uncomfortable fusion of leftover whiskey and emotional confusion. It's not a good combination before 8:00 am. I hope I survive teaching this morning. Even more so, I hope that when I get home I can take a nap. I'm never good at sleeping once I've already gotten up for the day. But God knows, I need the sleep!

Sorry not to be more informative about the TT-date...

Have a good day, everyone!

-h-

PS: VJ writes to me that she just got engaged. Yay! I'm happy for her. Congratulations, VJ!

Out of Body, Out of Mind

I am so much more messed up than I thought.

It's funny what gets revealed when you remove alcohol from the equation. Well, actually... it's not very funny at all.

My date tonight was surreal. I have shooting pains in my stomach right now that have me doubled over. I have to go lay down. I think they're psychosomatic. Oh... and tonight's the night Narc chose to contact me again. During my date I got one call and three texts from him. And I came home to another message on my home phone. Nice.

I don't know how to deal with this TT thing. I'll have to explain tomorrow when I'm not in such excrutiating pain. Part of me wants to just make it all go away. I feel like the entire evening tonight was an out of body experience.

And I feel like I'm out of my mind.

Maybe I'm not ready for this...

-h-

I've Forgotten How to Blog.

There are many things I want to say... many strange things that I am feeling. But I think I forgot how to blog. That's strange in itself, isn't it? Perhaps it will pass...

I had a nice weekend. It included a three hour choir rehearsal and an overnight visit to my parents house. My choir rehearsal was an alto sectional and we really got down to the dirty work. We are in the process of learning (and polishing) a modern piece-- crunchy chromatic music, coloring poems by Dickinson, Yeats and ee cummings. (It's by a female composer and we're singing its premier!) The experience... the music... the lines... it was simultaneously warming and unsettling.

Colored... and coloring...

I colored in a coloring book this weekend. After that, I drew with markers on construction paper. Why? I sketched with my stepbrother. My mother bought a brand new box of Crayola crayons. When I was a little kid and I used to list my favorite things, a new box of crayons always neared the top of the list. I loved having sharpened points on every color of my choosing. I used to know the 64 colors (and their order in the box) by heart. They have a lot of new ones now, and many of the colors were listed in English, Spanish and French. Maybe I'm getting old. Well... at least I'm getting older.

In any case, I'm a pretty good artist and as for my stepbrother-- he used to have a skill for drawing. I wanted to see if it was still there. I thought drawing was something "different" I could do with him. He watches too much television these days. Anyway, it was amazing-- he still had remarkable eye to brain to hand to page coordination. Of course, he could not create a very accurate picture, but that part of his brain clearly still functions, and I saw it working. It's really important for him to tap into as much as is left of his brain. And so, I think it's something we can return to-- something on which I can work with him. He was tired after one drawing. We both drew a ceramic chicken my mom has in the kitchen. I was happy to do it with him. As sure as he is here, he is a living miracle.

Tonight I have a date with TT. It's the lasagna dinner that was originally slated for last Thursday, but I was sick. He was very gracious about my cancellation and texted me twice to check up on me, offering to bring over some chicken soup. It's a strange feeling for me to have him treat me that way after all of this time with Narc. So, I'm looking forward to the date (in a way), but it's also very tempered by anxiety and sadness. I'm sad about Narc. I'm sad, but-- what's this? I'm also filled with something new... a strange indifference. (Is "indifferent" a word I EVER thought I'd use when it comes to Narc?)

I haven't heard from Narc (not a text since Thursday, nor a voice communication since I saw him in person a week ago Saturday). I haven't called or texted him either. Something is changing within me. Death is in the air. No... scrap that. Maybe it's new beginnings that I'm feeling. I'm unusually anxious. I couldn't sleep last night. I haven't had a drink since Tuesday. It's Monday now. Does that make a difference? Did I ever love Narc? Do I still?

I don't know, you guys. I just know that I really don't feel like myself right now, and I don't know what else to say about it. Blogging is hard today. Perhaps I need to wait for the psychic dust to settle.

There is a post brewing in me about my mom, though. I may be able to handle that when I have a moment.

Oh... and there's a major battle about to ensue in my family over guardianship of my stepbrother. It's the calm before the storm right now, but it's coming. And it sucks that it has to come to this. More on that later, I suppose...

I hope you all enjoyed your weekend. And to my American readers-- I hope you guys have the day off today too! :)

-h-

The Long Awaited Chicken

I decided to cook a chicken. I've been waiting nearly two hours already and I'm hungry. Major change is in the air. Before long, you might not even recognize me.

-h-

Frozen

Sometimes I feel like my life is frozen... Like I've been sitting here in front of the computer for an eternity, watching my cat asleep curled up into various adorable positions, but always the same and always asleep.

I have so much to do, but no energy these days. I suppose I shouldn't be too hard on myself, as I'm sick today, but still...

I wanted to write a post about some of the strange things that have happened this week-- namely another cab driver asking me out (what is it with them? And when I had pink eye, no less!), and a phone call I got from Candy asking me if I'm "okay." She said that I looked kind of "down" when she saw me at Cheers on Friday night. (Well, I had just woken up and was in my sweats, downing a few drinks before going to see Narc).

Speaking of Narc, I feel everything between us dying lately. And it is stifling... oppressive, but ultimately, I guess it's good.

He wrote me a text last night complaining that he couldn't sleep. I had already shut off my cell phone and the ringer on my land line. (I didn't want a repeat of last week). I answered him this afternoon and we exchanged a few words about American Idol, but that was it. And there's nothing there anymore.

There's nothing there.

In fact, I feel like there's nothing beyond these apartment walls.

Illusions.

I can hear the sounds of the city, and it appears to be real sunlight that's streaming in... but somehow I can't believe that any of it is true.

And I just want to stay home.

-h-

The permanently adorable Mr. Rochester

I might as well explain...

I might as well explain last night's post in the ten minutes that I have because, to tell you the truth, I have an awful cold, a long day ahead of me, I'm quite cranky and I don't know if I'll be in the mood to post again.

1.) The chocolate was from a man with a handlebar moustache. He looked like Kaiser Wilhelm II. I don't know why he gave me a chocolate. He just did. I was alone on Valentine's day, so hell-- I'll take it!

2.) The flower was from a guy who comes into Cheers all the time. He's actually homeless. He brought in a flower for IrishBird. I've talked to him a few times, so we started chatting again. Then he said he would be right back and he went across the street. When he returned he had a rose for me. It was unbelievably sweet. I was really moved by it.

3.) The exhilarating experience was the first night of my cabaret class. I absolutely LOVED IT!!! It was a total ego boost and I think it's going to really help with my performance skills. But I can explain more on that later.

As for Valentine's Day itself, at noon I sent out three text messages...

One to Narc
One to TT
One to Stallion

I played a little game in my head. From whom would I get a reply?

At 3:41 pm, TT wrote back: Sorry-- been away from the cell all day. I hope you have a great Valentine's day too!

At 4:59 pm, Narc wrote back: Happy V-day!

And as for the Stallion, I haven't heard. I guess he spent the day doting on his girlfriend (as he should!)

In other news, TT and I set up a date for Thursday night. He wants to cook me his "famous" five-cheese lasagna. I accepted the date, but was nervous accepting an invitation to his house. I'm totally not ready for any real physical intimacy given the fucked up emotional Narc-mess I have in my head. But I'm also not very good at asserting myself and saying "no" to those things.

All of that aside, I'm thinking I may have to cancel anyway because I really am sick. This cold is awful and I haven't been able to wear eye makeup in three days! Not even a curl of the eyelash! To some of you that may not sound tragic, but I definitely don't feel like myself.

Okay...

That's it for now.
Time to go teach about Ancient Greece...

-h-

A Close

And so Valentine's Day draws to a close (w/Tequila Sunrise on my breath).
I ended up with a chocolate and a rose and an exhilarating experience.
Details will be disclosed tomorrow...

-h-

The Former Annals

I posted at the Former Annals. Go check it out...

annalsofmrhyde.blogspot.com

(in case you forgot... ha ha!)

-h-

Happy Valentine's Day

"Hyde, it's Jack. I'm a little tied up right now, but I wanted to take a moment to wish you a Happy Valentine's Day!"

Honestly, Honesty.

First of all, if there's anything I want to be in the entire world, it's the aesthetic of this song.

That said...

Honesty... Honestly... I feel like a dishonest person. I don't think there's a single person in the entire world with whom I completely let down my guard. I have a hard time lying to people in obvious ways. I'm very honest like that... But I'm not honest when it comes to presenting myself. I'm constantly pulling on and pulling off a whole slew of masks and it's absolutely exhausting. This blog is just a forum for yet another mask. I'm never "dishonest" here, but at the same time, I am, here, like everywhere else, entirely and rather consciously constructed. And I'm tired.

I think that Narc is a "dishonest" person too, in the same way that I am. Perhaps he's worse. (Anyone who has seen him in person or read his blog has had a taste of his constructs.) We used to work well together because the personas we put on with each other knew how to have fun. It was about sex and alcohol and adventure and power, all the while flirting with the notion of real intimacy-- the most frightening and risk-taking proposition of all for either of us. But those masks have become somewhat defunct at this point. The "honeymoon" period is over. We know each other too well to be playing those games, but there's no where else to go. We are never going to be truly close. How can we be? We don't trust each other, and there's not much respect there either. (My therapist has always said that the two essential ingredients to any friendship or romance are trust and respect. Reading Mystic's blog today has reminded me of that as well). And so, it's almost like we've hit a wall and don't know how to behave around each other anymore.

I told you all that about my Narc-torture-night on Wednesday night and about how I went to go see Brokeback Mountain with ThursdayGirl and Masseuse on Thursday. Well, that night, I once again, got into bed early. (I thought I was depressed all weekend, but in truth, I think a lot of it has to do with being physically run down. I've been sneezing and my throat hurts a little and now I have this conjunctivitis...) That night, as I was falling asleep, all I could think about was Thursday afternoon's talk with Narc. We had finally said the words out loud. He had finally acknowledged how this is screwing with my head. What would happen next? Would I ever hear from him again?

All of my friends laugh when I ask things like that. ("He's not going anywhere, Hyde, and neither are you!" they say). I don't know why I never believe them. I don't know why I was surprised when my phone rang again just after midnight that night. I don't know why he called. I don't know why I picked up.

He was drunk. He asked me how Brokeback was. We spoke about it for a few minutes. He had loved the film and was glad that I liked it too. He kept asking me to come down and see him.

"I can't Narc. Tomorrow is my killer teaching day and I have to get up early. Where were you tonight, anyway?"

He told me he was at an 8 at 8 event. (It's basically a singles thing to meet other singles. Nice). He started to tell me some strange story about leaving the event with two girls and going to some restaurant where they got locked in and the cops came, or something. It didn't make much sense. Like I said-- he was drunk (although not AS drunk as the night before).

"So are you coming here to see me, or not, Hyde?" he asked again.

"I told you that I can't!" I said.

"But I want you to come here and fuck me."

"While I would normally love to go there and fuck you, I have to go to work early tomorrow," I repeated.

"But, are you coming?"

"Narc! I don't want to start all this again tonight, okay? I don't want a repeat of last night."

"Oh that's right!" There was a sarcastic edge in his voice. "I'm just an asshole, right? I'm the evil one. I'm so awful. I'm so mean... so terrible! Right, Hyde?"

I didn't want to argue with him, but I certainly wasn't going to assuage his feelings on this one either.

"Let's just not do this now," I said.

I tried to change the subject.

"What are you doing right now?" he asked.

"Well, trying to sleep. But I was watching porn," I said. (It's true... I was.)

He started laughing at that one.

"Those movies are shit, Hyde!" he exclaimed. "Shit!!! Why are you watching that shit? You should be watching some real movies! Some better movies! C'mon! Aren't you going to watch the Oscars?"

"Yeah, I guess... When are they on?" I asked.

"What?!?! You don't know when they're on!?!? You're shiting me!"

"No... when? Early March?"

"Hyde, you love them! You're a chick. All chicks love the Oscars!"

"Um... well, not really. I mean, I like to watch them, but I'm not obsessed. What is it, March 5th, or something?"

"Yeah, that's right. March 5th. See? You knew!"

I thought of the Jon Stewart Academy Awards posters plastering the bus-stops around the city.

"So are you coming to my Oscars party?" he asked.

"What? You're inviting me to your party?"

"Sure."

You guys have to understand-- in a year and a half, I've never once been invited to anything with any of his friends. I've only met James and CouchSleeper, his two best friends, by running into them incidentally, not by invitation.

"You're really inviting me?"

"Yes!"

"Can I bring a friend?"

"That depends... Who?"

"I don't know... Hammer?"

"Hammer? Of course, Hammer! Of course you can bring Hammer!"

"Um, okay..."

I wasn't sure what to make of all this.

"Anyway, Narc, I should probably go to bed now. I have to get up in a few hours..."

On Friday morning, I saw that he had left me a message the night before on my cell phone. (I posted it here). So, I sent him a text at 6:40 am. In retrospect, I wish I hadn't. I wrote:

Morning! Remember inviting me (& Hammer) to your Oscar party last night? If not, just texting to remind you... Have a good day. I'm off to teaching torture til 3:30...

Teaching wasn't as bad this week as it was last week. We covered the French Revolution and got about halfway through the stuff on Napoleon. I'm telling you-- it's a marathon! By the afternoon I was feeling like shit and needed a nap. I took the bus home and read the whole way home. Back at my place, I basically crashed for a few hours.

Now, I don't know why, but at around 6:00 pm, I called him. I was shocked when he answered the phone. We talked for a few minutes. Both of us were sober and the conversation was stiff.

I told him I wanted to take a bubble bath. He told me he was watching A Few Good Men on TV. I laughed because he knows that movie by heart already. I asked if he wanted to hang out. (Trust me-- it felt like a MOST unnatural thing to do. Not a good indication of a healthy relationship). He told me he had to go to "meet market" event that night (another thing for singles). I didn't say anything about it, except for him to have fun. He said he'd give me a call later that night. Then I went to take my bubble bath.

Meanwhile, Double-T and I had been playing text-tag trying to make plans. The last message I had sent him, I said I would call, but I never did. He sent me another text asking me about my audition and I wrote back telling him I was accepted into the class. He returned my text:

Do you know how to use a phone? I thought you only texted... Call me when the hectic is manageable and we'll figure it out. Would love to see you, though.

So, it appeared he was getting frustrated with me. (I don't blame him. I WAS being a flake about returning his calls). I decided to call him just before my bath. He didn't pick up, so I left him a message.

I realized, this weekend, that downtime (DT) is decidedly underrated. My bubble bath was heavenly. I filled the bathroom with candles and made the water scorching and listened to Jo Stafford singing Sunday Kind of Love. I stayed in there as long as I could. I turned into a prune and was dizzy from the steam. Then I got up, showered off, and put my pajamas on. I was so exhausted from the teaching and from being run down (and from being moderately depressed) that I was in bed by 10:00, drifting off by 10:30.

I fell asleep and awoke to my phone ringing. It was Narc. I think it was around 11:00 pm. He said that he was on his way home. He was sober.

"If you're asleep, Hyde, go back to sleep," he said. "I was going to invite you over, but I don't want to wake you up."

"Um, no... I can get up... I can come over," I told him. (Why? I don't know! I don't understand myself sometimes).

I threw my things together as quickly as I could. I had slept through the Opening Ceremony of the Olympics, but caught Pavorotti singing Nessun dorma at the end. His cape made me laugh. Then I headed off to Cheers. I was way too anxious to see Narc unaided. (How sad is that?)

BarMan was singing and IrishBird and PumpedUp's cousin (who I still need a name for!) were tending bar.

I kissed IrishBird hello.

"I'll have two double jack and diet's. In pint glasses, please!"

"Both for you, Hyde?" she raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah, why?"

She rolled her eyes at me.

I didn't care. I wasn't in the mood for it. I was in my sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt, disguised by my long black winter coat. Candy was there (the girl who got half naked in my bedroom back in October) and so was Cali, a girl I met at Cheers in late January. The two of them were drunk and were badly dancing with each other and it made me want to laugh. I drank as fast as I could. The combination was too sweet and I found it to be mildly nauseating, even though it's what I always drink. It was the perfect amount though. I finished what was equivalent to four drinks in fifteen minutes and it put me in just the right place. I was set to meet Narc.

He had called me and put in a request for Ben & Jerry's. I heard him on my voice mail.

"Bring some Half Baked, please!" Hmm... a change from the usual chocolate on chocolates!

I picked up the ice cream for him and some gum for me. (Sorry, NDN!) I didn't want him to know I had stopped for drinks first. Then I caught a cab and headed out.

(Incidentally, those are the only drinks I've had the ENTIRE WEEK-- Monday to Monday! Not bad, right?)

When I got there, I was happy to see him. The buzz sliced through any tension, at least for me. He was standoff-ish and seemed to not know what to do with himself or what to say to me. He sat on the couch stiffly. I didn't care, though, so I had no qualms about getting physical with him. Before you know it, we were fucking, and things seemed (to me) to be back to "normal." Of course, there is no such thing as normal, and even if there were, Narc and I certainly haven't found our way "back there," so after that, there was strangeness in the air again. We were watching Scarface on TV. I finally said I had to go to bed. It was nearly 3:00 am and I was fading fast.

Narc wasn't nearly as tired as I was, but he didn't want me to go to bed without him. So he followed me into the bedroom, and read for a while in bed. I have to say, it was really strange to me... Reading in bed with someone is a comfortable thing. But it just highlighted how fucked up and undefined our relationship is. It's clearly not just a sex thing. But it's not a "couple" thing either. It's not a friendship; but we're certainly not strangers. ARGHHH!!!!

The next morning I had to get up relatively early to meet my mom at the opera. We had tickets to see La Traviata. Narc and I screwed around some more in the morning and then he got up with me. I told him the plot of Traviata and how in a previous relationship I insisted we try to time our climax to one of my favorite moments in all of music-- in Act II when Violetta sings "Amami, Alfredo, quant'io t'amo! Addio!" He looked at me strangely. Who cares. (What he doesn't know is I once tried to do the same thing with him-- in April when we were fucking in my living room and Walkure was on the radio. Notung!)

He read from the RabbitBlog to me-- a question about some girl who had snooped on her boyfriend. Then he told me that his friend had gone snooping in his apartment back in September.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, after Katrina, I told --------- that she could come up with her boyfriend and use my apartment because I was in Europe and she had no where to stay."

(He was talking about his ex-girlfriend from when he lived in New Orleans).

"But she told my friend S. about it and he came here and used her name and crashed at my place."

(His friend S. lives about half an hour north of the city).

"So, he just used your apartment without your permission?"

"Yeah, but that's not the part that bothered me. He also went snooping through my stuff and took a sex tape that I had made with ----------."

"What?!?!"

"Yeah, he gave it back to her, but he told me that he watched it and made a copy first."

"Why the hell would your friend watch your sex tape? I mean, that's just weird! How can this guy be your friend?"

"I don't know," he said. "I guess friends are never as trustworthy as you think they are."

I didn't know what to make of this conversation and he sort of dismissed discussing it any further.

Later, he gave me two books to read-- the first, Shogun by James Clavell.

"What are you reading now," I asked.

"Well, I'm still waiting for some books to arrive," he said. "Including your birthday present. What I got you is out of print and hard to get a hold of, so it's taking forever, but I think you're going to love it."

"My birthday present? I thought you forgot about that..."

"No, it's coming."

I didn't know what to say to that.

When it was time for me to leave, he was standing in the living room.

"So... well... I'm going now," I said.

"Yeah, alright."

"Well, I guess I'll see you soon," I walked over to him.

I reached up to hug him. He seemed surprised at the gesture. He accepted my embrace, but it was stiff and awkward and I felt like a stranger who had crossed an electric fence he had suddenly posted around him.

"Yeah, I'll talk to you in a bit," he said.

"Okay. Bye."

(God! More tension! More tension!)

I walked myself to the door.

"Okay... um... well... See ya!"

And that was that.

I met my mom an hour an a half before the opera for brunch at Peter's. She said she had a few things she wanted to talk to me about, which turned out to be mostly money matters. She also asked me how I thought my therapy was going. I hate when my mom pokes into my personal life in any way, shape or form, and so I'm sure I got really defensive. It's just that I can't stand my compartments violated.

I ended up having a great afternoon with my mom though. We talked a lot about life in general. I always forget that my mom had another life and another self before I ever got to know her. She got married really young-- at 19. She married the "right" boy and was succumbing to all sorts of social pressures and pressures from her family. But then she decided that she couldn't do it. She wanted to be true to herself and she had to just scrap it all.

"When did you know it?" I asked her.

"It was building for a while," she said. "But I knew it when Robert Kennedy was assassinated. It devastated me. June 8th, 1968... I wanted to go to his memorial at St. Patrick's, but my husband didn't want to come and didn't understand why I wanted to go. He just didn't get it. It was the last straw."

"So what happened?" I asked.

"I was wearing a yellow dress that day," she said. "A stiff linen shirt-waist dress with large buttons. It was from an earlier era-- a Jackie-O dress. I never dressed like that again. So I left him, and I moved to Manhattan."

(My mom lived on East 23rd for a while and then on West 9th).

"But I was young and single in the city for a long time," she said. "I know it's hard to be alone like that. It always is. I used to go out sometimes on Saturday nights and wait for the early edition of the Times at the corner newsstand. I didn't go for the nightlife as much as you do. Not nearly as much. And I always had the sense that everyone else was out. The city does that to you."

"So what did your husband do when you left him?" I asked.

"He tried to kill himself," she said.

"What?"

"Yeah... And my father happened to call and took him to the hospital. He overdosed on sleeping pills or something. But he was okay."

"So, what happened?"

"Everyone was mad at me. I became the bad guy. No one talked to me for a while... including my parents. But the world was changing. And it was my moment to change with it. If I hadn't you never would have been born!" she said. "I would never have been born!"

My mom is an interesting woman. She is so strong and so smart and so loving. I really do admire her so much. I love her desperately, but half the time I feel like I don't even know her at all. Maybe it's because I won't let her know me. (Honesty).

On the way home, we started talking about my step-brother and she started to cry in the car. It scared the hell out of me. I grew up in a chaotic and violent household. My mom was my pillar of strength. No matter what was going on, my mom being okay always reassured us that things were fine; I knew that as long as she was fine, I would be fine. To see my mom cry always shakes me, as if something must be really wrong... as if the world must be on the verge of annihilation. She said that she misses my brother.

"He's still there, of course, but I miss the boy that he was," she said. "I miss that smart-alec kid who took the car out drunk. I want to see that boy again! I want to yell at that boy! The one that's here is him, but it's not. I'm watching his brain re-learn and reactivate and it's a different personality that's developing. It's a different brain. A different balance. He's using different parts of it. And because he didn't die, we never got to mourn that other boy."

I didn't know what to say.

"Of course, I can't talk to your stepfather about it," she sighed. "It's too hard."

"What's going to happen to him, mom?"

"I don't know. Who cares if he can't read. I'll be happy if he can walk and talk and shit on his own. If we can get there, he can have a life. He can have a life..."

We sat parked in the car in front of my building. I felt shaken when I got out of the car.

Shaken.

And I still do...

Anyway, that's it for now. I'm sick of typing and I have other things to do... It's slushy outside tonight. There's only one word to describe the weather-- DRIPPY! I'm going over to the Wizard's tonight to watch 24. Hope it's a good one! I still have more to tell about TT, but I'll get to that next time.

Good night!

h

PS: In keeping with my post Shining, here is a link to Brokeback to the Future (also circulating the internet with much discussion these days). Enjoy!

A Pink Eye

I have pink eye. Yuck! Last night I thought that I got one of Mr. Rochester's hairs in my eye. It was itching like crazy and turned red. I kept rubbing it before finally putting a cold compress on it and falling asleep.

Well, this morning when I woke up, I found the situation to be a little worse. It looks like I got punched in my right eye (minus any bruising that would obviously be there from a punch!). But the eye is incredibly swollen on the upper lid with a huge bag under the lower lid and it's half shut and absolutely pink. I'm waiting for the doctor to call me back so I can hopefully get some eyedrops.

Anyway, I didn't have to teach this morning. Hooray! It was cancelled for observation of Lincoln's Birthday. I have a lot more to write about from this weekend, but I'm not in the mood to do it now. It was pretty much a drama-free weekend. Nice! I got to have a nice, long chat with Liu, I saw La Traviata with my mom, I saw Munich with B, I went to bed early nearly every night (save my rendezvous with Narc) and I spent a lot of time alone and wanted it that way. I've been feeling a bit like a hermit lately, with no reservations. Does that happen to you? Where sometimes you can't stand being alone and then all of a sudden, all you want to do it be alone? And I worshipped the snow yesterday, although now it looks all drippy and slushy. (Dan-- in the city snowstorms are almost all fun, except for having to walk through it and the brown sludge everything turns to a day or two later!)

Well, that's it for now. My puffy, fluid-filled eye and I are about to hop into the shower.

:)

h

The Snow!

It's snowing!

It is, in fact, a blizzard. Already a foot has fallen and they're expecting it to keep on coming down pretty heavily until noon.

It is absolutely gorgeous. I tried to take some pictures of it all, but I had to turn off the flash, so they all came out strangely gray, instead of beautifully white.

Rochester and I are in the mood for the same thing this afternoon--curling up on the couch and staring out the window.








I fell asleep on my living room couch last night in front of the television. I liked it.

When I woke up this morning, the window ledges were coated.

I have alway loved the snow.

Everything becomes a dream when it snows.





This last picture is totally random, but I thought I'd throw it in to add more color to this post.

It's a card put up on my refrigerator.

As you know, I've always said I was a mermaid in my past life. Well, when my hair was red, B used to always tell me that I was a mischievous orange kitten and call me "Pula," which means "red" in tagalog.

One day we came across this post card-- half pula and half mermaid-princess. I think it's priceless. It's my archetypal selves.







Well, that's it for now!

I'm going back to hypnotically stare at the beauty in the sky...

-h-

Shining

This has been floating around the internet for quite some time, but I watched it over at Narc's this morning and it made me laugh... really laugh. So, I thought it was worth linking to. I present to you a trailer for The Shining, a romantic comedy. You can find it here.

The Compliment

I'm glad my little talk with him was so effective. The results it yielded:

Last night at 12:37 am my phone rang. Guess who it was? Drunk (although not quite as drunk) Narc. He left me a message.

Hey, Hyde. It's Narc. I am leaving you a message. And um... complimenting you. (laughs). I'm going home. Um... And, I just uh, I just wanted to talk to you. Alright... I guess you're out, so I will try you some other time. Alright. Bye.

Gee, thanks for the compliment?

Today is my killer day, so no more time for my blog addiction right now.

...more to come...

-h-

The Full Story

Okay... so it's more Narc drama. If this is getting tedious for you, skip this post. But I want it here for myself. I might as well fill in the blanks and deliver the rest of the story. Oh, and it's a long one. The most momentous part comes at the end, I think-- the conversation we had this afternoon in which I "told it like it is."

And sorry for the barrage of posts today. I just need to get this out because I don't want to be thinking about this anymore, although I can think of nearly nothing else. (Although Brokeback Mountain was a worthwhile distraction. I thought it was beautiful and surprise, surprise-- I cried.)

Yesterday I had choir practice at night. I was exhausted from the long day, but it managed to get through to me even so. We are singing an arrangement of Barber's Adagio for Strings for 8-part choir. It was absolutely gorgeous! (I have always loved that piece. B used to play it in his dorm room and we would sit there with the halogen light dimmed, talking for hours about philosophy, relationships, life and literature).

And last night I was doing so well. I walked past Cheers on my way home from the bus on my way home from choir at 11:15 pm. I didn't go in. I was determined to make it a cozy night... to treat myself better (in a truer sense than I usually mean). I've been trying so hard this week to turn some of my thinking around.

I got into bed early and snuggled under the covers. There were no pillowcases on my pillows because I had just brought the laundry up and hadn't bothered to put any new ones on... too tired.

He called at 12:14 am. Part of our conversation was caught by the answering machine. It's creepy to hear it. You have to imagine him incoherently slurring and me trying to sound chipper through my sleepiness.

N: Hello! Your---
H: My machine went off.
N: Your machine is obviously getting... getting your thing!
H: Yeah... So, what's up?

(SUPER long pause)

N: What's up?.... Hyde!
H: Yeah?
N: Hello?
H: What are you up to?
N: Hyde?
H: Yeah, I'm here. Can you hear me?
N: Are you alive?
H: (laughing) I'm alive! Are you alive?
N: I don't know... I don't know. (laughs)
H: Narc, you sound pretty drunk. Are you really drunk?
N: Hyde, I'm wasted, but I don' t know. I, I, I, I don't know. I, I, I... Where should I go? I don't know!
H: (a little concerned) Narc, where are you?
N: I want to come and snuggle with, uh... with you.
H: You want to come and snuggle with me?
N: Yes. BUT ONLY if that's "proper."
H: If it's proper?
N: I, I, I... I don't want to fuck it up if it's not proper...

(And then the machine cuts off).

I don't know why I agreed to him coming here. It was like I was operating on automatic pilot. I just said "okay." He asked for my address three times even though he knows where I live. He said he was in a cab, and I could hear him telling the cab driver the address, so I figured he was okay. We hung up the phone and I estimated that I had half an hour.

I got up and took out that garbage that was waiting by the door. I put fresh pillowcases on the bed and sprayed the sheets with lavender (his favorite). I straightened up the living room, erased the "history" and "cached files" on my computer, brushed my teeth and shaved my legs. Then I started to get anxious. What if he couldn't find the apartment? He was that out of it. I decided to wait for him in the lobby. I trudged downstairs in my sweats and curled up in one of the big velvet chairs down there. (NDN likes to call it his "office.") I couldn't sit still though. All that was running through my head was: What are you DOING, Hyde???

I got up and exited into the crisp cold. I paced up and down in front of the building, all the way to the corner. I eyed the smokers outside Cheers. My eyes were stinging from a lack of sleep. Every cab that neared, I craned my neck to see if he were there. Eventually, I started to worry. I called his cell phone once, twice... no answer. 12:59. I texted him: Where are you? A moment later, I got a call back. What the?!?! He was calling me from his home phone.

Do I have the strength to relay our conversation? I'll try. Basically, I asked him what had happened and told him I had been waiting in the lobby. I was clearly upset. He called me a liar and told me I wasn't in the lobby. He demanded I come down to his neighborhood to see him. I refused. He asked if he should come and see me.

"At this point? Don't fucking bother!" I said.

I was upset and needed sleep. Besides, he was incoherently drunk and I was sober. How much fun could that possibly be? He was way beyond good-sex drunk. He kept insisting that I come to him. I kept refusing.

"Why did you say you were on your way here and then not come, Narc?" I demanded.

"Oh, god, Hyde! Isn't it obvious?"

"Not obvious to me! Why don't you go on ahead and spell it out for me."

He sighed in disgust and started calling me a wanker. (Ah, yes! The return of Wanker-Narc!)

"You know why! You know why!" he kept saying.

"Do you wish I were there?" he asked.

"Well, I did," I said. "I mean, I did invite you..."

Then he started saying "Where are you, Hyde? I'm here. Where are you?"

"In my living room," I said.

"I'm here. Where are you?" he repeated.

I gave him my address.

"Yeah, but I'm here. Where are you?"

Oh, I get it. That means I'm supposed to be there with him. I was too tired for this.

He repeated this for quite some time. The repetition was brutal. I kept refusing to go see him.

"I was in bed asleep!" I said. "I don't have cash for a cab! It's late!"

Finally he roared at me. Among a slew of insults, he told me that I suck and he hung up on me.

Let the anxiety begin.

I couldn't let go of it. My stomach was in knots. I couldn't have him mad at me like that... hating me like that. I had to make him understand that I was being reasonable. I called him back. He didn't pick up the phone, but I know he can hear the answering machine, so I started to talk. I didn't know why I called or what to say. I just started talking.

"Narc, it's me. I wanted to say that I hope you remember this in the morning. And I hope that you know that--"

He picked up the phone. He started to tell me that I "suck" again and to insist that I go see him. To tell you the truth, I was relieved he picked up. I'd rather the insults than the silence and that's my problem. At least it's "connection" on some level, right?

He started to insult me again. I tried to explain.

"I have to be here in the morning," I said. "I have some things to do around the house, and then I have an appointment..."

More insults.

"Narc, enough! Don't you have anything nice to say to me anymore? Isn't there a kind word for me anywhere in you? Do you think this is appealing to me? Enticing? For you to call me up and start calling me a wanker and telling me that I suck?"

"I NEVER called you a wanker, Hyde!"

"Narc! You're fucking crazy! You've been calling me that for the past hour! So do you have anything nice to say, or don't you? I mean, c'mon! Please say something nice to me! Please!"

He paused. He was thinking.

"Hyde, I'm in love with you," he began. "I'm in love with you, and I want you... I want you to come feel me."

Oh, god!

"You're not in love with me, Narc," I said calmly. "But it was nice of you to say... Thanks."

Again, a long pause. No response. And then...

"Hyde, you're a wanker. You're wanking me around. I said something nice, and you're not coming."

"Narc, I AM NOT A WANKER!"

This conversation was asinine! Did I just raise my voice with him? Yes, I think I did!

He was a little stunned.

"So, are you angry with me, Hyde?"

I felt humbled and spoke softly now.

"Well, yeah... a little."

"Should I come there? Is that what you want?"

"Well, it's what I wanted..."

"Should I come there now?"

"I don't know, Narc..."

"Okay. I'm coming. I'm coming there. I'm on my way."

He hung up the phone on me, as if he were hurrying out of the house at that very moment. It was 1:32 am.

I was shaking. I wasn't sure if he was coming or not. I mean, I thought he was, but... I couldn't steady my hands. I paced back and forth around the apartment, not sure of what to do with myself. I sat down at the computer to blog and drafted a post. I felt like I was losing my mind. I knew I shouldn't have let him twist things around. How does it go from him waking me up, totally drunk, asking to come over and insulting me to me begging for him to come to my house and feeling like I have to apologize? I knew I shouldn't welcome him into my house in that state. It would only be a fight, and potentially a bad one. It's one thing if we're both drunk, but I didn't want to face him like that in sobriety. My head hurt.

What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I doing? I wrote.
Why did I agree to this? Why is he coming here?
What is wrong with me???????

Half an hour passed. I wondered where he was. I felt like tearing my hair out. So I called him on his cell. He picked up the phone.

"Where are you?" I asked.

"In my living room," he said.

I wanted to scream. I didn't.

We fought again for quite a while. Just imagine the above conversation repeated with slight variations. I asked him where he had been that he got so drunk. He was angry at the question.

"Nowhere! Nowhere!" he said.

"Well, you must have been somewhere."

"Nowhere!"

"So, you got drunk at home?"

He changed the subject.

"What happened to your seven days of writing, Narc?" I asked. "What happened to the seven days with which to change your life? Onward to total victory!"

"I took my seven days! I did it!"

"Um, no. Day 1 would have been Monday. It's Wednesday."

Well, he was furious at that. I won't even tell you what he said.

I couldn't deal with it anymore. I had to end this.

"I'm going to sleep, Narc," I said. "I have to say good night now." (It was about 2:20 am).

"So, you're not coming here?"

"No."

"Fuck you, Hyde! You fucking shit!"

He hung up on me.

I sent him a text: This makes me very sad. Good night, though.

I lay in bed for ten minutes, fifteen minutes. I started to panic. It was a clean panic. My heart was pounding. I had to do something.

I called his cell phone. No answer.

I called his home phone. No answer.

I called his cell again.

I called his home again.

Cell, home, cell, home.

I sent him a text: If you're still up, please give me a call back.

Nothing.

I called his home. I left him a message:

Narc, please pick up. Please... Please pick up the phone. Look... If you really want me to come there, I will... You just have to lend me cab fare. But I'll come if you want me to. Just please pick up.... (I waited). Okay... I guess you're not talking to me. So forget it.

I went back to laying in my bed in a panic, only now it was even worse than before. I stared at the ceiling and it seemed to be sinking. The heater was clanging so loudly I could feel it vibrating in my skull. I pulled a pillow over my head, but that only added to the constriction in my chest, and suddenly I couldn't breathe. I felt a panic attack coming on. I hadn't had one in years, but my face was starting to tingle... my cheeks, and my hands, and that feeling of falling into over/under oxygenation. I reached out and blindly fumbled for the switch to turn the heater off. I rolled over onto my back and then back onto my stomach. The room was spinning. I can't have him mad at me. I can't tolerate it.

Cheers! I thought.

No, stupid... It's after 2:00 on a Wednesday. Cheers is closed.

I've got wine in the house... and Jack, but no mixers.

Don't be dumb. It'll make things worse. You'll call him and leave sobbing, drunk messages that he'll get self-righteous about and you'll be in no position to argue.

But I can't stand this!

Stand it!

I got back up out of bed and paced around again. Then I sat down and wrote him that letter. I don't know what time I fell asleep, but I think it was sometime just after 5:00 am.

Bottom line: Last night was torture.

This morning I woke up with the ringing of the phone. It was Hammer. I was glad she woke me or I might have slept the day away. Besides, it's always a relief to be woken from a nightmarish sleep.

I straightened up my house, wrote a post and sent Narc that "WHAT THE FUCK?" email. Then I sat down to play piano. Masseuse (FightingMensch's most recent girl) was supposed to come over at 1:00 to give me a workout session. She's a personal trainer and is just getting her certification, so she is looking to get some experience. She showed up on time, but I was vocalizing and on the piano and never heard her at the door. I called her at 1:10 to see where she was, but she was gone. I felt terrible. She said she had left me several messages on my cell.

I had been in the living room, and when I went in the bedroom to check my cell, I saw I had a message from Narc. What?!?!

Hey Hyde, it's Narc. It's about 12:45 and as requested, I'm calling you back. I'm awake and alive and alert and all that stuff. So, give me a ring when you like. Alright. Bye

As requested??? How considerate! He must have realized he was in some trouble if he bothered to call back.

NDN had called me and asked me out to lunch to cheer me up. (He treated me, by the way, which was very sweet!) I was on my way over to meet him when I called Narc back.

This was a biggie for me... and I'm scared now about how it will change things, but here it goes:

He answered the phone casually.

"Hey, what's up?" he said.

"Not much." I felt tired and fraudulent.

"I'm just hanging out here watching last night's Idol and eating sushi," he laughed.

"I hope it's good, Narc."

"Yeah. Well, yeah..."

I didn't say anything.

"So.... I got your 'what the fuck' email," he volunteered.

"Oh, you did, did you?"

"Yeah."

"So... well... What the fuck?"

"Hmmm... Well.... I hate to do this, Hyde... I really do... But you know what? I have to plead 'blackout' on this one."

"Narc! You have to be fucking KIDDING me!"

"Yeah... it was a blackout. I mean, it rarely happens for me, but it did. I don't even remember talking to you last night. So... I don't know what to tell you."

"Well I didn't black it out," I said. "And it was bad. You were pretty mean to me."

He didn't say anything, so I went on.

"You were very mean to me, Narc. I mean, besides saying you were coming here and then not showing... You insulted me a lot."

My lips were shaking just to say the words to him. I don't know why it's so hard for me, but it is.

He didn't apologize.

"I don't know what to say, Hyde." He sounded like a robot. "I don't know what you want to hear from me right now."

"I guess I just wish you didn't hate me so much," I said quietly.

He paused for a long time. I held my breath.

"That's just when the demons come out," he said. "It's one of those things... The demons hate a lot of people, Hyde. They hate me too."

"Well, I wish they didn't have to be so terribly mean."

"Yeah, but why'd you pick up the phone, then?"

He was trying to change the tone of the conversation and deflect it away from himself.

"I mean, you shouldn't pick up the phone when I'm like that!"

Oh, so this is all MY fault?

"How was I supposed to know you were in 'demon-mode,' Narc? It was 12:15 on a Wednesday!"


I was in the elevator now. There was so much to say and I had no strength or time or clarity with which to say it. I told him so.

"I need to talk to you, Narc," I said. "But I can't think right now. I can't think of how to say it. There's so much... and I'm muddled, and I--"

"Well, okay, then. Maybe I should get back to Idol."

I couldn't let it go at that.

"No, wait!"

I was in my building lobby now and ducked into the area with the mailboxes.

"I guess, I just want to say this. I don't know why you spend time with me, Narc. I mean... you shouldn't spend time with me if you don't even like me."

There was silence on his end.

"If you don't value me, if you don't like me, then I don't understand--"

"We're having sex, Hyde," he interrupted. "We're having sex and doing all of these 'couple-y' things, but we're NOT a couple. We're not about those things."

I didn't say anything.

"I mean, we are about having sex, I guess, but..."

"But 'what?'" I interrupted. "So, you're having sex with me. But why? Because I have free time and so do you? Because I'm an available warm body? I mean, is there anything about me that means anything to you, or am I just a space filler? Easily replaced by the next thing to come along?"

"I don't know what you want from me, right now," he said. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"I want you to answer my question: DO-I-MEAN-ANYTHING-TO-YOU,-OR-AM-I-WORTHLESS-AND-DISCARDABLE?"

"Hyde, you know I care about your friendship. You know I value you."

"Well, then you could try showing it every once in a while with a kind word or gesture. I mean, I'm talking minimal here, but there hasn't even been that! If you value me at all on any level, then let's see it."

"But, we're not a couple, Hyde."

I know how he thinks. I know the game he's been playing. He's been playing it from the beginning. Do you guys remember when he used to refuse to go to brunch with me, or to a movie with me, or even to a bar? What was his reason? "If we become friends AND are having sex, doesn't that make you my girlfriend?" Well, guess what? We DO those things now AND we're having sex, and it's fucking with his head. His way of dealing-- make it CLEAR I'm not his girlfriend by neglecting and insulting me. I told him I "get it."

"I understand, Narc," I said. "I understand what's going on. We're having sex, but you want to make sure I know we're not a couple... that I'm not you're girlfriend. So you're sending me that message by showing me how little I mean to you, by making me feel worthless, by insulting me. See-- how can I be your girlfriend when I'm so unimportant and undeserving?"

He didn't say anything, so I went on.

"Well, guess what, Narc? That HURTS. It HURTS."

"Hyde..." He sighed. "Maybe we shouldn't be having sex, then, Hyde."

"Maybe we shouldn't."

I could hear in his voice, though, that he didn't want to go there. He didn't want to let go of that. He needs me too, or he wouldn't still be around. He hates me because he's tangled up in this and feels as powerless as I do. We are addicts. It's destroying.

"If you see a relationship as two halves-- friendship and sex-- and I can only have one of the two, I'd rather have emotional kindness and no sex than have sex coupled with emotional cruelty," I said. "I'd rather be your friend than have you put me down and then fuck me."

He didn't say anything. I thought I was going to cry. I could feel my lip trembling and my voice about to break.

"It feels like shit, Narc. It feels like shit."

More silence from him.

"You are treating me poorly on purpose. It HURTS!"

More silence. The tears were welling.

"I mean, put yourself in my shoes for two seconds. I've been having sex with someone for a year and a half--someone who says he's my friend but takes every opportunity to put me down, devalue me and make it clear that I don't matter. IT HURTS!!!!"

He spoke quietly now.

"I can imagine," he said.

I can imagine! I can imagine! He can imagine! He knows what he's doing. He doesn't want to think about it, but he KNOWS! That is the FIRST TIME EVER that Narc has validated my feelings and not made me feel like an irrational hysteric. Thank you!

I didn't answer him.

"So... What do we do?" he asked.

"I don't know." Now that it was out, I suddenly felt very weary. "I guess we can be honest with each other, for a start. I mean, admit that we both know what's going on and be able to talk about things for real. It can't stay like this."

"I don't know..." he sighed. "Maybe we should stop having sex." He sounded defeated too.

"Maybe..."

"Well, um... I better get back to my Idol and sushi now," he said.

Narc-shutdown. End of conversation.

"Okay."

"But, I'll talk to you in a bit, Hyde. I'll talk to you in a little while."

"Yeah... I'm sure," I said. I suddenly felt cynical and (could it be?) angry. "Take care."

And that was that.

After that, I had lunch with NDN and met ThursdayGirl and Masseuse at the movies. It's the first time I had ever seen either of them in daylight.

And now I'm home. And it's Thursday night. And I feel like I want to crawl out of my own skin. But I'm trying not to go drinking tonight. I keep having this image of my brain being pickled...shrunk. Why am I still writing here? Because once I stop writing, I'll have to figure out what to do with myself. I guess I can take care of food for a start. Yes... It's nearly 9:00 pm. Food is a good idea.

Good night to all, and to all a good night.

-h-